#but i also get it . they had to make him get it together quickly so they could move on with the story

[avionvadion]

This Trey discourse is getting ridiculous.

Tell me you don’t understand the dream without telling you don’t understand the dream. Tell me you don’t like Trey or understand his character without telling me you don’t like Trey or understand his character. For starters, the reason most of the fandom disliked Trey early on- book one. He didn’t stand up to Riddle’s mother or stop Riddle from being a tyrant.

Argument one: he was a child. A ten year old child whose parents were being screamed at for five hours straight (something of which BOTH Idia and Leona are horrified by, and those two had some strict upbringings themselves) while listening to eight year old Riddle wailing and sobbing for his mother to stop. That shit is traumatizing. Have you ever been screamed at unjustly as a kid? It’s terrifying. It haunts you. That kind of memory latches on and never lets go. Not without help.

Argument two: Trey is 18. He is a big brother. Not a parent. He didn’t raise his little siblings either, as his parents have a seemingly good relationship with each other and their children. He hasn’t seen Riddle in years, and while excited to see Riddle at the entrance ceremony he was quickly rebuffed by the now cold and steely Riddle who grew up under his abusive mother’s rule. He and Cater then worked with Riddle to dethrone their horrible then-dorm leader, and Trey was then sacrificed to the position of vice dorm leader because the entire dorm took a vote. Still, he did his best as vice dorm leader- not wanting to lose his head or watch their dorm mates stumble accidentally onto the execution block.

Trey, at the start, wasn’t particularly close to Riddle because Riddle wouldn’t let him be, and as someone who was traumatized by what happened when he WAS A CHILD likely struggled to speak up against Riddle’s harsher rules, and that most likely muddled together with Trey’s wish for Riddle to be happy. Going against Riddle would lead to conflict, and Riddle is short tempered as is. Trey likely believed that standing up to Riddle would make things worse instead of better.

He learns quickly from Adeuce later in book one how wrong he was, but that’s beside the point. The best Trey could do in the position HE DID NOT WANT was to give advice to his dorm mates and attempt to be Riddle’s voice of reason, acting as the peacemaker and struggling to keep any situation from escalating.

Something of note here, that I find particularly fascinating, is that it’s been stated by several characters that Riddle’s reign, though tyrannical, was nowhere near as bad as the last dorm leader- who was chaos incarnate. That plays a part in why Trey and Cater both were so willing to go along with Riddle’s iron ruling, even though both knew he was going about being dorm leader the wrong way.

There was no controlling or manipulating of Riddle- despite what Leona and Idia, who have ZERO CONNECTION AND INTERACTION with Trey and Cater prior to this dream, believed. There was no stopping Riddle, either. The best they could do was appease him and keep him calm.

Now, onto his dream.

We learn that Trey and his family “laugh” about what happened with Mrs. Rosebitch. This isn’t an, “oh they weren’t affected by what happened” situation, it’s an, “oh they were so badly affected by what happened that they can’t even talk about it properly because it’s so fucked up that they just laugh instead”. That’s called a trauma response. That trauma is so deeply rooted in Trey because he’s never learned to process it, that it’s there in his dream instead of being omitted.

Trey is also dreaming of a world in which Riddle has no stressful responsibilities. They’re at school, but his mother can’t reach him there, and Chen’ya- a childhood friend of Trey’s who was THERE when the Clover family got screamed at by Mrs. Rosebitch- is dorm leader instead. Riddle is not held down by what happened, and is seemingly “freed” from his mother’s cruel hand. Heartslabyul has become a safe space.

One built by Trey and Chen’ya, something they had unknowingly tried to do as children for Riddle (as they were unaware of the abuse, but had been a shining light for sweet baby Riddle who lived in the suffocating darkness) but failed- and paid severely for it.

Now, onto Fandom problem number two: the Round Bois.

I’m seeing people call Trey a “feeder” and are behaving harshly towards him because of it. But that literally couldn’t be farther from what’s happening. For example, let us take a look at his conversation with Vil (I brought my freaking receipts; this boy is my FAV of Heartslabyul) during Vil’s lab coat vignette.

We know Trey likes to bake.

He bakes for the Heartslabyul parties, and often gives Adeuce pastries to bring to Ramshackle to share with Yuu. But we learn in his New Years vignette that he bakes as a form of stress relief, too, to work his thoughts out and/or distract himself. It is a comfort to him. A safe space. And he knows whatever makes he will likely bring a smile to someone’s face. He enjoys baking, and he enjoys seeing people enjoy his sweets.

If someone is stressed, he encourages them to eat sweets- or cake with lots fruits, though that’s specific in this vignette because he just made a strawberry cake and was trying to find someone to give it to because it was one cake too many, lol, and Vil happened to be stressed out from something Rook said.

Trey isn’t being a “feeder” here or in his dream. He saw someone stressed and went, “Hey, I have a solution, why not try it? One slice won’t hurt and it’ll make you feel better/put you in a better mood.”

Baking is Trey’s solution, and a reliable source of comfort. He likes seeing how happy people are from the things he bakes, and he knows eating sweets can make other people happy. That’s why he goes out of his way to find someone to give the extra cake he accidentally made to- because it’ll put that person in a good mood and the cake will have a “good home” to go to.

Trey’s dream was basically giving Riddle and their other dorm mates a life where they could be happy and enjoy themselves without fear. A safe space. He could bake to his heart’s content in this massive kitchen his dream Heartslabyul provided, and everyone around him are happy and overall stress-free.

The reason they’re all ROUND BOIS???

It’s not because Trey was a “feeder” and fed them to that point, it’s because the dream-versions of his friends lacked self control and there was no one to stop them from eating sweet after sweet after sweet. They just happily ate whatever it was Trey baked, because he baked a lot- not to “feed” them, but because baking is something he greatly enjoys doing.

[hyunjuenthusiast]

ITS ME AGAIN😎

need a jealous!hyun-ju x fem!reader who gets a bit too close with gi-hun, ANDD reader ends up getting edged and fingered roughly by jealous!hyun-ju as reader tried to quiet down in the bathroom??

TYSM I LVOE YOUR FICS🫶

HEYYYY👋🏻 Are you becoming a regular?!😂 Let me see what I can do!

BEAUTIFUL ENVY

Summary: During the games, you become close with Hyun-ju, not realizing the envy that builds inside of her when you start also getting close to Gi-Hun.

Pairing: Jealous!Hyun-ju x Femreader!

Warnings: SMUT and jealousy.

Not an adult? Don't read! 🔞

Hyun-ju grits her teeth as she hears you laugh along with Gi-Hun's group. Just because they decided to work together didn't mean that you could just leave her.

That thought made Hyun-ju tense. You weren't together. She had no right to be feeling this way. But the sight of you smiling at someone else after you had been so kind to her, made her want to strangle Gi-Hun.

Looking back over at you, her blood boils. Gi-Hun was offering you his gimbap. He'll no.

She was walking towards you before she could even think. You looked up at her as she stood in front of you and Gi-Hun, the rest of the group talking about random things, not really paying attention to Hyun-ju.

"Hyun-" You go to question, only to be silenced when she holds out her gimbap as well. The look she was giving Gi-Hun made you tense where you sat.

With both of them offering you their food, you didn't know what to do. "Um, thank you both, but I'm not that hungry!" You say, letting out a nervous chuckle that only Gi-Hun returns.

You give Hyun-ju a soft smile, trying to ease whatever tension this was. You can see her relax a little.

She sits on the other side of you. Young-il asked Gi-Hun about what he thought the next game would be, and you listened closely, leaning in closer.

You heard her scoff before you felt her hand on your forearm. She pulled you a bit closer to her, leaning down close to your ear. "He doesn't know anything about the next game. He was wrong about the second game. We shouldn't trust him." She whispers.

You frown. You did trust Gi-Hun. He helped everyone in red light, green light. He's voted to go home, which is more than Hyun-ju has done. She voted to stay once after all.

"He's not untrustworthy-" you try to say until you notice her soft glare, making you shrink a bit into yourself. "You can't be sure of someone's intentions, sweet girl, especially in here." She explains softly. You knew she was right. But that means you also couldn't trust her.

She seems to know what you were thinking, and you see her eyes soften. "You know I'd never betray you, don't you? Not after what happened to Young-Mi." She whispers, making you look down in guilt.

"I know." You whisper back softly, your breath hitching as she reaches to hold your hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not any of the players, not any of the guards, not even yourself." She says. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not really knowing what she means by not letting you hurt yourself, but she doesn't clarify.

You made a mistake. That's all. You wouldn't leave her. Not for him. He's old enough to be your father. But the way you clung to him during lights out...

She clenches her fists. As soon as the guards shut it down and announced it was time for bed, she grabbed your wrist, making you get out of your bed. Not enough to hurt, but enough were you knew she was serious. You question her with your gaze, but she looks straight ahead, her pace much faster than yours.

She knocks on the door, and a triangle guard opens the little window to see what she wants. "She got her period. Would you please let us through so I can help her clean her pants?" She asks making your eyes widen. You weren't on your period.

When the window shuts, she quickly takes off her jacket, tying it around your waist. Knocking again, this time, the guard lets you through.

She was smart. The guard checked your backside when you walked past him.

As soon as the woman's restroom door shut, Hyun-ju rushed and pushed you against a wall, her touch firm, making you gasp.

"W-What are you doing?" You ask, the look in her eyes changing from firm...to hunger.

"You let him hold you." She whispers close to your ear. "W-what? Wh-" She inturupts, "Gi-Hun. Player 456. You let that asshole touch you." She sneers. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. "I-I don't underst-" you try to say.

"You will." Hyun-ju says, her eyes dark. One of her hands travels down your body, stopping just under the line of your bra. "What color is it, baby?" She asks in a whisper.

You give her a confused look. "What color is your bra?" She says, one of her fingers tracing where your nipple is.

Your eyes widen, but you feel the need to answer her. "P-Purple" you whisper, hearing her inhale sharply.

"Has he seen it? Gi-Hun?" She asks, starting to lift your shirt up gently. "N-No of course not, w-why would-" She shuts you up with a kiss. Her lips are softer than what you would have thought, and moist.

"I see the way he looks at you, baby." She says as she breaks the kiss. "And you give him those sweet puppy eyes, don't you?" She asks, lifting your shirt over your head, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of your breasts.

"I don't." You whisper. "You do, baby. Don't lie. But that's okay, I'll fix it." She says, leaning down and kissing the edge of your cleavage. "Mmm, so soft." She mumbles against the supple flesh of your right breast.

"What do you mean? Fix what?" You ask, a little breathless already. You can feel her smirk. "I'll make sure you only look at me." She says, keeping her eyes on yours as she rips your bra.

You gasp, making her chuckle darkly. She throws the now useless peice of cloth on the bathroom floor, returning her hands to your chest, squeezing.

Hyun-ju leans back down, waisting no time with taking your nipple into her mouth. The cold bathroom, in contrast to her hot mouth, makes you shiver.

You gasp as she switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. "H-Hyun-ju we can't" you whimper, making her chuckle. She's already kissing her way down your stomach, getting on her knees in front of you.

Faster than you can think, she has your pants pulled down, looking at your matching purple underwear. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." She whispers, starting to kiss up your thigh.

She gently kisses your clit through your panties, making you gasp. "I can see how wet you are, Y/n. You've soaked your panties." She whispers, looking up at you hungrily. You don't protest as she slides them down next.

"Oh baby..." She coos, looking at your pussy. "Your little clit is swollen...do you want me to make it all better? Hmm?" She asks, making you whine.

You nod.

That clearly didn't satisfy her because the next second, you feel a small slap to your pussy. "Use your words like a good girl." She says firmly. Holy fuck.

"Y-Yes...please make it better!" You whimper. She gives you a smile before you feel her tongue on your clit.

She teases you just a little before reaching up and putting two of her fingers inside you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight. You can take another one, can't you?" She says, her tone mocking. When you whine, shaking your head, she adds another anyway, giving you a nice stretch.

Having both her fingers and her tongue feels like heaven. Pure heaven. But that thought quickly leaves your mind when you feel her change the pace.

You could hear the wet sound of your pussy as her fingers set an unforgivable pace. "H-Hyun-ju!" You squel. "T-To much p-please slow down!" You moan.

You look down, watching as she pulls away from your clit, smirking.

"To bad." She says, fingerings you a little harder. "Oh fuck!" You scream, the back of your head against the wall.

"Do you think Gi-Hun could make you feel this good? Hmm?" She asks, her eyes sharp. You quickly shake your head, which makes her stop.

"What did I say about using your words?" She sneers, taking her fingers away. "No no please don't stop!" You beg, your hips lifting trying to get her back.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" She asks, her lips kissing the skin just above your clit.

You go to nod, but remember her words. "Yes!" You say, making her tikt her head. "Tsk tsk tsk, say it properly, baby. Tell me you'll be a good girl for me." She commands.

"I'll be a good girl for you!" You say quickly, making her chuckle once more. "Only for me?" She asks, and you nod quickly. "Yes yes only for you Hyun-ju!"

She puts her fingers back inside you, setting another brutal pace. "Are you going to cum for me?" She asks.

"Yes yes! I'm so close!" You whimper. Not expecting her to pull away again, but she does.

"I don't think so. Not until I know you're sorry. You hurt my feelings with the way you looked at Gi-Hun. How do I know you won't let him touch you again? Hmm?" She says, licking her fingers clean of you.

You almost cry. "I am sorry, Hyun-ju. I'm so sorry, I only want you!"

She pretends to think, her thumb reaches up, keeping you on edge by rubbing tight circles on your already overstimulated clit.

"If I see you even look in his direction, I'll have you over my knee, no matter if we're in the bathroom or not." She says, making you nod.

This time, when you feel her fingers and that familiar pressure building in your tummy, she doesn't pull away. "Cum for me, pretty girl." She says, her voice sending vibrations through your core.

She stimulates you through your climax, making sure not a second of pleasure is wasted. "Such a good girl for me." She whispers, her head getting awfully close to your core.

"W-what are y-" you can't finish your sentence as she licks into you. "Mmm let me clean you up, baby." She says.

After she helps you put your shirt and pants back on, she picks up the discarded bra, putting it in her pocket. "Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest for tomorrow." She says, her tone now soft.

She holds your hand on the walk back to your bunk. She even kisses your forehead before she walks back to her own.

You don't notice that she makes a stop first.

Hyun-ju walks up to player 456's bed, leaving a torn purple fabric next to his shoes.

Stay away from her girl Gi-Hun✋🏻😏

[mrsnishimuraaa]

chemistry

PAIRING: riki x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: who knew a dance collab could create such a sweet bond between two idols?

GENRE: fluff , crack if u squint

this is not proofread (sorry) kind of short and a wee bit rushed but i have other works in the making i promise 😭

being in the idol industry was always going to be stressful why wouldent it be? but your worries almost always flush away when your able to dance. having met so many people that inspired you to get to where you are now enlightened you and encourages you to work hard. having danced ever since a young age and it being something you enjoy makes you love your job that extra bit more, and now you have the opportunity to work with nishimura riki who’s also known for his talent in dancing.

saying your excited is a understatement it’s so much more than that, but at the same time your nervous but you brush it off as you make your way into the HYBE building. the moment you make it upstairs to the practice rooms, your greeted by riki himself bowing and small hello’s fill the room as you both introduce yourselves. he leads you to the practice room where you assume your gonna be spending hours in for the next few weeks preparing for this award show, none the less you really don’t mind. the two of you sit in the middle of the room with a laptop, listening to songs and starting to think about what song your going to be performing. after what felt like a million years of search you had both come to terms with ‘been like this’ by doja cat. as it was already getting late, you decided to meet back in the morning to get a full day of choreographing together.

the following day your met in the same spot, having decided that you both wanted to work independently with each other , meaning there was no staff and no choreographer, just the two of you to figure it out on your own.

hours pass by and you have the basic of it all choreographed now you just have to add all the fine details and peice it all together. “your really a quick learner” riki shoots the complement at you, taking a sip out of his water bottle “ oh thank you, could say the same about you” letting out a breathy laugh. “god it’s so hot in here” you fan yourself as you scope the room for a fan or anything. “i know, hybe’s cooling system is broken at the moment” he laughs at the way you throw yourself onto the floor and sigh at his statement. “is this company not making millions” you sit up and he laughs, taking his hoodie off, leaving him in just a tank top and his baggy jeans.

whilst having your break you both snack and chat, cracking jokes and telling purposeless stories. the two of you have great chemistry not only in dance but in general. and when you get back to practicing the heat really gets to you “can i take my jumper off?” you ask purely just to make sure he’s comfortable with you being half naked “go for it, i would be barely surviving if i were you” he chuckles as he re sets the song back to the start over at the laptop. pulling your jumper over your head and throwing it over to pile with riki’s , leaving you in a provocatively small sports bra and your sweatpants.

riki can’t help but eye your figure down for a moment, admiring your flawless body as you adjust your pants to put them back in their original low rise position. but he quickly shoves those thoughts away when you speak “okay i’m ready” your bubbly giggle makes him smile. the playful side of the both of you starts to peek through as you get more comfortable with each other , but when explaining a small detail of the dance to you that you don’t get ends you up in a position of riki’s hands gently placed on your bare waist as he guides the movement, you watch in the mirror as he corrects your arm movement, yet still keeping his hand on your waist. (safe to say it took a while because you 100% were not focusing on the move at all-)

the ending of the dance finishes with body rolling against eachother, the synchronised movements are so satisfying to look at and especially as his hand snakes to rest on your waist as you move together. the song finishes and he immediately buries his face into your shoulder, hugging your waist as he practically collapses on you. “riki! your heavy” you joke, laughing as you try to scramble away but he only wraps his arms around you tighter, his tall frame encapsulating you.

he spins you to face him and you look up at his face, dark hair sticking to his forehead as his face shines slightly due to the sweat, the heat generated between the two bodies doubles as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “so pretty” he smiles at you and you can feel your cheeks grow redder. he slowly rocks you both side to side, it stifles a giggle from you, causing him to smile at you, god why are you so cute.

you manage to break free from his hold, laying down on the cold floor, he eyes you down whilst smirking “what” you laugh and look at him in question “nothing im just admiring you is that illegal” he jokes, pulling your legs to spin you on the floor, your laugh echoes through the room “help me up” you pretend to lay helpless infront of him, he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to you, as he grips your hand pulling you up, he wraps his arms around you once more. but this time when you go to look up at him he takes the chance and presses a soft kiss against your lips, the suprised yet flustered look on your face as your heart beats like it wants out of your chest. you pull him back into a soft, slow and intimate kiss.

his hands draw circles on your lower back as yours find themselves in his hair, soft and wet kisses being pressed against eachothers mouths as the sound of kissing fills the room. you have to stand on your tippy toes as he’s far to tall compared to you before pulling away to make eye contact with eachother and smile. he presses a kiss to your forehead, the intamacy of the moment immediately recharges your energy, but makes the room a hundred times hotter.

luckily (even after all the distractions) you were able to both go home with an award 2 weeks later, the hard work paying off and fans adoring the interaction of their favourite dancers, begging for more collaborations.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Can u pls make a thanos x reader smut where the reader and him take the pills and fuck in the squid game bathroom?

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, taking substances/drugs, under the influence type sex, swearing, public bathroom sex, dry humping, a bit of eating out, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), kissing/making out, biting, titty grabbing, slight choking.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

Ever since you and Thanos had arrived at the games, all you've ever done was literally have sex in the women's bathroom on your free time. Not only that, but you'd also take drugs that you both kept in your matching cross necklaces. They'd be times where you'd both take a pill from each other's crosses as a form of rationing and such. When Nam Gyu had pestered Thanos into giving him pills. You either took less and managed to cut the pills in half.

That evening after the mingle game, you had gone to the bathroom. After a few minutes, Thanos had also needed to use the bathroom. As soon as he entered the women's bathroom, he pounced on you and attacked your lips with his. You quickly followed and processed to kiss him. It was harsh and aggressive, you had taken a pill a few minutes prior and so did he. You both wanted to be ready for when the time came.

Thanos damn near slammed you against the wall, you didn't mind at all. You enjoyed a little pain. You felt how his hand creeped up to your chest and grabbed your breast, giving them desperate and oddly satisfying squeeze. You loved it when he grabbed your breasts, that was enough to get you dripping. You gasped against his lips as you felt him pinch your nipples. That made Thanos chuckle, squeezing your breasts even more. You couldn't help but moan and squeeze your thighs together. You could feel how easily you were getting wet and Thanos knew it.

Then Thanos pulled away from you, guiding you over to the silk and slightly pushed your upper body down. You got a grip on the silk, feeling how Thanos kissed the back of your neck, while he grabbed your breasts from behind. You let out a small sigh, feeling how his boner was now rubbing against your ass and clothed pussy. "Stop teasing and fuck me already!" You growled, you couldn't take it anymore. You needed him inside you, now.

"Oh! Needy are we? I always liked that about you!" He growled softly against your ear. He then pulled down your pants and panties down to your ankles, then spread your legs wider. "Damn." He hissed, seen how you were practically dripping. He got down on his knees and processed to devour your pussy. You held tightly onto the sink as you felt Thanos tongue on your clit and his mouth lapping at your soaking pussy. "Thanos!" You moaned, throwing your head back as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy. He growled and moaned against your folds. You felt his tongue hits all kinds of spots inside you. It felt good, it always felt good. It didn't matter whether it was his fingers, mouth, tongue or cock. Thanos always knew how to make you feel good.

Finally, Thanos pulled away, a string of your juices and saliva were attached on his lips and yours. He then got back up and pulled his pants down with his boxers. He cock now free, he got a hold of it and he spat right on it. Both his saliva and juices together, were now coating his shaft. He stroked himself a few times and he pushed himself inside you like a glove. "Fuck!" You screamed, you wanted this, you missed this, you couldn't live with out it.

Thanos then got a hold of your biceps and just thrusted, like a there was no tomorrow. He just thrusted his hips, fast and hard. Your skin and his slapped each other harshly. Causing the sound to echo in the bathroom walls, mixed with your desperate and needy moans. He let go of your biceps, then pulled your body close so that your back was on his chest. He kissed and nibbled at your neck, while on arm held your waist, the other was grabbing at your breast again. He is such a tits guy. No matter what or how, his hand would always be on your breasts.

He then let go of your waist, then his hand wrapped itself around your neck. Giving it a small and gentle squeeze, that made you squeeze around him. He knew how much you liked getting choked while he was railing you. His thrusts got harder, he just pounded in you as if nothing. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at this point, slowly you felt dense and soon to pass out. You didn't even notice when Thanos hand went down to your clit and began to give it harsh rubs. You slightly flinched once you felt his hand in motion on your clit.

Finally after a few more thrusts, you felt your orgasm hit you like a like. As you came, so did Thanos. You felt how his hot seed began to fill you to the brim. It was hot, everything around you was hot. From your skin, his skin, the air. Everything. You tried to catch your breath, but it was a bit hard too. Thanos then let go of your throat and looked at you. "You okay?" He asked, while you somewhat nodded. He smiled, then gave you a soft kiss on the cheekbone, down to your cheek and neck. His purple hair tickled your cheek, making you giggle. "Another?" He asked, giving you those puppy eyes he normally does when he wants to suck on your tits. You smiled at him. "You know the answer to that." You said, teasingly. Yes, the answer was always yes.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HI I'M BACK here's a oneshot that I got the idea for in the middle of uni.

Also apologies that I haven't posted at all in January I'll be back properly I promise.

"It's not too late to back out, if you want," Remus offers, turning to Sirius.

"As if. We're here now, Moons. Besides, I think freaking out your entire extended family is a perfect use of my time." He holds out his hand, offering it to Remus. Remus rolls his eyes, but Sirius doesn't miss the smile that comes as he reaches out to grab his hand.

Honestly? Part of Sirius does want to run away. A big part of him regrets to agreeing in the first place.

Still, he's doing this for Remus.

"Me? Why in Merlin's name would you say my name?" Sirius asked, a little dumbfounded.

"I panicked!" Remus said back. "She was so excited about the possibility of me bringing a guy to the wedding, and I only really know three guys!"

Well, he wasn't exactly wrong.

"You don't have to come," he said quickly. "I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask? Four hours, free food, freak out my relatives who don't know I'm gay?"

"When you put it like that..."

Four hours in a liminal space where he can call Remus Lupin his boyfriend. Embarrassingly enough, Sirius has had dreams about this. Maybe not as a sudden stand in to make Hope happy, but he'll take whatever he can get, really.

It's going to suck when the night is over, though. His one scrap of self preservation was the only thing keeping him from agreeing. There's still a small part of him urging him to run away, protect himself by living with the careful boundaries he's drawn in his head to keep him from breaking his own heart. He knows Remus will never feel the same, and he also knows that he should be a lot more careful to keep himself sane, but he's here now. Surely he should just... embrace it?

The two of them walk through the muggle car park and down to the reception hall.

"Remus!" A girl's voice rings out, and Sirius feels Remus' grip tighten on his hand.

"Hi, Aunt Anna." Remus smiles graciously. Sirius watches the woman grind to a halt in front of Remus. It's as if there's some kind of magnetic field around him that keeps her from getting any closer.

"How is everything? How's the... special school?" She lowers her voice to say this, and Remus' smile strains a little. Sirius looks between them, a little confused. Is there something wrong with whatever stand in Remus is using for Hogwarts?

"Aunt Anna, I graduated in July. And it was a specialised school," he corrects politely. "More focused studies?" He says it like he's had to make this correction over and over. She smiles patronisingly, making Sirius' hair stand on end.

"Of course it was!" Her voice is fake, dismissive, frustrating Sirius to no end. Her eyes finally flick to Sirius, curiosity overtaking any sense of falseness on her face. "Who's this? Brought a friend along?"

"Oh, actually, he's not my friend, he's, er..." He glances a little helplessly at Sirius. Little does he know, the decision to go all in has solidified itself in his head. These stupid, patronising family members are going to respect Remus by the end of the night if it kills him.

"I'm his boyfriend. Sirius Black." He extends his hand with a smile that makes Anna blink, a little taken aback.

"Boyfriend? You're... oh!" She looks around, as if searching for someone else to have heard it. "Well, I guess it makes sense that you're... yeah. Um..." She smooths her skirt down, suddenly uncomfortable. "How did you two, er... meet?"

"We went to school together." Her eyes widen, and he nods. "Yeah, focused studies."

"Oh. Huh. I wouldn't have thought... What- what have you been up to then, Remus?"

"Not much, really."

"God, you're so modest!" Sirius says, quickly wrapping an arm around Remus' waist and pulling himself a little closer. He hears Anna clear her throat, fixing her expression as soon as he turns to face her. "He's gotten so many offers."

"Offers for what?"

"He hasn't told you?" Sirius asks innocently. She shakes her head, and he smiles at her. "He's going to be a doctor. Hospitals are fighting over him."

"A... doctor?" For a second, Sirius thinks he's accidentally fucked up the word, until Remus nods a little awkwardly.

"Yeah, there are a few places offering me spots. It's hardly fighting, though-"

"Haven't you gotten baskets from all five locations? I mean, you're getting offers from America!"

"Yeah, guess so." He shrugs, but Sirius is already happy enough with what he's done. Anna looks between them, a little surprised, before nodding once.

"Nice to see you, Remus." She turns to leave.

"It was lovely to meet you!" Sirius calls after her with a sweet smile.

"Sirius!" Remus turns to him, stunned.

"What?" He asks innocently. "I'm just showing you off a little!"

"She's going to be pissed." Remus bites his lower lip, worried. For a second, Sirius' mind malfunctions, having to tear his eyes away from Remus' lips and back to his eyes when he turns to face him. "She had to write Sam's personal statement for Cardiff Uni."

"Oh, then she can't say a bloody word! Special school, she can fucking bite me." It draws a chuckle out of Remus, much to Sirius' delight. "Right, should we find your mum?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

Much to Remus' dismay, they run into a fair few of his extended family on the way. Sirius does nothing but fawn over Remus, making sure to push his multitude of achievements. It's not exactly hard to do. If Remus was slightly less lovely all the time, he'd be able to do this. He shouldn't be his family's punching bag, and Sirius isn't about to let that continue. He's not even lying, he's just pointing out the things he notices every day. It's scarily easy. He manages to get two judgemental uncles to back off, as well as the boy who can't even write his own essay, clearly pushed over by his aunt and forced to flaunt a few flimsy achievements. Sirius feels a little bad for him, so he's not as obvious about pushing Remus' life to the forefront. It works all the same, getting Sam away before he could even start talking about the fact that Minnie wanted Remus to consider training to teach at Hogwarts.

By the time they reach Hope, Remus has turned bright red. It's a magnificent sight. Sirius wishes he could do this every day.

"Remus! Oh, and Sirius! Hi!" Hope is clearly a little tipsy, cheeks flushed as she beams at the two of them, pulling Remus into a hug, promptly followed by Sirius. "I'm so glad you could make it, Sirius."

"Wouldn't miss it," he answers back with a grin.

"Yeah, that's what I'm starting to get," Remus mumbles under his breath. Sirius hasn't missed the fact that he's standing a little taller than he was when he walked in, though. He's just too nice to push back at his family. "Mum, don't be surprised if Aunt Anna says I've grown into a rude young man as soon as she's got a drink down her."

"Why? What happened? Oh, she's always been a bit of a-"

"No, it's nothing. I just want you to be prepared." Remus waves her off, but Sirius has other plans.

"She was being shitty," Sirius answers with a shrug. Hope turns to him, and he elaborates. "She kept talking to Remus like he's a child! The moment I pointed out that he's actually pretty smart, in a pretty tame way, actually, she turned and left. I didn't think it was that bad."

Hope looks between the two of them, before bursting out laughing. Remus and Sirius exchange a slightly confused glance, as Hope tries to pull herself together.

"Oh, I'm so glad you-! I've tried my best, but she just- I don't think she cares what I say. I can't believe you managed... thank you, Sirius, that's absolutely brilliant!" Sirius beams at a stunned Remus, pleased. At least it wasn't just him who thinks that Remus' extended family are a bunch of self-centered wankers. "Honestly, Remus has talked non-stop about you, I'm so glad he finally found the courage to ask you!"

What?

Sirius' heart does a strange thing where it skips several beats all at once, making him feel a little dizzy.

"Non-stop?" He asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Yes, absolutely non-stop!"

"Mum," Remus says quickly, shooting her a glance. She seems completely undeterred, though.

"I told him it was worth taking the risk a long time ago. I mean, you're a lovely boy, and it's clear how much you care about him. It's just nice to know that it all paid off! I had a good feeling about you two-"

"Mum, I'm going to get a drink," Remus interjects suddenly. "I'll be back in a second." She looks like she's about to protest, but Remus is still going, voice slightly unsteady. "I'll tell you what Sirius said to everybody after. Come on, Sirius."

He grabs Sirius gently by the arm, pulling him in the direction of the bar before Sirius has a chance to say anything. Before they reach the bar, he veers off and shoves a door open. They turn a corner and get into a cramped room absolutely full of fold-able chairs. Remus shuts the door and lets go of Sirius' arm, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning against the door. His hands are shaking, and he looks a little like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

"...I'd have quite liked to hear more," Sirius says eventually, breaking the weird silence. Remus finally looks up at Sirius, a mix of confusion, frustration and panic evident.

"I feel like that was embarrassing enough," Remus answers simply, eyes flicking back to the floor.

"Is that why you asked me?" Sirius asks suddenly. He knows he should really say more, but he has countless questions, and he needs at least one of them answered. Remus nods once, playing with his fingers.

"Mum made the guess. She wouldn't have believed me if I'd said no."

"Because you've been talking about me 'non-stop,'" Sirius supplies, careful to use Hope's exact words. Remus nods quickly, face turning much redder than it had been before.

"Sorry," he says before Sirius can say anything else. Sirius frowns.

"For what?"

"Lying to you. I mean, I basically tricked you into this whole thing because I didn't want to disappoint my mum."

"You gave me an out multiple times," Sirius tries, but Remus isn't done.

"And for, er... what my mum said. I didn't realise that she'd... you can leave, if you want. I wouldn't be pissed. I mean, fuck, I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't want to speak to me for a while." Okay, now Sirius is much more confused. "I... I really hope this doesn't ruin our friendship, though. I know it's probably going to feel weird now, and I get that, but I- Merlin, I really don't want to lose you, Sirius."

"Remus," Sirius starts gently.

"I mean, we could just forget that she ever said that. I've been perfectly fine living like this until now, I'll be okay."

"Moony."

"Sorry. God, if I'd known that was going to happen I wouldn't have... I could have just... I don't know, fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"Remus!" Sirius finally manages to snap him out of his strange, apologetic tangent. "I just want to make sure that I haven't hideously misunderstood what your mum said. You like me?" Remus nods, and Sirius takes a step closer. "Romantically?" He nods again. "And you have for a while now?"

Remus barely gets a chance to nod before Sirius closes the gap between them, connecting their lips. He hears Remus gasp as he pulls away, locking eyes with him and watching him carefully. For a second, he watches as Remus' brain speeds up, eyes scanning over Sirius' face as he tries to process everything.

Eventually, he seems to throw out every thought in his brain, cupping Sirius' face in both of his hands and kissing him back. Time stops as Sirius is caught up in the feeling of Remus' lips on his, one hand moving from his face and into his hair, his own arms moving impulsively to wrap around Remus' waist. It's everything Sirius could have imagined and more. Part of him still thinks he's imagining things, that there's no way Remus is actually here kissing him. It's overwhelmingly perfect, making Sirius feel a little giddy with the joy rising in his chest-

"Oh my Lord!" A shrill voice that Sirius recognises as Anna interrupts them, forcing them apart. "I- I'm just- right, um... I- okay." She turns and leaves, absolutely dumbfounded, eyes wide and a little horrified. For a second they both look at the closed door, before turning to exchange a glance. The moment their eyes lock, Sirius starts laughing. It doesn't take much for Remus to join in, as Sirius drops his head on Remus' shoulder and Remus laughs along with him.

Fuck Remus' strange extended family.

Nothing can ruin this for them.

[milkteabies]

Haikyuu characters when (y/n) passes out bc of her period

characters: Tsukishima and Iwaizumi

(I meant to do more characters but I accidentally wrote too much just for these two)

a/n: this is purely self indulgent bc my period makes me pass out sometimes lol, so this is a female reader and ofc talks of periods and blood and passing out, so if that isn’t your thing or makes you uncomfortable, find something that’s more for you dear :D

also characters are probs ooc bc this is the first time I’ve written for them lol, so sorry in advance!!

—————

Tsukishima:

You had already started your period a few days ago, and just before it ends is when it’s the worst. The bleeding gets so heavy and no matter what, you feel very faint, but you couldn’t exactly skip school because you had an exam that you needed to do that you know the teacher wouldn’t allow to be retaken or rescheduled, so you hunkered down and trudged on.

Walking to school alone was uncomfortable, your cramps twisting in your stomach like a cheese grater to your organs. You were so distracted by the pain you didn’t even realize the footsteps coming up behind you.

“Can’t believe you’d leave me behind like that.” Tsukishima scoffs, his long strides easily falling into step next to your slightly stilted ones.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Tsukishima, I was distracted thinking about my exam today.” You smile up at him kindly, heart stuttering slightly, arms crossed over your stomach to try and alleviate the pain.

“Yeah, you told me about that last night… What are you doing with your arms?”

You look down at where they cross and shrug with a tired smile, “I’m just feeling a little cold today I think. Anyway, I’ll see you after your practice, yeah?” You wave as you walk off, joining Yachi and a few other friends to walk to class together, unaware of the secretly worried look following after you.

You’re in class, taking notes just before lunch when an incredibly strong pang hits you, squeezing the breath from your lungs. Quietly, you wheeze to try and distract yourself, and Yachi, who sits next to you, gently presses a hand to your arm in worry.

“Hey, you okay? Whats going on?” She whispers, glancing to the teacher to make sure they don’t notice.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just cramps.” You whisper back shakily, wrapping an arm snugly around your stomach.

Yachi gives you a sympathetic look, well aware of your struggles. “I have some extra strength advil in my bag, I’ll give you some at lunch.”

You mouth a thank you and quickly go back to taking notes when the teacher turns around.

As lunch starts, your friends amble around your desk to eat together, and Yachi quickly roots around for the medication and hands it to you, which you take immediately.

To try and avoid an extra stomach ache, you eat the light snack you packed with you, not having a lunch since you knew you would be too nauseous to keep anything down.

A minute later, the door to the classroom slides open and a familiar tall, bespectacled blond leans in. Your friend nudges you, and gestures with her head to the door when you look up.

You wave as you walk over to the door, “Hey Tsukishima, whats up?” You ask, standing in front of him.

“Just came to see if you were skipping lunch to do some last minute cramming for your exam.” He snarks, easily hiding the fact that he was worried and also wanted to maybe eat lunch with you to potentially help you study. Allegedly.

You laugh at his statement, knowing what he wants but continuing the bit, “I haven’t eaten in three days preparing, you think I’ll break my streak now?”

Tsukishima’s lips quirk before he hears a call of his name down the hall from Yamaguchi. “Ah, I have to go… Here. Make sure to actually eat something to power that pea brain of yours.” He huffs, pressing a strawberry cream bun to your hand before quickly walking off, his ears burning red.

You giggle after him, heart fluttering, before walking back to your desk where your friends all “oooh” and “aawww” at you which you wave off, slightly flustered.

Finally, at your last class of the day where your exam was set to take place, you knew it was gonna be tough. The medicine your friend gave you worked for a while into the exam, but by the end, it had worn off completely and you were not feeling good. You managed to finish the exam with a few minutes to spare, along with Yachi, because you shared the class, who you turned your exam in with, before packing up to leave.

Gathering your stuff, you felt almost all of your blood rush from your head as you stood up with your bag, and stumbled slightly. Yachi caught your arm and looked on in concern, but you smiled and waved it off to walk outside of the classroom. You barely made it a few feet out the door before your vision started to cloud.

Your heart was pounding and blackness bloomed across your eyes. You stumbled again, hitting the wall with your shoulder as Yachi rushed to your side, “(Y/n)! Oh my god, are you okay?!” She whispered loudly, kneeling in front of you, hands shaking.

“I- I can’t see.” You mumbled before your consciousness evaded you, and you slumped forward into your her arms.

It felt like an instant that you were awake again, no longer in the hallway, but now the nurses office, lying on a bed. As soon as you were aware of your surroundings, you became aware of your body and the cramps that were still crushing your insides.

You groaned as you sat up, a cold wet cloth flopping into your lap before you yelped when a snarky voice suddenly spoke up from next to you, “You should keep lying down, you might pass out again.”

Looking to your side, you found Tsukishima sitting in a chair, staring right at you with furrowed brows.

“Tsukishima? What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice- what time is it?” You questioned, looking around for your bag before another moment of lightheadedness hit you, making you press a hand to your forehead.

Tsukishima quickly stood up, pressing a hand against your shoulder, “Hey, listen to what I said! Lay back down!” He pushed, but you grabbed his wrist and pressed your forehead against his chest, breathing shakily.

“You idiot.” He mumbled, gently resting a hand on the back of your head.

You sighed before looking up at him, his hand still on your head. “Why’re you here?” You asked again.

“I was supposed to be at practice, but when Yachi called me, telling me you had passed out in the hallway, I couldn’t just not come. Who do you think brought you here? Yachi definitely isn’t strong enough to carry you.” He explains, brows furrowed again in worry.

“Ah, sorry about that.” You mumble, looking away from his eyes, but the hand previously on your head reaches for your chin and turns you back to him.

His eyes flicker around your face, as if searching before he finally demands, “What happened?”

You shrink a little into yourself, face flushing, but the hand on your chin holds firm as a second hand rests next to your thighs, trapping you in place. “…This’s never happened at school, it’s luckily only happened when I’ve been home, and normally my parents can take care of me, but my period makes me super light headed sometimes and I can pass out.” You murmur against squished cheeks.

Tsukishima’s face drops at the admission, “… So this happens regularly?”

“Well, kind of like every other period, but there have been times when it’s happened more than once if I have a really bad week.” You trail off, shrinking under his growing anger.

“And you’ve never told me about this because..?”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you and, like I said, normally my parents take care of me-“

“But what about times where they couldn’t?”

“I just lay down on the floor and then wake up later?”

Tsukishima can actively feel his blood pressure rise as he sighs, releasing your chin to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“I’m taking you home and staying with you until your parents get home.” He states, standing back to full height before picking up both of your bags and pulling out his phone, presumably to text his team that he won’t return to practice at all.

“Tsukishima, you really don’t have to-!”

“I will, because you clearly can’t take care of yourself.”

“It’s not like I can control it!”

“Which is exactly why I’m going to take care of you. You can’t control it, and I don’t want to have to worry about you until I see you again!”

You’re stunned at the admission, feeling your ears burn at the worried look on Tsukishima’s face before you try again. “Really, it’s no big deal! You shouldn’t have to deal with your friend who-“ but before you can finish, you’re silenced by a pair of lips that press against yours.

You whimper in surprise as Tsukishima pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours, cheeks red as he glares at you, “I care about you and want to take care of you because I love you, can’t you understand that?” He demandss.

“Love?!” You squeak, pulling away to turn and hide your burning face in your hands.

“Yes, love.” He huffs, prying one hand away from your face to wrap an arm around your waist and rest his forehead against your shoulder. “…When Yachi called me, I ran across the school to get to you.” He mumbles.

Your heart racing, you take your other hand away from your face and gently tangle it through Tsukishima’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him shiver. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“… Whatever, it was my choice to worry, anyway.” He huffs again, standing and angling his head away to try and stop you from seeing his red face, but failing as you laugh, the cloth in your lap slowly wetting your skirt.

Iwaizumi:

Your stomach had been hurting all day. No matter of medication was able to stop the pain and despite having dealt with it for so long, you never got used to it and it never got better.

You just wanted to go home and lay down for the rest of the day, but responsibilities and school work didn’t stop just because you were tired, and you still had to get through practice after school, being the manager of the boy’s volleyball club. You’d just have to steel yourself to power through until you could go home.

Sighing when the final school bell rang, you slowly packed up your stuff and tiredly shuffled your way to the gym, biting your lip with each painful ache that shot through your system.

As you neared the gym, you could see the large cluster of girls already flocking to the open door, none of them daring to cross the threshold as they watched the team warm up. “Excuse me, girls.” You called politely, smiling when they shuffled around to let you through, greeting you kindly.

As you made it to the front, a stack of letters were shoved into your hands before the swarm cleared out, making you giggle as they chorused goodbyes and lightly pushed at each other bashfully. You closed the door to the gym and were again greeted, this time by the actual team.

“(Y/n)-chan! Is one of these letters finally from you?” Oikawa cooes playfully, taking the letters you held out to him, obviously from the girls who were just here.

“You’ve gotta try a bit harder if you want to actually be able to win my love, Oikawa.” You answered blankly, setting down your bag and starting on your basic duties.

Oikawa failed to respond as a ball ricocheted off the back of his head, making him fall forward as Iwaizumi barked out from behind, “Get back to practice Trashykawa!”

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean to me!” He cries, stumbling back to court as you shake your head fondly at their actions.

As they continue to warm up, you go to fill up the water bottles, keeling over the water station when an especially sharp pain hit. You quickly straightened up when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, but winced again, pressing a hand to your side.

“Woah, are you alright?” The voice you now recognized as Iwaizumi asked as he appeared at your side, a large, warm hand pressed against the small of your back, making your face flush despite yourself.

You wave off his concern with a strained laugh, “Ah, I’m fine! Don’t worry, just a little side cramp.” You smile up at him, making his face burn at how cute he found you.

“R-right, sorry.” He quickly backs away, hands raised stiffly when he realized he was touching you. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” He asks, pointing to the crate of bottles.

“No, it’s fine. Focus of practice, Iwaizumi, not on the manager tasks I do every day.” You simper, resting a hand against his bicep before scampering off to return the, now full, water bottles.

Iwaizumi feels his heart race at the contact before shaking himself out of his head, where he will definitely be replaying that moment, to go back to practice. “Where did you go, Iwa?” Matsukawa asks rhetorically, snickering with Hanamaki at Iwaizumi’s flustered face before running off when he threatens them with a ball.

As they continue through practice, you’re sitting on your bench on the side, half empty water bottles to your left, a bag of towels to your right, and writing on your clip board the practice scores and what specific players should practice on, on their individual sheets.

Every few seconds you can feel your eyebrow twitch in tandem with each cramp that hits. You slowly feel yourself start to sweat, the back of your shirt clinging to your skin uncomfortably and your hands going clammy. Fanning yourself with a free hand, you reach for your own water bottle.

The cool water helps, partly, but not enough. The heat in the gym is getting to you, the constant squeaking of sneakers and slamming of the ball, you can feel your chest get tighter, your vision blurring, head starting to spin. You quietly get up and speed walk to the door, fanning yourself with your clipboard as you go.

Making it outside, you take a few stumbling steps to lean against the wall of the gym, hearing muffled and ringing, but suddenly aware of someone coming up behind you with quick steps. “Hey, what happened?” Iwaizumi asks, holding onto your shoulder in worry, brows furrowed.

“Aw, you care about me, Iwaizumi?” You can’t help but tease, a feigned, coy smile on your lips which makes him flush and stutter in his steps and response.

“I-I’m just feeling a little hot.” You pant, continuing to fan yourself and attempting to take a step forward when your legs suddenly fail you and you stumble to your knees, dropping the clipboard, papers scattering.

“O-oi, (y/n)!” He calls, dropping down next to you and catching you with an arm across your clavicle when you suddenly slump forward, eyes shut.

You wake up with a start, finding yourself on a bench in the team room with a cool pack on your head. Reaching up, you grab the pack and slowly sit up, swinging your legs down to sit normally.

“You’re finally awake.” Iwaizumi’s relieved voice sounds from the door of the room, startling you into dropping the pack on the floor. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, quickly coming to your side with your water bottle in hand.

You take the bottle and drink a few gulps, accidentally spilling some drops from the corner of your mouth which slide down the side of your neck. Iwaizumi can’t help but watch them fall before shooting his eyes back to your face when you clear your throat.

“Did-uh, did you bring me here?” You ask awkwardly, wiping away the spilled water.

“Yeah, you collapsed in my arms, and the nurse’s office was closed, so I-uh, brought you back here instead. If you weren’t feeling good, you should have just gone home.” Iwaizumi reprimands gently, sitting on the bench sideways to face you, watching your shoulders slump in mild shame.

Nodding along, you laugh, “I probably should have, but I thought I’d be able to last. I didn’t want to leave you guys manager-less if I could just power through. This normally hap-”

“This is normal?” Iwaizumi cuts you off, leaning in to look at you with a shocked and worried expression.

You lean back, flushing at the sudden proximity. “W-well, kinda. My period can get pretty heavy, and it can make me all lightheaded, and sometimes I pass out. But it normally happens at home, not at school!” You stumble through your explanation, pressing a hand to Iwaizumi’s chest and turning to look any place other than his face.

“That’s not safe at all! What happens if you fall and hit your head?!” He demands, leaning closer, one hand grabbing your waist, the other pressing the hand on his chest closer so you could practically feel his heart racing.

“My-my parents help me, or I just lay down until I can get up!” You stammer, only making it worse.

Iwaizumi sighs into your shoulder, hugging you close to his chest between his legs. You sputter at the sudden contact, arms trapped between your chests, but freeze when you feel his hand squeeze your waist.

“You’re gonna make my heart give out. You make me so worried.” He mumbles into your shirt.

Your hands grip the front of his uniform tightly as your eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment at how hot your face feels. “Sorry.” You whisper into his hair.

“It’s not your fault, but… please, let me take you home so I know you won’t just pass out on the side of the road.” He practically begs, unconsciously circling his thumb on your hip comfortingly.

You giggle at his words, heart fluttering from his actions. “Ok, just so I can pass out in your arms instead.” You simper, quieting a giddy shriek when his hands squeeze your waist tighter as he chuckles into your neck.

—————

a/n: let me know if I should write for other characters, or if you have any fun ideas/requests!!

[ameliathornromance]

The Other Woman - Final Part

A/N: Here’s part three! I know you guys wanted to know what happened to the Guard’s wife so here it is; This will also be the last part I do for this series as I’ve got a ton of other ideas and I’d like to work on those as well. Anyway, enjoy the last part!

Since you’d left the Palace in the Human populated area, time went by in a whirlwind.

Your wedding with the Lord had happened quickly after leaving and was one of the prettiest events the whole forest – and some humans – had ever seen.

The Fae Lord had been delighted to invite and meet the rest of your family. He and your father seemed to get along swimmingly already, and greeted each other like they were old friends when your families carriage arrived in the forest.

Later that evening, after catching up with your family and entertaining them the whole day, you had asked the Fae Lord something that had been on your mind for the day, “how and when did you meet my father?”

It had evaded you how he had asked your father for your hand, and it hadn’t occurred to you to ask your Fiance until today.

The Fae Lord gave his signature grin as he raised a tea cup to his lips, “I actually met him the night I said I wanted to help you.” He explained, “your father was in a pub and I had snuck out to go and do some late night drinking. He was there and we just hit it off.” The Lord set his cup down on its saucer and frowned. “Although, it wasn’t until the next morning that I actually found out he was your father, and then had to work on my image before I asked him for your hand.”

You snorted, “yeah something tells me he wouldn’t have been happy about a drunken Fae asking for my hand in marriage after you’d been out with him the previous night.”

Soon, your wares and personal items began to arrive from the Palace and amongst them, were all the presents that the King’s Guard had gifted you. They had been thrown into one of your many jewellery boxes, the necklaces tangled together with the many bracelets that the Orc had gifted you.

They felt dirty, wrong to even look at now, felt tarnished and rusted with sin as you ran your thumb over the smooth gold.

Of course, you wouldn’t dream of wearing them, but you also couldn’t stand to just throw them away. Many other people who were less fortunate than you could benefit from the money that these items cost… but the thought of giving the people evidence of adultery filled you with dread, made your stomach churn with anxiety.

You explained your complicated feelings to your fiance one morning at breakfast.

He listened intently, before suggesting, “why don’t you send them to King’s Guards’ wife?”

Your blood turned cold at the thought. “Isn’t that a bit… callous?” You asked. “For her I mean. She’s probably had the baby now, and isn’t in much of a situation to leave him if she wanted… That and then everyone would know what happened between me and her husband.”

“Not necessarily.” Your fiance said, raising a finger. He leaned his elbows on the breakfast table and pointed at you, “it doesn’t have to be done in bad taste. If you send her the jewellery and offer her a position here, with better pay and better accommodation, she may just come here and decide to work for us.”

“But what if she’s angry with me?” You asked, worriedly. “That would be such an insult to her! I don’t want to do anything to make her even more angry than she would already be with me.”

The Fae Lord pursed his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. “You didn’t know he was married did you?” He asked you.

“No, of course not!”

“And you stopped the affair after you found out, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did it!” You groaned.

The Fae took your hand in his, “look, you can’t control her reaction,” he said, plainly. “But, what you can do, is offer her compensation for the emotional damage she would feel from finding out. That’s why you would be offering her the job. She would be moved away from her husband, she gets better pay than she did at the Palace and her child gets to grow up in a place surrounded by greenery.” He gestured to the castle around him.

You stared at the polished wooden table in front of you. “But… what if she tells everyone that I had an affair with him?” You whispered. “I’d be ruined, and then we wouldn’t be able to marry, and then there’s my parents-”

“It would look worse on her.” The Lord said, “Of course, it’s bad that her husband had the affair, but she would be looked down on as an Orc, for trying to slander a person of the aristocracy.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “And I’ll be here to protect you, won’t I? I’ll make sure none of that does anything to stop us from being together. I promise.”

Now that you had gained some distance from the Palace you had contemplated on confessing everything to the Orc’s wife. She didn’t deserve to be stuck in that kind of situation, after all, it’s not like she did anything to warrant such an awful partner.

And so, with shaking hands and a clumsily written letter, you sent off the jewellery to the Palace and to the Orc’s wife.

The weeks after it had been sent off were like waiting on a jury verdict. Every morning you awoke in your bedroom, you expected the Fae servants attending you, to give you dirty looks or treat you coldly, as the news of you being a homewrecker, had spread through out the Kingdom and Forest.

And every morning, when that didn’t happen, you couldn’t help but sigh with relief – prompting some very concerned questions from your attendants.

You did your best to explain in the letter what had actually happened between you and the King’s Guard, and only hoped that his wife would be understanding.

You didn’t expect to be forgiven, but for her to understand would be more than enough.

What you didn’t expect however, was in the mid-afternoon when you were going over some favour colour choices for your wedding, that a Fae woman would burst into your office, panting. “Orc- woman-” she breathed, “demands to see- my Lady-”

You’d never abandoned an activity faster. Shoeing away the woman who’d brought you the favour colours, you asked the Fae, “where? Where is she?”

The Fae hoarsed out something about the Orc woman being in the gardens.

You practically dashed through the halls, leaving your own servants and the dignified stride of a Lady behind as you rushed for the gardens.

Finally, you reached the garden doors. They were tall, beautiful things, made of hard oak wood and harden sap panels for windows that swirled and curled, obscuring anyone from peering into the gardens.

As you reached for the twig door handles, you stopped just short of them.

Did you really want to see this Orc? Who was probably so angry with you, she might bite your head off?

It’s not like you could turn back now, after all, she’s right behind those crystal doors in front of you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you flung the doors open and stepped outside into the gardens.

You didn’t have to go far to find her.

The Orc Lady who you had seen in the kitchens, time and time again, with her kind smile and kind tone, was gone.

Instead, the Orc Lady stood with a suitcase in hand, a baby glued to her chest with a fabric cloth. The infant slept soundly, without any kind of inclination of what was going on.

Your stomach twisted as you recognised some of King’s Guards’ features on its face.

After a moment of silence, the Orc snarled at you. “Is it really true?” Her voice was as deep as thunder, full of murderous intent.

Pursing your lips, you lowered your head. There wasn’t anything that you could say or do to make this any better.

When you were thinking through your revenge plans, you truly had no idea whether or not you ought to tell the Guards wife. She was already going to be under enough stress as it was, seeing as she had to give birth to a baby in – what you judged to be at the time – a few weeks.

Adding a cheating husband to the mix, you determined, would do nothing to help her out.

When you said nothing, the Orc threw her suitcase at your feet. The jewellery you sent her exploded out of the case, scattered across the grass at your feet. “And you didn’t think to tell me!?” She shouted.

You kept quiet, staring at the collection of gold and silver at your feet.

“How dare you keep this from me!” She bellowed, “what did I do to deserve that being kept from me?! Did I wrong you in some way, (Y/N)?!”

Swallowing hard, you raised your head to look at her. “No.” You said, bravely. “You didn’t do anything… I was trying to think of your baby and your wellbeing-”

“And taking care of my wellbeing is keeping quiet about my cheating son of a bitch husband!?” She bellowed. She pointed a thick green finger at you, “that is not your decision to make!” She hissed.

“Well what was I supposed to do?!” You retorted. Kicking away the valuables, you approached her, “it’s not like I could out him for what he was! That would have ruined everything for me and you too! How would I know you wouldn’t do the same thing to me!?”

“Because I thought we were friends!” She snapped back.

You recoiled at her words. Friends?

The Orc’s chest heaved up and down as she rubbed her face, “I know that we weren’t exactly the closest of people,” she said, “but you were the only one who would come to the kitchens to purposefully see me. I liked having you around, (Y/N) and it broke my heart when… when he said I couldn’t tell anyone I was pregnant.” Taking her hands away from her face, she wiped her nose. “So I couldn’t see you anymore, or tell you. And I know that you didn’t know I was married, I can forgive you for that… but when you did find out, not telling me about any of it?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “And only getting that package and letter? It just…” She covered her mouth and looked away from you.

You stopped halfway over to her. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something comforting, supportive. But any kind of words like that died in your throat.

“I… I’m sorry.” you settled on finally. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I should have been up front and honest with you and shouldn’t have kept that from you.” For the first time since meeting your fiance, you cursed him.

You were right to think that his idea was cold. You continued your approach and placed a hand on the Orcs shoulder, “I know I can’t do anything to fix what I’ve done or change the past of what I did. But I can try and help you now and in the future.”

The Orc looked at you, her eyes bloodshot and still swimming with tears.

“Don’t feel like you have to take the job if you don’t want it,” you said, honestly. “If you don’t want it, I’ll be happy to do anything else to compensate what you lost – Hell, I’ll even find you a better husband if you wish.”

“I never said I wasn’t taking the job.” The Orc Lady said, quickly. She turned back around to face you. She wiped her fingers across her cheeks, drying up her stray tears and then cleared her throat. “But, if I’m going to work here, I want higher pay and more time off so I can spend it with my son.”

“Higher than I already offered?” You asked, slightly offended. What you originally offered was way higher than what the Palace was offering her, at least three times the pay. And now she wants more?

The Orc Lady crossed her arms, just in front of her baby and narrowed her eyes at you.

Sighing, you lamented, “okay, okay. Higher pay then.” You supposed that she had a right to demand more of you, especially after your affair.

She gave you a weary smile at you. “Thank you my Lady.” She pursed her lips, “and… thank you for finally telling me about what happened.”

The position you’d offered your ex’s wife, was kitchen work, but this time, she was head of it. Her son – whom she had decided to name Cogak – was a bright baby, even just fresh out of the womb.

You arranged for him to have his own nanny so his mother could work without worrying about him.

The friendship you’d had with the Orc Lady wouldn’t be like it was before, but your trying to make things better, was a start.

The Fae Lord had smiled one evening as the pair of you decided on what flowers would be at your wedding venue. “I never expected an Orcling to be so intelligent.”

“Well, he is getting a noble child’s education.” You explained. “Apparently, he’s already doing better than most children his age. And that’s comparing him to the other Fae.”

The Fae chuckled as he examined a bouquet of blue orchids. “What about these for the reception?”

“What’s your suit colour?” You asked, quickly.

As if your fiance was himself a bride, he’d been very closed about what kind of suit he would be wearing to your wedding.

One time, you’d walked into his office and he squealed, and threw himself on top of the sketches his designer had come up for him, like he was a maiden who’d been walked in on while getting changed.

His closed off nature about it, only made you even more curious.

“If you think you’re going to get that out of me that easily, then I’d say this marriage isn’t going to last long, my darling.” The Fae Lord smirked as he ran his thumb over the petals of the flower.

“Patiences is a virtue. You don’t see me trying to peek at your wedding dress, do you?” He smirked, slyly. “I know it’s a human tradition, but why can’t I follow it too?”

He was right of course, he’d been incredibly respectful about your wedding dress and preferences when it came it. He was also very generous, giving you a large sum of gold to actually buy said wedding dress, “all I want is for you to be happy!” he’d said as he’d handed, three, four, five, six pouches of gold into the dressmakers hands.

The Fae Lord had given you a smile and whispered to you as he left the room, “let’s make our wedding the topic of the century!”

Although you chuckled at his words, you didn’t want to outshine the King and Queen. It would be an insult to the both of them, given that the Queen had been the one who had allowed you to become her Lady in Waiting. Without her, you wouldn’t have met the Fae Lord.

So, you decided to keep your dress modest, but elegant. It followed the traditional white, but had elements of the Fae world you would be marrying into. Little details of moss, spider web glittering on the train of your dress, while you had a golden, wreath as your tiara.

On the day of the wedding everything went smoothly.

As you started your walk down the aisle – with your father at your side, “I’m very happy you caught the eye of this Fae fellow, he’s a good time.” He had whispered as you prepared for your walk – you caught sight of your family crying tears of joy.

Your Fiance, at the other end of the aisle, seemed to outshine you as the bride.

His suit was quite the marvel, and you now understood why he didn’t want you to see it.

The dark red fabric accompanied by a rose petal cloak, contrasted with his white hair, that fell down his back, and over his shoulders like sheets of snow; He looked incredible.

After vows – with many tears – and the sealing of your union with a kiss, the whole room erupted with cheers and claps.

The reception afterwards was beautifully bright and colourful, with Fae and Humans dancing together as you and your husband sat and watched from behind the head table.

The Orc Lady’s son – who had grown surprisingly fast – was happy to be there, surrounded by people who doted on him as if he was the main celebrant of the reception.

Your Fae Lord Husband didn’t leave your side the whole night, dancing with you and bringing back the memories of when you first properly met.

The days following were hazy. You seemed to be barely lucid in that time, thanks to all the alcohol present, alongside your husband who – you had found out that night – was a clingy, emotional drunk.

“At first,” he had slurred at the reception, “I was a little worried about asking you, like,” he stared at you, his huge black eyes consuming your gaze. “You’re so beautiful and, I’m just some mud Fae,” he gestured to himself. “Who am I to ask someone like you to dance?”

You had rolled your eyes and pulled him into your arms, silencing his self-deprecating words. “No, don’t say that.” You had slurred back, “I’d have accepted even if you were a toad!”

But once the drunkenness had cleared, you’d found that you were feeling a lot more sickly than usual.

At first, you thought it was just the remainder of the alcohol finding it’s way out of your system. But when it didn’t go away after a month, you went to go and seek a physician.

And after a few tests, she confirmed to you what you had suspected: you were pregnant.

The Fae Lord was over the moon when he found out and excitedly told anyone who would listen about your pregnancy.

And now in the present, as you watched your husband natter to anyone who would listen about the names he’d thought of for your baby, you realised that you had never felt more content.

This was better than any fairy tale or romance novel that you’d ever read.

You occasionally thought about the King’s Guard, and how he was doing. But that never lasted long, as you were often pulled back into the present moment by your husband.

Who loved and cherished you more than that Orc ever could.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled on my £2 tier so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[studiogrimm810]

Awakening Flames

pairings/characters: (pining) sam winchester x gn!you

summary: the smoke, the fire... it brings back memories of jess and awakens feelings in sam that you didn't even think he had for you to begin with

warnings: house fire, smoke inhalation, mentions of blood, metions of ptsd

word count: 3,619

A/N: goddamn, that picture of sam breaks my fucking heart

———————

Sam has always been protective, gentle, and admittedly a little clingy when it came to you, but you knew that with such a troubled past, it made sense. And it never created any real problems. Sure, he can be a little overbearing during hunts or a little obsessive when it comes to you being alone with even a whiff of danger in the air, but you just know it’s because he cares about you. And you also know that deep down, you can be the same way.

Although, in all of your years of hunting together you have never seen him panic like he had tonight. You have absolutely no clue what wire snapped in Sam’s mind that made him act like this. The two of you have been on plenty of hunts, fought dozens of different creatures and even had your fair share of close calls. It didn’t make sense why he was freaking out now.

It was routine, classic even. For the past week or so, you and Sam had been tracking a couple of demons wreaking havoc on towns along a stretch of highway in southern Illinois and you had finally cornered them hiding out in an abandoned apartment complex.

It was a tough fight at first but eventually the demons dropped like flies and it was left to one last poor possessed woman. You were close, so you tackled her, wrestling her to the floor and swinging your angel blade wildly in an attempt to slice any exposed skin.

But once Sam made it back into the living room with you and the last demon, it had already been done.

The demon had flipped you over, straddling you. She knocked the blade out of your hand and dashed out of the open doorway closer to the two of you, knocking over a bottle of whiskey in the process. The crash of the bottle mixed with an even sharper shatter of glass in the other room due to the demon's quick escape. The bottle, of course, landed right next to the lit fireplace and flames quickly crawled past the iron platter that the logs rested on. It spat out harsh heat that quickly climbed the rotted curtains next to the fireplace.

It all happened so fast, and now half of the room was swallowed in red and orange flames by the time you can get to your feet. The smoke clouds the room and you can hear Sam calling for you. You spin to find him on the other side of the room at the other doorway that opens into the hallway that leads out of the apartment. Outside. Where you need to be right the fuck now.

You cough and crouch down to try and escape some of the smoke. Sam calls your name again, “stay low! Hold on, I-I’ll get to you, just-,” he flicks back and forth, looking for anything to help him.

“Sam, go! I’ll find my way out,” you cough, turning to find out where the demon escaped from.

“No! No, don’t-,” Sam begs, his voice cracking in the process. You turn back to look at him and can see beautiful drips of flames falling up towards the ceiling, illuminating his face. He looks terrified. Because, what you don’t know, is what he sees is your face exactly like you see his. Exactly like Jess.

All you knew about Jess was that she was Sam’s college girlfriend who died at the hands of Azazel.

The smoke fills Sam’s nostrils and the heat pushes him mentally back onto the plush cushion of his once shared bed. His mind rings with ‘please’s’ and ‘no, not again’s’. He’s completely panicked and irrational and he doesn’t know how to save you.

He never knows how to save them.

Jess.

Madison.

You.

And you don’t know what’s even going on in his mind enough to level with him, because from here he still just looks rabid with fear.

“Sam, you have to trust me,” you cough, trying to ignore the burn in your lungs. You take a few steps back to see that your only doorway leads to a kitchen with a broken window and, if you’re lucky enough, a fire escape. “Go downstairs and around back, I’ll have to jump,” another series of nasty coughs falling past your lips seems to snap him out of his funk just enough to listen.

“I’ll be there,” he nods, his feet moving before his mind catches up with him and he has to tear away his eyes from yours.

Now you can just focus on getting out of here. The smoke has started to make you dizzy but you promised Sam. The kitchen was a mossy mess, a little slippery but enough organic matter to really kick this fire up a notch. You have to hurry. You make it to the window, ignoring the left over shards of glass stuck in the pane because the fire is only getting hungrier.

It’s a two story drop below but with no ladder or help to get down because apparently, luck is rarely on your side. Sam rounds the corner as soon as you fully access your severely fucked situation. He knows it too.

But you promised.

You have to jump, it’s all that’s left. Sam stands right under the window, his arms raised and his eyes still irrational, “I’ll catch you,” he nods, encouraging you to evacuate. The fire has claimed the first half of the kitchen already and your silhouette is lit up like a halo by the orange flames. Sam’s heart is racing in his chest, making each second feel like an eternity.

“Sam-,” you start to argue but he barks back.

“No! Just jump, now!” He demands, using a voice he’s never used on you before and honestly it makes your stomach flip at the authority. You let your brain just turn off so you can listen to his instructions thoughtlessly. You climb over the pane, holding onto the splintery wood and trying to avoid any loose shards of glass.

“Fuck,” you whisper after positioning yourself just right. You let go, your organs delayed with your body causing the worst roller coaster feeling to bubble about your stomach. You land into Sam, tumbling you both to the soft grass beneath you with a forced grunt. His hands quickly wrap around your form the second you hit into his chest and he makes a point to take the full impact of the fall. He swallows the grunt that threatens to erupt into a low whine of pain.

You quickly roll off over top of him to allow him to take full breaths because you heard the air get knocked out of him but his grip doesn’t leave your waist even with half of your body off of him. You still manage to sit up, having a coughing fit trying to catch your lungs up with your racing heart.

Sam sits up, a bit dazed but the adrenaline of almost losing you like that powered him like a sedan engine full of diesel, it was enough to damage him as he forced himself to keep pushing his limits.

“Are you okay?” His hands reach out, cupping your face to make you look at him. You try to resist the grip so that you don’t cough in his face but he doesn’t seem to care about that. As you now get a good look at his face you see a glossy well of tears about to spill from his eyes and your heart melts with aching empathy.

“I-I’m fine,” your voice is rough and aching, but you force out the words in hopes to bring him down just a bit. He looks you over, pushing hair out of your face and checking any exposed skin for burn marks.

“Your hands,” he breathes out, holding your palms up so he can inspect them closer. As you look down at them, only then does the stinging pain register. When you lept from the window, apparently you weren’t as careful with the pane as you thought. Both palms are scratched up and bleeding, speckled with a few loose pieces of glass or wood. He doesn’t have the supplies on him now to help, just now remembering the duffle he brought along for the hunt is gone, swallowed by the burning lake inside.

He looks at the window that you jumped out of and then back down at you, pushing out a shaken breath, “okay, I need to get you out of here, back to the motel and I can get you cleaned up.” He nods, his gaze fixed on your palms again. Before you have time to respond, he’s standing and pulling you up with him, keeping a firm hold on your waist as he leads you back to the Impala. He helps you get settled in the passenger seat and hurries to the other side, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

“Sam,” you start as he climbs into the driver's side and ignites the engine.

“Are you sure you didn’t get burnt? That was a bad fall. Your clothes are singed, you need fresh clothes,” he rattles off, speeding back into the direction of the motel.

“Sam!” You try again, louder this time and it causes a fresh line of sickening coughs. You hunch over in your lap, holding your chest and trying to settle your breathing but the thick smoke that invaded your nose has stuck along your throat and trickled into your lungs. It burns.

“Hey, hey-, you with me?” He asks, torn between pulling over or continuing his race to get you as far away from the growing cloud of smoke. You only continue coughing in response and he jerks the car to the side of the road so that he can give you his full attention. He just can’t help himself.

He puts the car in park and jumps out, rounding the vehicle to open your own door so you can get some fresh air that he hopes to god will help. The strangled coughs interrupted by the weak wheezing of each breath you took constricted his chest, almost replicating a singe in his own lungs. Almost.

“Okay, just let it out, focus on your breathing, you’ll be okay,” he helps you turn your body so your legs are out of the Impala and he pushes back some more of your hair. After a few more deep coughs that rattle your throat, you're able to take fuller breaths that are noticeably satisfying now. “Better?” He asks, his hand on your thigh, closer than he would usually get but you can’t seem to mind.

You just nod, not wanting to risk speaking again and letting it be followed by a string of more nasty coughs that edge Sam closer and closer to an early grave. You still can’t put together why he got so freaked.

“Good, now I really want to get you back to the motel so I can clean up those hands,” he looks back down at your blood-slick palms. You just nod again.

After getting back on the road, and going just 10 over the speed limit this time, Sam called in the fire to local authorities and slid his phone back in his pocket. By now, it wasn’t too far from the motel and you could already see the neon lights.

Sam slows down to make a safe, but still a bit jerky, turn into the motel parking lot and puts her in park. You’d reckon Dean would be at Sam’s throat for how he’s treating his baby. Or maybe Dean would be better than you and actually put two and two together as to why he’s so damn jumpy.

Sam ushers you towards the room you booked a few hours ago and leads you to the bed, resting you gently on the edge.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam’s eyes take in any detail of your face that he can in a desperate attempt to settle his nerves a bit, but he just cannot seem to calm down. With a weighted breath, he stands and goes back out to the Impala to get the necessities for post-hunt clean up.

You just try to catch up with the past 20 minutes of your life.

But before you can, Sam is already pulling up a chair to sit across from you as he gently takes one of your hands to examine again.

“None of the cuts are too deep, won’t even need stitches,” a quick smile perks his lips as he lets out a puff of air that you're convinced still contained some smoke from that fire from how tense he’s been. You watch him as his pinched brows frame such worry struck eyes. You can’t emphasize enough just how weird this is. “Should probably run them under water,” he looks up at you before helping you over to the bathroom sink to do so.

You don’t need more help walking but, Jesus, you don’t have the heart to push him away.

He makes extra sure that the water is at an okay temperature before introducing it to your palms. And you still hiss when the water meets them, no matter it being too cool or too hot, it still stung like a bitch and made you instinctively lean away from the faucet. Sam brings over a hand towel to wet before using it to wash away any blood from the uninjured surfaces of your hands, cleaning up all that he can so as to reduce your discomfort.

It’s quiet once he gets to work on removing the splinters and shards of glass, his hands steady as ever and his focus honed in on your palms. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He also gave you a glass of water to help with the dry burn in your throat, even making sure there was a straw so you wouldn’t have to pick up the glass. So thoughtful. You waited for your breathing to be easy enough for you to trust your speech before finally asking the question that itched the tip of your tongue.

“Sam?” You start, your voice still raspy and it aches as it rubs out of your vocal chords, but you push through. His head pops up and looks over your features to try and gauge what was wrong now because why else would you try to talk? His mind is still in panic-mode and he subconsciously readies solutions for worst case scenarios. “What happened back there?” You follow up before he can rush out another prod to how you’re doing or if something’s wrong.

His jaw clenches and he swallows whatever invisible mouthful he had and his eyes gloss over- not with tears this time but a momentary lack of focus. Like he’s thinking back to something. He looks back down at the hand which still has some shards in it but the tweezers don’t move. You would almost expect the gears turning in his head were about to supply you a fresh round of smoke to choke on, but then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Okay, that you weren’t expecting. Sure, maybe it felt like he was blowing it a tiny bit out of proportion, but it was still a life or death scenario, and his reaction was obviously triggered by something that he shouldn’t feel ashamed of. Your first thought was maybe it reminded him of his time in Hell. With Lucifer. The thought makes a tickle of bile rise up in your throat that starts to sting the already sore tissue.

“I just freaked.”

Under any other circumstance you would have laughed at his understatement. But the pain in his still unfocused, far away look stops the urge before you realize it was there in the first place.

“The fire?” It was the only thing you could think of, the only thing that was different from a usual hunt. He nods, eyes still unfocused. It really gave you nothing to go off of. You already figured it was the fire and you just wanted to know why.

He’s working his jaw, mulling over how exactly he wants to word this- if he even wants you to hear it in the first place. His shoulders slump and he sets aside the tweezers, running a hand down his face. The hand almost works like a magic trick- revealing the caught up toll that this night has taken on his mental state with one swift swipe.

“Jess,” he offers the name, just testing if his voice can keep from breaking. It doesn’t, but he keeps going anyway because he knows that he scared you and it makes him feel sick. Almost as sick as seeing fire frame your body like a mane. Almost as sick as the images of Jess that assaulted his closed lids when he tried to steady himself. Almost, but not quite, so he decides not to apologize again. “Dean ever tell you how our mom died?” Sam asks, not looking up to face you just yet.

Fuck. Of course.

“Oh,” you breathe out, remembering Dean mentioning that a demon set their childhood home ablaze, taking their mothers life with the fall.

“Jess died the same way. Azazel,” Sam continues, choosing his words carefully and selecting them out with proper timing so he doesn’t break too soon. “He pinned her to the ceiling-.”

What?

“And burned her alive above me.”

The fuck?

“Just like he did to our mom.”

Okay, those details were left out of Dean’s story altogether but you can’t really blame him for skipping them.

You’re speechless, unable to remember any words that you spent the last 30 some-odd years using. Of course he freaked out.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” and you are. Truly. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose a partner like that. You’ve lost people but never like that. Never so… just out of your reach.

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you like that too.”

That makes sense.

“I lost Jess, Madison, and I just couldn’t-,” he voice breaks and his head dips down as the words die just before his lips.

Wait, what? You really want this man to stop throwing curve balls and let you catch up to literally anything. But his words get you thinking. He was triggered by the flames, reminded of Jess’ death, but not just that, it was a fear of losing you. Comparing you to Jess and whoever this Madison was. What was he implying?

He sniffled before bringing his head back up, not looking at you just yet but you can tell that he’s trying to work up the nerve again. He hasn’t even realized his slip up, his choice of words that reveal deeper feelings that are buried under the fear that comes with this life and the effects it has on those you allow yourself to love.

“I just-, I thought I was going to lose you like I lost them and I freaked and I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally gets his eyes back up at yours, reddened and wet. He doesn’t apologize again like you thought he would and you’re thankful that he doesn’t feel ashamed enough to do it a second time.

“I get it,” you assure, holding his gaze with the swirling subconscious thought of his choice of wording just a few paces ago. Thoughts that get slammed to the front line of your thinking as his eyes dart down to your lips- not scanning for signs of discomfort, but just to your lips.

“You didn’t scare me,” you shake your head, watching him as he watches you. Locked in this tunnel vision hooked between the two of you, growing shorter and shorter without either of you realizing it.

“I just need you to be okay.” He whimpers the words like a prayer. Like you’re the only being who can grant him his wish if he’s needy enough. If he begs enough. 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you only need to whisper now, the heat of your words hitting his lips that are so close you could practically taste him. He swallows, holding just your eyes now, his own not dipping down to your lips or your hair or your neck. Even if the last one would rile you up enough to make a move.

“Okay,” he whispers back, still a raw echo of words that tug on your heart. You want to ask him why- why he chose that specific wording, why he panicked in such a way that exposed himself, why the tension between you couldn’t back hacked with a fucking butcher knife. But you don’t. You don’t say a word as he goes back to plucking the foreign objects from your palm. As much as you want to be reckless and spontaneous and just take what you want to be yours- you don’t.

You don’t because the look that stains his face is one of utter exhaustion- mental and physical. This night has wrecked him more than you know him to outwardly admit to anytime soon.

You don’t because this isn’t how he would want it, and you fear he will take it as an act of thankfulness or obligation on your part.

You don’t because the man in front of you deserves better. He deserves the memory of the two of you to not be a tainted bond of his PTSD but of a memorable connection built from the years of friendship and love he’s already given you.

He deserves your best, and you’re prepared to offer him just that when he’s ready.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[j6suke]

Hi, can I request a gojo x foreign reader?

You can make the reader feel high self-esteem because of the compliments they would receive.

I have noticed that Japanese people see foreign women with a curvy body even if foreign women say that in their country they are flat, the Japanese praise them for their physique, personality, beauty.

I have even heard testimonies from foreigners who have just flirted with couple where the person flirting asked their partner if they would look cute together and their partner responded they would also be with a foreigner.

That's all, thanks for reading me (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)

─୨ৎ── gojo x foreign reader ⟡ ݁₊ .

cw: one little horny implication at the end because im ovulating and its everyones problem

wc: 580ish

hi lovely anon!!! this is genius because gojo would be SO feral for a woman who doesn't exactly fit into beauty standards, and that's canon because I said so.

hope u like it!! <3

the people in japan always complimented and praised you so highly, so genuinely. in your home country, it was more common to hear neutral or backhanded 'compliments'.

you'd never quite gotten used to it. sure, it was great. the lingering stares, the frequent compliments on your physique, the adoration from children... it was all incredibly ego-boosting, and you found yourself feeling a little more confident by the day.

pre-moving to japan, friends and family had kindly taken the time to warn you about the japanese beauty standards and how they might make you feel a little alienated, considering how slender the typical japanese woman is. however, almost immediately you discovered that this was incorrect. since day one, people have literally tripped over themselves just to get a look at you.

japanese people, particularly the men, complimented you relentlessly. and somehow, it was never in a way that made you feel objectified. It was gentle, respectful, and sincere.

you'd met satoru gojo not long after arriving in japan, for work purposes, and had become pretty close comrades. he was nothing short of charming, and not to mention very handsome. even despite being considered incredibly gorgeous yourself, your confidence faltered in his presence.

one afternoon, as you were sitting across from gojo in your headquarters attending to some work. well- you were working. he was watching you.

he raised an eyebrow at you with that signature smirk of his.

you met his eyes and blinked before plainly asking, "what?"

"you." he answered, pushing his glasses ontop of his head, eyes staring straight through you.

you raised an eyebrow at him and shook your head, returning to whatever it was you were doing. gojo was almost always flirty towards you in some shape or form, you'd grown accustomed to it by now.

"hey! don't ignore me! im being serious. you don't give yourself enough credit.. you're like, this perfect being. an angel sent straight from heaven."

and when you look at him with utter confusion, his jaw goes slack, and his eyes widen in disbelief, he looked as if you had just broken his heart.

“oh my god,” he breathed, his voice low and almost reverent. “you really have no idea, do you?”

before you could even process his words, he pulled up a chair beside you, moving in closer until your faces were mere inches apart. you could feel the warmth of his body and the faint scent of his cologne that was quickly filling the air between you. your face immediately flushed hot, and you instinctively leaned back, but he wasn’t about to let you get away.

his voice softened, laced with sincerity. “listen, doll. you’ve got this beauty that’s rare. genuine beauty. It’s not the kind that can be bought or manufactured. It’s the kind that’s just... you. and I, for one, think that its the most gorgeous thing.”

his intense gaze shifted from your eyes down to your figure, his smirk returning as he looked you over with a profound appreciation that had your heart doing backflips.

"and you, baby," he leaned back and gave you his signature wink, "are insatiable."

gojo stands up, his hands rushing into his pockets suspiciously fast, and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

as the door clicked shut behind him, you realise that from now on, no other compliment any other man is inevitably going to give you will have an effect on you.

[milessunflowers]

Basically reader is head strategist for Mercedes and personally taylor made the strategies for nico and lewis but their fighting is disrupting the statistics even though he's trying to give them the best he can, reader is deeply in love with his bestfriends but neither lewis or nico seem to notice admits their friendship turned almost relationship turned bitter rivalry, its the year before nico wins his championship and its announced that reader is moving to another team (redbull maybe? Or ferrari so its angstyer when lewis moves there) anyway fast foward through out the year its been a grueling battle to win between lewis and nico that nico realizes that they haven't talked to reader since half way into last years season when nico finds out that reader moved teams he's rocked with devastation, anger, grief and a realization that he and lewis are the reason you don't talk to them anymore nico tries to tell lewis but he's just like 'so what? I'm still going to win' and nico stares at him in astonishment not recognizing his former bestfriend and would be lover, flash over to after nico wins the championship he announces he's going to retire before trying to contact reader which reader ignores for six months (lewis is ignoring the lonely feeling in his chest) before he picks up the phone and before nico can talk starts to rant about how reader just wants them to leave him alone that while he loves them and that while he tried to forget his feelings for them he can't but he can no longer be involved in their petty fued, Nico apologizes saying that he's retired and wants to make amends, we then flash foward to the year before lewis wins his seventh win, lewis has seen reader around the paddock but hasn't been able to get him to talk with him lewis has also seen the way nico has cozied up to reader (reader and nico are in a relationship, not that anyone knows that) anyway lewis tries to be friends with reader again (and Definitely more) but reader avoids him which leads him to talking to nico and Reconciling with him first and then with reader (all three of them just having these dinners at restaurants so they could have the closeness they had when they were younger) it takes lewis till 2023 (3 years basically since he won his 7th in 2020) when max wins another championship to both figure out nico and reader are in a relationship (got together 2018) and to realize he's pining for them both (again) cue awkward lewis being given advice from george, who directs him too lando, on advice on how to ask two people who are in a relatioship out (some side george x alex x lando or maybe oscar x lily x lando) anyway lewis asks nico and reader out in winter break where their caught by the media, before that though reader explains to lewis that before he fixed their friendship reader was really hurt that they would put racing over each others lives and that while reader and nico love lewis he needs to promise to that he won't put racing above their relationship and that after 2025 he'll retire wether he wins the championship or not, lewis agrees quickly afraid they'll take it back saying that he felt it was going to be his last year anyway, it ends with lewis winning 2025 and kissing both nico and reader after the last race and announcing he's going to retire.

Holy shite i got really into that, i'm so very sorry, if its too long please just say so.

–🍑

peach i am in awe. this is just, holy fuck

lewis hamilton x race strategist!male!reader x nico rosburg

synopsis: it took them too long to realize how badly they messed up. good thing you are forgiving.

author's note: holy cow this got really long but peach, the details, all of it, was just amazing. you're so creative 🫶🏻 i am living for all this. i did slightly change somethings, i hope you dont mind! feel free to keep requesting!!!

it started out well

like really well

your strategies worked amazing, the boys were performing well

then it went to shit like most things

they started this bitter rivalry that made little to no sense to you

for a while, you thought it was your fault

maybe your stats and strategies weren't right

maybe you weren't doing good with you job

you thought that up until ferrari offered you a job as head strategist

thats when you knew it wasn't entirely your fault

you took the offer proudly

thats when it hit nico how much they took you for granted

you thrived in ferrari while nico and lewis were still fighting with each other

you distanced yourself from that and instead focused on your new job, where you were surpringly happy

like happier than you had been at mercedes (even if lewis and nico weren't there)

it took nico almost a full season to entirely realizes that him and lewis hadn't even attempted to talk to you since they team move

that hit him like a truck

he felt guilty, him and lewis both

they just show it in different ways

once nico finally wins his wdc, he is happy, just not as happy as he would've been if he were still close with you and lewis

he announced his retirement and almost immediately went to reconcile with you

he didn't want to keep things in deep shit with you

he missed you so so much

your smile, your laugh, just you in general

it started slowly with small talk over text before nico just finally apologized for absolutely everything, from essentially blaming you for his rivalry with lewis to ignoring you for almost a year

you apologized for ignoring him too and distancing

from then on, you guys talked every single day

day in and day out

every free minute you two had was spent talking and hanging out

slowly, you guys admit how long you have loved each other for a long time

then boom, you guys got together

but you kept it a secret as you wanted a quiet (or as quiet as possible) life

you still worked hard on strategies

nico was amazing at reporting

you guys were happy together

skip forward a good few years and lewis is so close to winning his seventh wdc

he finally seems to notice the small signs that you and nico were together

that empty feeling returned

he was missing a part of himself without the two of you

he slowly starts to piece together the big puzzle

first with how you and nico seemed to gave been a thing for a while

then how much he missed you guys

then the deep rooted feelings he pushed aside for far to long

then the realization of just how much he need the two of you in his life

he immediately started building up this huge, elaborate, straight from the heart, apology speech he would tell you when he got you guys alone

he already had a plan set in his mind

then he realizes he actually has zero fucking clue what the hell to do

so he goes to the only person he knows that knows anything about this type of situation: george mother fucking russell

of course, george's situation is a little different

he started dating alex first then they basically accidentally added logan into the mix

but the three seemed to be happier than the majority of the people he knew

so he had to take a shot at asking him

turns out, george gives pretty decent advise

so, before going on the date, he needed to patch things up between the three of you

george's words not his

but that's what he does

he convinces both you and nico to talk with him (even brings roscoe because who doesn't love the little chunky monkey?)

you each take turns explaining how you felt

you kick started it by talking about how hurt you had been, not only as a strategist but also they're friend; how you felt like you were to blame for everything; how you didn't feel like they wanted you around anymore

nico already knew all this stuff but he still felt incredibly guilty

imagine how lewis felt

then nico explains how isolated it felt, losing the two people he loved more than anything; how he was so focused on winning that he forgot what was important

for once in years, him and lewis were on the same page

after hours of apologies, catching up, and eventually confessions, things were back to how they used to be years ago

skip to the winter break where you felt like you guys no longer had to hide

you were caught by fans at a restaurant, sharing laughs and some kisses before leaving back to the car, huge grins plastered across your faces

these pictures are posted everywhere

no one is surprised though

ferrari had to have some words with you about pr, same with mercedes for lewis and then sky sports for nico

once again, yall didn't care

skip forward again to lewis announcing he is gonna race for ferrari

bro didn't even tell you and nico

he was just like: "oh by the way-"

you were excited

but you made a deal between the three of you that you would retire and lewis would, regardless of the outcome of the season

the season went well, not exactly how you wanted it but still good enough

your retirement set for the end of the season was announced pretty early on

lewis's was very nico core

just dropped the bomb after the last race

where he just so happened to both you and nico in public

even though he had done it tons of times before

it was still surprising though

suck on that fia

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[teine-mallaichte]

Storm 'Rook' HAwke is the son of Anders and Autumn Hawke (one of my OCs) so he has actually met some of the previous protags and companions 😂 right, let's og a game at a time.

Origins:

HOF warden Aimil…. she would get frustrated by his impatience to be honest… she wouldn't dislike him, but I Don;t think she's recruit him either.

Alister… this could be a disaster, mainly as I have just realised they are worryingly similar in some ways. I think Aimil would try to keep them apart to avoid a disaster…

Morrigan… I think Storm would find her fascinating, but also not trust her, not even a little bit. She would probably find him irritating.

Leliana… she would appreciate Storms passion, but find his quick temper and occasional impatience an issue. I can she her trying to subtly lecture him without lecturing - if that makes sense.

Shale… I think they would both confuse each other to be honest. They'd be civil, but not exactly friends.

Wayne… she's adopt him, and Storm would hate it. I think he would quickly start to feel that everything he does disappoints her, and as he has secret insecurity issues already this would be an issue.

Oghren... this could go either way I think. They both have a bit of a rebellious streak, but in very different ways. I think they would be good drinking buddies, but there is potential for them both to run the other the wrong way - especially if Oghren found out about Storm's fear of Hurlocks as I can see him either flat out insulting STorm about it, or doing a teasing banter that Storm takes the wrong way.

Sten… Storm would feel judged, and Sten would be judging.

Zevren… Chaos. This would be chaos. Storm wants to be Zev, Zev find it amusing. They cause chaos together.

DA2:

Hawke (Autumn)… well she's his mum, so… They get on to a degree, but there's a part of him that kind of feels stuck in her shadow, they clash at times, but deep down, Storm respects her more than he admits.

Anders… storm has a complicated relationship with Anders, a bit of a personality clash unfortunately that got worse as Storm got older, and then their relationship almost fractured entirely when Storm became a Grey Warden. They are still civil, but their relationship is definitely strained.

Varric… Storm was close with Uncle Varric growing up, he loved it when Varric wrote letters about his 'adventures' (hunting for Solas mainly, but you know, to a kid that sounds like an adventure) and loved it when Varric occasionally visited.

Merril… Storm has never actually met Merrill (yet) but she wrote to the Hawke's regularly when he was a kid and regularly sent packages of her homemade teas. Asher Storms magic manifested and it became clear that he couldn't heal she also started to see recipes for different healing potions and salves, a lot of his interest in herbology actually Congress from her influence. I think they'd get in fairly well, he might have issue with the v blood magic - because both autumn and Anders had issues with that and have likely given him a slightly biased impression of the topic, but I think he'd get past it fairly fast.

Fenris… Storm has met Fenris only once, and as he was a toddler at the time he can't remember him. He was also in touch a lot less than his parents other friends. If (when) they met now they would likely clash at first, but there's potential there for them to get on.

Isabella… Storm has a lot of memories of getting into mischief with Aunt Bela as a kid, but he's not seen her since he was 15.

Aveline… Oh that would probably not be great. I think Storm might remind Aveline too much of his parents worst (in her opinion) qualities.

Sebastian… Let's hope they don't meet, being Anders kid I'm not sure it would go well.

Justic/Vengeance: as storms 'thire parent' they need a mention 😅. Storm and Justice get on fairly well, in part because Justice regularly takes Storms side in arguments with his parents - Storm may have learnt early how to manipulate the spirit.

Inquisition:

I'll be honest, this is the group I'm least familiar with…

Iquisitor Ceitidh… their sarcasm would make them get along well, but Storm's quick temper might create tension at times. I feel Ceitidh would be frustrated with him and maybe find him reckless.

Cullen… Storm and Cullen would definitely clash. Cullen's strict idealism and disciplined approach to things would probably frustrate Storm's more impulsive, “act now” tendencies. They'd have moments where they'd disagree on how to handle situations, and Storm would likely feel like Cullen is treating him like a kid at times.

Vivienne… Storm would find Vivienne’s confidence and intelligence admirable but also frustrating. She embodies tradition and order, which would likely rub Storm the wrong way.

Josephine… Josephine would likely find Storm's impatience frustrating, but she would also respect his passion and desire to do the right thing. Like Leliana I think she's try to gently steer Storm, which he'd resent if he realised.

Dorian… Storm would likely get along with Dorian. I think they would have some interesting banter, but Dorian might find Storms impatient frustrating at times.

Cole… Well Storm is fairly used to spirits, but compassion is very different to Justice/Vengeance. I think Storm might find Coles more cryptic nature confusing, but he'd also probably try to engage with him a lot.

Sera… Storm and Sera would probably get along pretty well. Both have a rebellious nature, and they’d likely bond over their shared dislike of authority and tradition. However, Storm might find Sera’s bluntness a bit abrasive at times. Sera, on the other hand, might find Storm’s more restrained approach a bit too serious for her tastes.

Cassandra… Storm is not a fan of authority. I think Cassandra would probably be one of the more difficult relationships. Also… Well his father is Anders 🤷 .

The Iron Bull… Storm and Iron Bull would probably get along well on a surface level, but there could be issues if they ever attempted to have a note in-depth discussion or actually tried to work together.

Solas… Storm and Solas would definitely clash.

Hey! It’s Friday! That means it’s Rook Intro Hour <3

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Question(s): Let’s do something special, today, to celebrate DA. What would your Rook think of your other DA protagonists? How about the other companions? Is there anyone they would particularly like or dislike? Why? What would the other protagonists/companions think of Rook?

Answer as much or as little as you like. Hope you’re well <3

[stellamarielu]

show me

john mitchell x female reader

summary: bloodlust and sexual desire have become one in the same to mitchell making it increasingly difficult to have a normal relationship. so when you find yourself frustrated by the lack of physical intimacy, he figures out a way to solve the problem

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of death, a little bit of angst, a sprinkle of fluff, a shit ton of dirty talk, mutual masturbation [kinda], basically mitchell just wants to watch you get off, fingering, squirting? [lord forgive me]

authors note: first mitchell fic let’s go!! so, I wanted to start with something more tame for mitchell since it was my first time writing for his character, but i did no such thing. this is just full speed no brakes very smutty so if that’s not your jam just keep scrolling! there is some fluff and a little bit of angst but other than that it's just filth

-

It had been nearly a month since you learned the truth about Mitchell. What started as innocent interactions and flirtatious jokes turned into the two of you regularly going for drinks at the local pub. Before you knew it, your casual little dates led to you joining him and his roommates for movie nights at their home which always ended with you both cuddled up next to each other on the couch. 

Mitchell tried not to let you into his complicated life but failed miserably after the first time he felt that warm fuzzy sensation in his chest when he saw you. You had him wrapped around your finger in a way no one ever had, so much so that he started referring to you as his girlfriend, which of course made George and Annie annoyingly giddy. They absolutely adored you and thought you’d be good for Mitchell, someone to motivate him– to ground him. It all happened so quickly but you couldn’t help it, neither of you could. You were completely infatuated with one another; it was almost sickening. 

But of course, along with the fresh adoration of a new partner also came their baggage. It was something you expected. What you weren’t expecting however, were the skeletons in Mitchell’s closet to be so literal.

He had gone back and forth about telling you the truth and of course Annie had convinced him to be honest with you.

“If your feelings for her are real and you want a genuine relationship you have to tell her Mitchell.” 

He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop the anxiety weighing on his chest at the thought of rejection. It was terrifying. The possibility that you would run screaming kept him putting it off day after day until one night the two of you were having dinner at your apartment and it just kind of stumbled out of his mouth. 

“A Vampire?” 

The words slipped from you in a giggle, your face full of amusement at his confession. You figured he must’ve been trying to make some kind of stupid joke until you noticed his dead serious demeanor.

When he refused to meet your tickled expression with a smile of his own, your brain started running laps around itself trying to piece together the last few weeks of your life. Confusion and fear filled your senses and for a split second it felt like you were sitting across from a complete stranger. Despite your inner dialogue telling you to run, you didn’t leave. You didn’t even get up from your seat. You just sat and waited for him to explain himself further. 

So he did. He told you everything.

It took hours of explanations from him and hesitant stares from you, but after a night of discussing his condition you were sure he was telling the truth, and you were also somehow open to it. 

Mitchell was surprised by how understanding you had been about the whole thing. After the initial shock, the two of you laid on your couch until the sun came up and you interrogated him about his supernatural lifestyle.

he answered every last question. 

You learned about the different cities he’d lived in, the people he had known throughout his long life, who he once was, who he still longed to become. You admired his desire to live differently than the others like him. 

Even after listening to the man next to you give hour’s worth of evidence proving he was a bloodthirsty killer, you still managed to fall asleep in his arms. At the end of the day, it was still Mitchell; Mitchell who mopped floors and made crude jokes, Mitchell who was always there to give you a comforting smile or lighthearted wink when you were having a rough day, Mitchell who you had fallen head over heels for, Mitchell who wanted to be human so badly that he was attempting sobriety from the very thing his body craved most. Nothing could change the way you felt for him and so you held it together when he told you a secret about himself that he was sure would have your relationship unraveling.  

Only he didn’t tell you everything. There was one little detail about his life that he left out that night. He told you about the countless people he killed– about the guilt that ate away at him as he remembered their faces. He even confessed to you that he had given in to his bloodlust not long before you met. All the grim details about his murderous tendencies were true, but he made sure to leave out the part about how he killed them. 

You knew that he drank away their lives, that he consumed their blood until there was nothing left of them. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that it so often started by seducing a woman- getting her naked in bed, writhing and vulnerable underneath him. He hated that he’d weaponized sex for so long that he could no longer differentiate his longing for blood and his desire for sexual release– the two had become synonymous. It was so bad that anytime he found himself in a heated position with a woman he couldn’t tell if the passion he felt burning in his veins was actual yearning or just a desire to feed. This made his relationship with you extraordinarily difficult. 

You were so handsy. Of course you were. The two of you had been dating for nearly three months and the furthest you’d gone was a clothed second base. 

At first, Mitchell told you he wanted to take things slow, a little odd maybe, but you respected his boundaries and kept the physical touch to a minimum. But time went on, and the restraint you had both practiced began to falter. You started getting little tastes of what it would be like to have his hands on your body and his mouth on your skin it was driving you insane. Every time he kissed you, his lips lingered on yours and there was a certain hint of impatience that always peeked through. You could sense the hunger in the way he would crash his lips on you, his mouth molding to yours and his tongue tracing your bottom lip. Sometimes he would even let his hands find your hips gripping you tightly and pulling you into him as close as possible. Not to mention the little groans that would slip from him when you tugged on his hair. Those little grunts made you want to drop to your knees in front of him and see what other sounds you could pull from his mouth. 

You were constantly reminding yourself to take things slowly, but it was so hard when there was such a strong sexual tension tying the two of you together– or at least you thought there was; but based on the way Mitchell would break your kisses and take his hands off of your body like he just burned them on a stovetop, you were beginning to think maybe he wasn’t craving you in the same way.

Only there was no doubt in his mind that Mitchell wanted to fuck you. He was obsessed with you. He thought about what you looked like naked at least once a day and dreamed about hearing the little whimpers that you’d make when he was finally able to get between your legs. he wanted you, but he was terrified of possibly putting you in danger, so he tried to keep his hands to himself, Just for a little bit. 

At least that’s what he told himself at the beginning. He would work his way up to having sex with you. Like little practice runs, he would let himself give in to the temptation, a make out session here and there, maybe even some heavy petting- but he would always put an end to it before it went any further.

He had to pace himself with you. He needed to be able to control the blood driven part of him that had most of his hookups ending in red stained sheets. You deserved the best part of him. The part that he was convinced was still human. The part that could take his time and indulge in the intimacy of knowing another’s naked body. He knew that part of him still existed- he knew because you brought it out of him. With every touch of your hand to his cheek or the feeling of your sweet lips on his, he felt it. Hell, even when you had your fingers intertwined in his hair, pulling at it while you attacked his neck with kisses, he could feel a deep appreciation for the way you loved him. It was an innocent kind of love. It was pure and gentle and all-consuming and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by pushing things too far. He wouldn’t ruin this- ruin you. 

But then you were straddling him on his bed. Your legs spread on either side of his hips as he grabbed onto you, guiding your movements as you slid your fully clothed center over his, your lips meshing in a messy kiss.

The house was empty other than the two of you who were now involved in a very heated make out session in his bedroom. His hands were splayed across your thighs, holding them hungrily and his mouth chasing yours. Neither of you were showing any intentions of holding back, so you took it upon yourself to take things a bit further. 

You let your hands fall to the button of his jeans–undiscovered territory that you were determined to explore at the feeling of his obvious arousal beneath you. Just as you were fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, Mitchell broke your kiss and took a hold of your wrist in an abrupt attempt to stop you. 

You looked down at him, trying your best to hide the defeat you felt from yet another rejection. His eyes looked almost remorseful before he averted his gaze downward to where your hands met, he was tracing little circles on your wrist. 

You were out of breath, chest heaving, and thoughts jumbled. You were trying not to read into it, but this whole situation was so confusing to you. Was there something you didn’t know? He seemed to be enjoying himself just moments ago; so why was he stopping? Did he ever intend to have sex with you? 

“Mitchell, are you attracted to me?” The words flew out of your mouth as you leaned back, still sitting on his lap. 

“What?” 

His expression was a mixture of confusion and amusement which only frustrated you further because what on earth did he have to be confused about? 

“Seriously. I get it if you want to take it slow, but It’s been weeks and I’m starting to get scared that you don’t actually want to have sex with me.” 

He was watching as you spoke, a small smile curling on his lips. He couldn’t help it; you were so cute and flustered sitting on top of him talking about how badly you wanted to have sex. How could he not be attracted to you? How could you think something so utterly insane? 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You were questioning him and teasingly shoving at his chest so that his back sunk further into the mattress beneath him. The only response coming from the man laying under you was a low chuckle. 

“Mitchell, talk to me.” Your voice softened.

You were serious now; Mitchell could hear it in your worried tone and see it in the unsure gaze holding his own. 

He sat up with an audible sigh and you took that as a sign things were taking a more serious turn. 

You carefully moved off his lap, opting for a seat next to him and plopping down on the bed. You sat facing him with your legs folded underneath you and your hand gently resting on his thigh. 

Everything about you was inviting his awaiting admission; your body language, the gentle smile encouraging him to go on, the way your eyes fell on him in an already understanding gaze. You were too good for him– too kind. Here you were willing to accept every last part of him and he was getting ready to tell you he uses sex to aid his homicidal affinities. 

“I did want to take things slow- I do.” He started with his eyes glued on you.

”I just, I don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke slowly, still searching your eyes for any changes to your expression.

“And you’ll hurt me if we have sex?” You were trying to clarify and make sense of what Mitchell was saying.

“I used to-“ He began but stopped himself. 

He looked down at your hand on his leg. Your touch so sincere. 

“I used to use sex as a method of getting women alone and vulnerable so I could- you know...”

He was still staring down refusing to look at you as he spoke. He couldn’t stand to watch the inevitable look of fear on your face. 

“It was just so easy. The first time I had sex after I turned, it was such a rush. Everything was intensified; her heart rate, the blood rushing through her veins, how much control I had. I didn’t even realize what I was doing and then she was just...” 

His words were trailing off yet again, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. That he was a manipulative evil monster who prayed on women and got off on killing them.

 It wasn’t true though. That side of him was something else entirely. It was someone he didn’t even recognize when he was with you. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your delicate hands cupping his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours. Instead of a look of terror, your face held nothing but forgiveness and warmth. 

“So you’re scared you’re going to kill me if we sleep together?” Your words were point blank as you stared into his eyes. 

“No.” His response was instant, but then quickly followed by a correction, 

“Well maybe. I don’t know, it’s complicated.” 

He paused.

“I never want to hurt you. I know that much.” 

The look in his eyes was so gentle, begging for the forgiveness you’d already given.

“There’s just this part of me that I can’t control, and I’m so scared that I’ll get too caught up and won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Have you ever had sex without-“ 

You began to ask but Mitchell finished your question for you.

“Killing someone?”

He looked away again, unable to come to terms with his own sinful memories.  

“Yeah, but it’s been a long time.” He confessed.

You leaned back on the bed creating a bit more space between your bodies. You had a million thoughts running through your mind but the only one that mattered was the realization of how much Mitchell had come to mean to you in such a short time. Everything felt right with him. You were immersed so deeply in his world that this new piece of information just felt like a little blip on the radar of your lives. You would figure it out together. All of it. 

“Well okay then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing until you feel ready.”

As soon as the words left your mouth his eyes were back on yours. He was giving you the most hopeful smile, it nearly melted you. God- you’d do anything for him. 

“And if you never do, then I’ll just invest in a really good vibrator.”

You were joking to help lighten the mood. You didn’t want Mitchell to feel like you were judging him or disappointed in the new information regarding your sex life. 

Your comment had Mitchell cracking a smile for the first time in last five minutes and the sight of it warmed your heart. You were both just sat there looking at each other with silly little grins plastered on your faces, the dark tension in the room slowly dissipating. 

The silence between you lasted for a few seconds, Mitchell looked as if he was contemplating something before he finally spoke.

“Is that how you’ve been surviving this whole time?” There was a hint of laughter dancing in his words.

“My sweet girl gettin’ so frustrated she has to run home to relieve herself?”

His head was now cocked to the side as he probed you with a follow up question. He was smirking, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. If he couldn’t see the goosebumps on your skin, he sure as hell could hear your heart racing. 

“I’m sorry baby, you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself like that.” 

Mitchell’s voice was low, and he was moving his body closer to yours. He was hovering over you as your back rested against the warmth of his comforter. The sound of your heartbeat was amplified in his ears by the sudden closeness. 

This was new, you thought. 

Mitchell had never been this bold with his words. It was so filthy– so tempting.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

His eyes were heavy and his jaw tense as he awaited your response.

You thought about him every single time you touched yourself, which was more often than you’d like to admit given the current circumstances of your relationship. You had come up with one hundred different scenarios that involved you and Mitchell naked in his bed to aid you in your self-induced pleasure. 

But instead of divulging all of that to him, you just nodded your head in a simple reply to his question. 

“Show me.” His voice was dripping with desire, and you thought his eyes might burn a hole through you with how hard he was staring. 

“Mitchell…” 

You suddenly felt so shy. Just minutes ago, you were grinding down on his lap hungry to unbutton his jeans. Now he was asking to watch you touch yourself and your confidence was wavering. 

“C’mon baby. I wanna see how you get off.” His tone was so sultry, you were nearly slipping your pants off at sound of it.  

“Let me see baby.” He was intertwining his fingers in your hair and pulling you in for another messy kiss. 

“Fuck- I think about it all the time. What it would be like to watch you cum.” His hands were now trailing down your body, his touch was more rough than usual, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

“I touch myself thinkin’ about you too baby.” His gaze was scorching, as he watched you fumbling with your jeans in such hasty desperation to get them off. 

“Always so worked up from not being able to touch you the way I want to. It drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Now he was assisting you; pulling your jeans down your thighs, just as needy to see your body freed from them. 

Mitchell’s hands instantly found the exposed skin of your thighs as soon as your jeans came off. He was basking in the feeling of your warm skin, memorizing the way you felt in his hands as he gripped and kneaded the flesh of your upper leg all the way up to your hips. 

You were pulling him back down in a frenzied kiss when you felt his hands at your sides teasing the material of your underwear. His fingers were hooked in the waistband of your panties, and you found the kiss getting sloppier the closer you got to being half naked on Mitchell’s bed. Your lips were moving in a chaotic harmony when he pulled back to speak again. 

“Is this okay?” 

It was as if he was breaking character for just a second. The dirty words of primal desire were replaced with a tender whisper. The man who was just ripping your jeans from your body was now searching your face for approval before going any further. 

“Mhmm.” You were humming and nodding your head simultaneously placing your hands over his on your hips and helping him peel your underwear from your body. 

“Jesus- fuck.”

Mitchell couldn’t help the profanities that fell from his mouth as you looked up at him with such an innocently sensual gaze while you guided his hands down your legs. You looked so desperate for him.  

You were kicking your panties from your legs and instinctively closing your thighs, partially for the friction but mostly due to the nerves of your sudden vulnerability.

 Mitchell could sense your brief hesitation and wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable. To tell you how fucking hot this was- because it was. He hadn’t had sex in so long he thought he might just cum in his pants from the sight of you like this. 

He kissed you once more, deep and passionate while his hands found their place back on your thighs. He was running his fingers over your skin and grabbing each of your legs slowly pulling them apart as he situated himself between them. Then he broke the kiss and sat back on his knees to get a better view at your body all sprawled out on his sheets. 

“Fuck you’re so perfect.” His voice was close to a groan as he gazed down at your exposed center. He was in a hypnotic state at seeing you spread open all for him, so wet and ready; he was losing his mind.

“I wanna see you baby.” 

His fingertips were tracing your inner thighs, and you almost had to shut your legs again at the sensation; his touch causing you to let out a shaky breath. 

“wanna see how you play with yourself when you think about me.” 

You were closing your eyes and letting your hand trail down your stomach until it reached your core. If it weren’t for the fact that you were so pent up with sexual frustration from all the nights you had to leave Mitchell’s house after make-out sessions that led nowhere, you might have been more embarrassed by how quick you were to oblige with his directions. You were eager to finally get some sort of relief from him, even if it came in the form of his eyes on your body and his foul whispers in your ear. 

Your fingers were circling your clit and the sounds that came from the man above you were utterly carnal. 

“fuckkk.”

In a long, drawn-out groan Mitchell was releasing pent up frustrations of his own while watching your hand between your legs. 

He had envisioned you like this a million times but not one of those images even came close to what he was witnessing right now. He’d intended on trying to keep his composure but as soon as your fingers met your cunt, he couldn’t contain himself. 

“That’s it baby.”

Mitchell swooned, his body practically shaking as he watched you. All he wanted to do was replace your hand with is. He wanted to feel you. Needed to show you that the little scenarios of him you had conjured up in your head weren’t even comparable to the real thing. 

“So pretty for me.”

His words were only pushing you further into the lust filled abyss that threatened to swallow you whole. Your fingers were working faster in tight little circles and moans were forming in your throat and fighting to fall from your lips. 

“Look at me baby.”

You followed his command, looking up at him. He was going back and forth between looking into your eyes and watching the hand between your legs. He felt the familiar simmer of heat in his chest and the buzzing in his head– sensations that often came with his inability to stop himself from indulging in his deepest desires. He was teetering on the edge of losing all control when he found your eyes again, your tender stare bringing him back to reality. 

“Do you wish it was me touchin’ you like that.” He kept talking, hoping it would help tether him to his humanity. 

The low growl of his voice had you feeling brave enough to bring your hand lower, dipping a finger into yourself and whimpering out in pleasure at the thought of it being his touch instead. 

“Bet I could make you feel so good with my fingers- fuck.” 

The second he saw your hand venture lower he could feel his cock swelling in his pants. There was absolutely no way he would be able to keep his hands to himself now. Not while he watched you slipping your delicate little fingers into your cunt- something he had quite literally dreamed of doing for months now. 

“Oh sweet girl I need to touch you.”

You watched as he palmed himself through his jeans, the look on his face was so needy it made you bite down on your lip to muffle the obscene sound that fought its way to your mouth. 

“need to fuckin’ feel ya baby.”

And with that his lips were crashing into yours, your chests touching and moans mixing. You felt his hand on your inner thigh and nearly jumped when it skipped to your soaked core, his finger already pushing into you. 

“So wet for me huh?.” He was gathering your arousal and spreading it at your opening as he easily added a second finger along with the first. 

His head dipped down and his lips came in contact with the nape of your neck and you flinched. 

Your earlier conversation was still fresh in your mind, and you couldn’t help the involuntary recoil. Having Mitchell so worked up and putting his mouth on your neck startled you.  

He halted, every single one of his movements pausing as he drew his head back just enough to lock eyes with you. He had every intention of kissing down your neck, just wanting to envelop you in the feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin. He wasn’t even thinking about sinking his teeth into the flesh there, but once he felt you shrinking away from his touch, he felt awful. Shit did he scare you.

“Hey.”

He was searching your eyes, his expression full of worry. 

“I won’t hurt you.” A flip had switched, and his voice was now soft and reserved. 

“You’re safe.” He was reassuring you and now you felt bad for overreacting. 

You pulled him back to you in an affectionate kiss. 

“I’ve got you, I promise.” With that he was slowly moving his fingers inside you again. His thrusts were gentle, and he kept his eyes on you. He was being so careful, it was endearing. 

He had never felt so in control. It was a strange feeling, to be physically intimate with someone and not have a single hunger driven thought. While he had plenty of unsavory thoughts about you running through his mind, not even one had to do with his thirst for blood. All of them centered around hearing the cute little sounds you were making and watching you cum all over his fingers. 

He could sense your body relaxing under his touch and he watched your eyes flutter closed as his fingers curled into you. He was taking advantage of your comfort and switching to a faster pace. 

You had to squeeze your eyes shut completely as his fingers worked faster and depper. You were doing your best to keep quiet, scared that maybe someone would come home and be able to hear you, but with the way Mitchell was touching you, you finally let go of your worries. A lengthy moan fell from your lips, and had him groaning in response. 

“That’s it baby, don’t hold back.” 

He was encouraging your noises of satisfaction as he brought his lips back to your neck. Only this time, instead of flinching from the sudden attention, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access. You could feel him smirking against your skin. 

He was placing sweet kisses behind your ear while his fingers worked harder sliding in and out of you. His movements were perfectly executed, each thrust of his digits curling into you at the perfect spot and causing whispered profanities to form on your tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it almost shocked you how close he had you to an orgasm already. 

“You feel that baby?” His voice was a mumble against the crook of your neck.

You were whining out a pathetic “yes” as he kept his pace, not holding back. You could feel your release building higher and higher, Mitchell’s fingers getting deeper alongside it. The exposition to your climax felt more intense than you’d ever experienced, and you were reaching for Mitchell’s forearm attempting to steady his movements, but all you were doing was pushing him on further.

“Let it out for me baby.” His voice was shaky, and it sounded as if he was holding back moans of his own.

Hearing him get so aroused by talking you through your pleasure only added to the pressure building in your core. 

“C’mon sweet girl I can feel you. So fuckin’ close.” 

You were writhing below his touch, whimpering and allowing yourself to give into the feeling of Mitchell’s fingers as he deliberately made sure each stroke hit the right spot. The sensation forming in your belly was almost too much to bear. 

Your relief was surging closer to release, like a wave it just kept building and you weren’t sure if you could handle it. And then, with Mitchell pushing into you, whispering little praises into your ear, you were coming undone. The floodgates were opened and your release was crashing over you, intense and all consuming. You were speechless as you felt yourself gushing over Mitchell’s fingers still deep inside you. He was coaxing you through your release, watching as you soaked his hand.

“Mmm look at that baby.” his voice was seeping with lust and he was looking between your bodies in a trance by the mess you were making beneath him. 

“Good girl.” He was growling and slowing the movements as he watched you come down from your high.

You were out of breath and in a state of pure bliss as you stared up at Mitchell. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” With him looking back at you, you could see the look of pride in his expression, a smug smile on his lips.

“God I’m never gonna be able to get enough of you.” He brought his mouth down to you, locking his lips with yours in a hungrily passionate embrace.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the mess on Mitchell’s sheets or the fact that you didn’t think you could form words at the moment. All you wanted was to keep going, to make Mitchell feel just as good as he had made you feel. 

You were pushing yourself onto your elbows and making every effort to find your way to the obvious erection in his jeans. 

As much as Mitchell wanted to spend the entire night fucking you in every way imaginable, he knew it was too risky. Hell, he had almost lost his control before he even laid a finger on you.

While he felt excited by his newfound ability to venture further into this territory with you, he still wanted to take it step by step. He wanted to make sure he could trust himself– that you could trust him. 

“next time.”

He was grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, sealing his promise with a kiss to your palm.

You were pouting, but also inwardly thankful for his guarantee of future sexual escapades. 

“Don’t wanna bite off more than we can chew, yeah?” 

He was grinning to himself and leaning down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before hoping off his bed and searching for a towel. 

my masterlist

[someone1348]

It was long overdue...its time; I'm doing a squid games fic! I'm scared, but I'm posting it anyway! I've wanted to write for it for a while now, I just never had ideas or motivation! There's already so many great squid games writers, and I just am nervous!

Anyway!

The people in this: Ler!Jung-Bae, Lee!Dae-ho (naturally, I had to do them first!)

Tw: Anxiety, a little cursing, regardless this is a tickle fic, so if you don't like it, please keep scrolling! Thank you! :]

Also, squid games season 2 spoilers, so if you haven't watched it, I'd recommend watching it first!

With that being said enjoy!! <3

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Such a ticklish marine

They had just finished the six-legged pentathlon. Spirits were high for about five seconds before they heard the gunshots again from the other side of the room. Dae-ho squirmed back again, covering his ears. Heart racing as Jung-Bae put a hand to his shoulder. It was almost like it was second nature. Dae-ho definitely showed his love through physical touch, and Jung-Bae did, too, so it just worked. They mirrored each other perfectly. The older of the two really took Dae-ho in, especially after he found out he was also an ex-marine. The bond of marines is unbreakable, but with how big Jung-Bae's heart is, he saw Dae-ho like the son he never had. Even if he doesn't admit it out loud, his actions show everything.

So when he's freaking out, covering his ears, fidgeting, the whole nine yards, he clocked his ptsd pretty fast. It made his heart ache a little for the poor boy. He wanted to, no, needed to do something to help him out. Jung-Bae took a deep breath and walked behind him as they entered the main room. Several teams who made it already sitting on one of the bunks groupped together, naturally. They did the same, sitting down waiting now for dinner to be served. Dae-ho was fidgeting again with his hands, scanning the room as some of the teams gave their team ugly stares. Jung-Bae placed a gentle hand to his knee for support, to try and ground him so he knows that he's not alone. Dae-ho's shoulders jumped a little at the impact but relaxed when he realized it was just Jung-Bae.

"Don't worry about them... they're just greedy assholes. We won't let anything happen to you or anyone on our team." Jung-Bae said with a determined smile as Dae-ho nodded.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Dae-ho replied out of instinct as Jung-Bae giggled gently at this.

"Atta boy!" He gently squeezed Dae-ho's knee as his hearty laughter grew. Without having time to hold back a reaction, Dae-ho squeaked quietly, but it definitely caught Jung-Bae's attention. Even through his laughter, he definitely heard that correctly. Blinking gently, Jung-Bae looked up at the boy with curiosity. Dae-ho's eyes widened. He tried to keep a poker face, like nothing happened, but he was really bad at that. Jung-Bae and everyone around him could see right through him.

"Dae-ho...?" Jung-Bae said a slight tease in his voice.

Dae-ho gulped gently and blinked "Yes...Sir...?"

The nervous reaction sent Jung-Bae's smile into a wicked smirk. He scooted closer to the already anxious marine. Now his heart was racing again, not out of fear, though. It moved quickly knowing what was potentially about to happen. He has four older sisters. He knows a 'I'm gonna tickle you' look when he sees one!

"Don't tell me, you, a strong, brave, ex-marine is ticklish?" He teased him, obviously not talking down to him. Dae-ho knew this and was thankful that he didn't make fun of him for it. It was normal, nothing to be ashamed about. Dae-ho took a deep breath, not knowing how to respond. Jung-Bae just giggled.

"This is gold!" He seemed happier than ever at this newfound information. Was...was that it? Was he really not going to get tickled? Dae-ho was overthinking it before the gaurds called everyone to grab dinner. Snapping out of his thoughts, they all got in line to get their portion of the meals. It was barely anything. Every day, there was less. They did that on purpose, but hey, at least they were getting something to eat.

After getting his tin and water, Dae-ho sat back down in the same spot. Jung-Bae, however, moved up a step to sit next to Dae-ho. The younger looked at the older with wider eyes than normal. Jung-Bae didn't say anything he just opened his tin and started eating.

"What did you get?" The question made Dae-ho blink before he opened his tin.

"Um...the same thing as you, we all get the same thing, sir," he said matter-of-factly. Which again made Jung-Bae giggle. This man was just always full of laughter, even in a situation like this. Something that made Dae-ho admire him even further. The conversation fell silent again as they kept eating. Jung-Bae talking to Gi-Hun and the others before turning back to Dae-ho.

"So...where are you most ticklish?" He asked teasingly and excitedly.

Dae-ho nearly choked on his rice at the question. Coughing a little before regaining his senses, Jung-Bae laughed.

"You okay, soldier?"

Dae-ho nodded quickly. The older patted his shoulder again happily. Jung-Bae was doing all of this on purpose. Sure, he wanted to know this information, but he wanted to help, mostly. He thought that maybe tickling him could help get him distracted enough to calm his anxiety. It worked on Gi-Hun whenever he had nightmares as kids, so maybe it'll help Dae-ho, too. He needed to try regardless. If it doesn't work, he'll try something else. Jung-Bae smirked and went back to teasing.

"If you won't talk, that's fine, I'll figure it out one way or another," he hummed gently, running a hand down his spine. Dae-ho arched gently out of instinct and smiled. Good a smile, that's a start. He's not uncomfortable. That's all he wanted to make sure of first before he could do anything.

Once dinner was completed, Jung-Bae finally put his plan into action. Dae-ho tried to move away to throw his tin away, but Jung-Bae pulled him back.

"Ah ah ah... you can do that later! I wanna see what you can do, boy! You've impressed me a lot as of recently. Let's keep that streak up, sha'll we?" He hummed as Dae-ho raised an eyebrow.

"I'm honored, sir, but I'm not exactly following..." He said honestly as Jung-Bae's smirk returned.

"Don't laugh~" he teased. Without warning, he used both hands to gently squeeze at Dae-ho's sides. A loud shriek rang through the place, followed by laughter and Dae-ho rolling over, trying to escape him. If he started with any other spot, he would've been able to hold it in, but Jung-Bae had to get his worst spot first! On a total guess too! Not fair!

Jung-Bae giggled with him. "You didn't even last a second! Such a ticklish marine~" he teased again, stopping for a second so Dae-ho could catch his breath and sit up.

"That wasn't fair! I could've done better if you didn't go for-" he inhaled and bit his lip as Jung-Bae tickled his neck in retaliation for the attitude. This was so fun for him now.

"Ohhhh, there we go! You're lastly relatively well. Let's see how you pair up against two spots at once!" He cheered before using his other hand to skitter gently across his ribs. Dae-ho squirmed a little but kept his laughter back as best as he could.

"You can do it, Dae-ho!" He supported him while actively scribbling across his stomach to get to each side of his ribs. Back and forth, while his other hand still wiggled against the right side of Dae-ho's neck. It took 10 more seconds before Dae-ho burst out in giggles again. Lying on the steps to try and get away. Jung-Bae's hands followed his movements with a smile.

"Juhuhung-bahahae!! Sihihir! Please! Hahaha!" It was light airy giggles since Jung-Bae was being relatively nice about it, for now. The older marines heart practically melted into puddy at the sound.

"Please what Dae-ho? I can't understand you with all this laughter!" He pulled up his shirt a little, using both hands to now tickle his stomach, which got Dae-ho kicking now. His water bottle now knocked off the stairs. Thank God it was closed. But Young-il had to duck, moving out of the way of the water bottle and the pair.

"JUHuhUhung-BAHaEHe!" He laughed a little more as his hands held onto the others' wrists. The other laughed with him and continued to tease him. One finger finding it's way into his belly button. This caused Dae-ho to make a sound similar to a snort and laugh some more.

"You know I think this might be why you're not a marine anymore, you're an interrogation risk, one little tickle and you'd spill all the beans of our plans" he joked which made the other a little embarrassed. His ears were a little red as he kept laughing.

"HaHaHAHAHA!" He kept going. "I wOhoHould nEHeHeVer! BETraHAhay! My TeHEHEheam!" He tried to defend himself before Jung-Bae smirked. He knew that, duh, but that was still adorable. He liked it when he was laughing rather than panicking. It suited him.

"Tickle Tickle Tickle~" he teased more, moving up to gently tickle his underarms. Dae-ho slammed them down quickly, his laughter never subsiding as he squirmed around on the step.

"GEhehEt OhoHOUT oF tHEHehere!!" He shook his head no as Jung-Bae giggled.

"Oh? Do you want me to pick a different spot?" He asked gently as Dae-ho nodded frantically through his laughter. He soon regretted his decision as Jung-Bae's hands went from his underarms to his sides, squeezing the ex-marine's most ticklish spot with determination.

"AHAHAHAHA NOHOHO HAHAHAHA!" Dae-ho let out a bout of laughter mixed with some incoherent speech. His kicking increased ten-folds as well. He was a squirmer, that's for sure. Jung-Bae smiled and kept going.

"What's the matter soldier? Is it too ticklish for ya? Hmm? I'm gonna getcha!" He was deep into tickle monster mode now. There was no stopping Jung-Bae now. Dae-ho squeaked this time as he let himself laugh.

"IHIHHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! JUHUHUHUNG-BAHAEHE!" He threw his head back gently, laughing as his back arched into his hands out of instinct. This was amusing to Jung-Bae. So he was enjoying this, good!

"SHIHIHIT!-" He said, moving his body back to the floor. Jung-Bae smirked at this.

"Such fowl language for an ex-marine! Watch your tone, young man!" He smiled before blowing a raspberry into one of his sides, still tickling his other side with the other hand. He lost his mind.

"SIHIHIHIR! IHIM SOHOHORRY! MERCY PLEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHA!" He asked for mercy. Jung-Bae gave him a few more scribbles before he finally stopped. Beaming, Jung-Bae sat back and watched Dae-ho catch his breath, giggles poking through every now and again.

"At ease, buddy"

"Thahank you...sir" he sat up gently as Jung-Bae patted his shoulder again. His duty was done. Mission completed.

"Dae-ho, don't worry about it, you aren't the only ticklish ex-marine around." Gi-Hun smirked as Jung-Bae gasped

"Gi-Hun!" He said, sounded offended even though he really wasn't. Dae-ho giggled at this and turned to Jung-Bae.

"I see..." he hummed teasingly

Like father like son.

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

Thank you @sleepy--anon for pushing me further to write for squid games and giving me the duo idea! I hope I did the fandom/show justice!

-K :]

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 6 : Deal?

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me, lol).

Ao3 version.

Commission cover art.

Cover art poll.

Chapter titles.

Fic playlist 🎵 💕 🎶 ✨️ <3

Cover redraw.

Enjoy!

October 31st, 1630

Dear Journal,

Caleb hasn't been fine or himself since the trial ended days ago. He tells me that he is, but I can tell that he's fibbing. My brother isn't exactly the best liar, though he thinks he is.

I have a slight suspicion about what's been bothering him and causing him so much pain and grief, but why would it? It's been troubling my mind a great deal as well, admittedly.

I just want my brother back, the old him.

The one who would always smile when we went witch hunting together and would cheerfully carve birds and other fantastic things, instead of the one that I have now who I have to make feel better almost all of the time, and who eats less, and who lies in bed all day crying, and--

Philip paused his penmanship on parchment mid-sentence as he sighed, shifting his gaze to his brother while sitting up in bed.

Caleb was lying silently in his bed, his head on his pillow while wrapped woefully in his thin covers.

Even though Caleb's face was turned away from Philip, the brunette could instinctively tell that his spirits were tremendously low.

...

The time of day was night as the front door of the Wittebane household in the woods flew open with great force.

With tightened jaws, lips, and flaring nostrils, Philip stormed inside, his mind exploding with more and more rage as he thought about the sinful happening he had just witnessed tonight.

Rushing to his room, he wasted no time going over to the head of his bed as the brunette slipped a hand under his pillow, retrieving his trusted journal.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Philip began flipping through his book for a fresh page to start writing in.

Finding the desired page, he pulled out a pen from behind his back and began to pour out his emotions on parchment.

September 28th, 1630

Dear Journal,

I've completely had it with that ****** !

Caleb, wearing his vest and boots, wanders through the woods after Philip heads to school, eventually reaching the deep, dense forest while walking with his pitchfork in his hands.

He was on a determined hunt to capture and turn in the hooded figure, rumored to be a witch, who had been spotted in the woods outside of town.

Apparently, her hideout was somewhere in the forest, but Caleb was having trouble locating it.

Suddenly, in the corner of his brown eye, the blonde caught a flicker of red dart past him with lightning speed.

A cloak was worn by the fast-moving figure as they hurried away.

They seemed oddly familiar to Caleb, and without hesitation, he pursued the person.

As he chased the figure, he soon saw it run into a clearing and finally caught up with it, causing the person to pause as they turned to face him.

Caleb halted as well.

He was taken aback when the hooded figure raised her carrot-colored fluffy bangs that covered the entirety of her eyes with her hand, which were widened with surprise and shimmered, in order to get a better look at him.

She also wore a double-bitted key around her neck with a skull-shaped button on its bow.

Her eyes...

Caleb has never witnessed a color this brilliant inside someone's irises before.

The gold was shiny and... looked oddly gorgeous on her.

As Caleb continued to stare, somewhat in awe at the girl, she shined him a small, uncomfortable smile, pointing a finger at his pitchfork, silently asking him to please put it down.

Quickly obliging, Caleb placed the pitchfork on the ground and gave the girl an apologetic grin while scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

The girl, seemingly amazed that this human boy had heeded her request, flashed Caleb a mischievous grin as she pushed back her hood enough to reveal her ears, which wiggled adorably.

Caleb's eyes widened with wonder as he saw the pointed tips of her ears.

His eyes followed her hands as she created a small, glowing circle from which a flame sprang to life, dancing on her palm, which spelled the name '******' before vanishing.

Caleb let out a small gasp. He couldn't believe it, his eyes shining with amazement and disbelief. This was no regular girl. This was a witch, and her name was ******.

After the shock of speaking to an actual witch faded away, the blonde finally spoke, giving ****** his name.

Suddenly, Caleb felt a sense of guilt rise in his stomach, his face growing somewhat pale.

****** didn't look anything like the witches he would help condemn at the pyre.

Did that mean...?

Caleb shook the dreadful thought away.

No, that can't be the case.

****** must be an advanced witch of some sort.

It's probable that the others were ordinary witches.

Just as Caleb was about to tell ****** that he was a witch hunter, she gave him a knowing, yet kind smile.

She already knew that he was one (his pitchfork was a dead giveaway), but something about Caleb in particular seemed different and not like the other hunters.

The children where she came from were much more scarier than him and could make one break down in tears with their words alone.

No, Caleb seemed soft.

Not weak per se, but soft-hearted.

Besides, if he were like the other humans, he would have either killed or captured her by now, but she was still there with him.

With a somewhat flirtatious but also still really friendly smile, ****** decided to give Caleb a wink, which caused him to blush before letting out a chuckle.

Caleb then decides to shoot ****** with some flirty finger guns and blinks both of his eyes in an attempt to wink one.

This results in the witch snorting into her hand.

Poking its head out of ******'s hood was a black bird, soon revealing itself to be a raven as it flew towards Caleb before making a landing on his shoulder.

Both Caleb and ******'s eyes twinkled in amusement at the bird, mainly ******'s.

Her Little Rascal, quite literally his name, didn't like anyone except for her.

She watched Little Rascal rub affectionately against Caleb's face as he outstretched his finger for the raven to hop onto, which he did so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his eyes.

Both boys began to stare fondly at each other, with Little Rascal letting out a cheerful croak at Caleb.

He let out a laugh.

****** found herself smiling tenderly at this adorable interaction, her bile-sac skipping a beat within her chest.

Caleb truly was different.

Wondering where ****** found such a terrific raven from Caleb learns that ******'s raven, quite like herself, wasn't ordinary.

He was her palisman, and he soon flew back into his owner's hood after she whistled for him to return.

Just as Caleb was beginning to wonder what a palisman was, it was time for ****** and Little Rascal to leave as neither wanted to be spotted by any other humans.

However, ****** saw the eager expression on the blonde's face, and with a sly smirk, she expressed for Caleb to meet her in the exact same location tomorrow night.

She planned to teach him more about palismen, as well as a few other things from her world.

With one last wink and a small wave, ****** ran further into the forest.

While waving goodbye to his new friend, Caleb felt a soft smile start to brighten his face.

Caleb's dopey grin remained on his face throughout the rest of the day as he eagerly awaited for tomorrow night while doing his daily activities, and Philip couldn't comprehend the reason for his brother's overly merry and upbeat demeanor.

The next day, as evening turned into night, Caleb anticipated Philip going to bed so that he could see her again. Ah, ******. Like a breath of fresh air in his lungs. What a wonderful name for a girl. Caleb kept repeating it over and over again in his mind.

After receiving a good night from Caleb, Philip went straight to sleep, which gave the eldest the opportunity to quietly slip out of the house and race outside in the woods, his heart pounding with excitement as he got closer to the forest.

Finally arriving at the clearing, Caleb saw ****** waiting for him.

With a sly smirk, she motioned for the human to sit beside her in the grass.

As soon as he happily did, ****** twirled her finger, and in a flash of colorful light, images started appearing over their heads.

As Caleb watched, his eyes widening in wonder, ****** showed him illusion after illusion of her life.

She showed him how witches conjured up magic and where magic came from, what palismen were and their purpose, strange plants, her favorite shops in Bonesborough, a town in the Demon Realm that she lived in, and the spot in the garden that she loved to use for naps when she was a little witchlet.

****** then showed Caleb a few images of the massive library she worked in, and then she showed him a scene of her winning some sort of magical battle with a demon who had tried to pick a fight with the wrong witch, and then some scenes of her with a small but boisterous family, and finally, she showed him her most treasured memory...

The time her father had flown her and her little sister high into the air to show them a beautiful sunset over a corpse-shaped island, the corpse of the Titan.

Caleb stared at the images, his imagination running completely wild.

Once ****** had finished telling her story, it was time for Caleb to share about his life.

He did so but only mentioned the parts he was most comfortable with.

He spoke about his and Philip's childhood but did not linger on the passing of their parents.

After learning about each other's lives, Caleb and ****** continued to gaze into each other's eyes, warm smiles making their way on their lips as they slowly reached to hold hands. They then shifted their gaze to the star-filled night sky.

Caleb, with his peaceful visage brightened under the moon and stars, asks ****** if she'd be willing to take him on a trip to the Demon Realm someday as it was a place bursting with beauty and culture that he wanted to witness and experience himself.

Turning to Caleb with lidded eyes and a soft look, ****** answers him with a nod and the two continue to view the colors of the bright night sky.

Since meeting her, she has only been a nuisance and a major inconvenience...

In a recap of chapter 5, Philip walks home after the book signing event at sunset...

He steps inside his home and hears giggling in the kitchen...

Philip freezes in shock upon seeing Caleb cooking in the kitchen with a witch girl...

The brunette goes to charge at her in an attempt to attack her, but Caleb prevents it.

This girl, who looks to be the same age as Caleb, is introduced by the blonde as ******...

... And is clearly leading my brother down a path of deceit and damnation.

Later in the evening, after ensuring that Philip was fast asleep and snoring in his room, Caleb silently joined ****** by the fire with a smile as the two shared a comfortable blanket together and sighed in unison.

As the fire slowly burned down, Caleb drifted to sleep, curled up next to a sleeping ****** as their peaceful faces were illuminated by the flickering light of the fireplace.

Meanwhile, eerie, bright blue eyes that glowed with anger slowly disappeared behind Philip's bedroom door as it silently closed.

I don't even want to go into the specifics of what I witnessed Caleb and the witch doing tonight for my own sake. It was utterly horrific.

When Philip returned home, he observed how dim the interior was, which puzzled him since he believed ****** would come over for a visit.

The fireplace was not on, nor were there any candles lit or any signs of a shared supper made for two on the table.

Philip found himself smirking in triumph as he let out a 'hmph!'.

Perhaps the witch had opted to disappear forever and never return to their (his and Caleb's) home or lives.

As Philip continued to reflect on the nice thought, he noted the dead silence of the house but assumed it was because Caleb was asleep.

He would be if ****** wasn't there, after all.

After letting his hair down, he went upstairs and opened his room door, only to discover that Caleb was not there.

A sudden rush of panic swept through Philip's mind.

He knew Caleb was drifting further and further away ever since ****** came into the picture, a lingering fear that he couldn't let go of.

He was going to lose Caleb. Caleb was going to abandon him. Or worse, the witch would take Caleb away, and he would be powerless to stop her.

An uncontrollable rage rose within Philip.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

He wouldn't.

And so, with a surge of determination and adrenaline, Philip dashed down the stairs and out the door into the woods to reach the forest.

The brunette had a hunch that Caleb and ****** would be at the clearing since he had observed them there several times before while spying on them from inside bushes and shrubs.

While running, Philip focused his enraged gaze on the floating lights in the distance between trees.

'Magic', he thought to himself.

And he knew exactly who was responsible for it.

As they stepped onto the last light glyph, Caleb and ****** lost themselves in the slow dance they were sharing under the stars at the clearing.

The world remained silent as they held each other in a moment that felt like an eternity.

Caleb, with the help of a delicate yet shaking hand, gently brushed a lock of ******'s hair behind her ear, and as if guided by a force greater than theirs in a sudden moment, their lips pressed together in a breathless and beautiful kiss as a tidal wave of teenage emotions washed over them.

The kiss was a symbol of both defiance and love.

And although the love between a winsome witch and a happy human could lead to their demise if discovered, it didn't matter at this moment.

The only thing that mattered was them and their emotions.

However, Caleb and ****** were unaware of the shadow lurking behind them.

As he stood still and horrified, Philip's eyes were filled with an unimaginable amount of hurt, concern, betrayal, and fear.

As Caleb held that witch in his arms, his sole focus was on her and only her.

He and the wench were smiling.

Caleb was... smiling …

Philip wanted badly to call out to him, to keep Caleb safe and prevent him from making, in his eyes, the biggest mistake of his life.

But it was too late.

As he watched the soon-to-be couple move their faces closer to each other, he couldn't think of a single word to say.

As their lips met, Philip felt the heavy weight of reality descend upon him, shattering his fragile heart into tiny fragments as if it were made of glass.

It had all been right there in front of him this entire time.

Why was he unable to see the most obvious signs before?

Caleb Wittebane, his beloved older brother, was in love... and not just with anyone... with a witch.

As Philip sniffled, a tear slipped down on his parchment page before more quickly followed suit.

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Philip continued writing with a heavy heart while trying his best to control his crying, his nose now stuffy.

... I need her gone. Out of our lives. For good. I will do what I need to protect Caleb. To protect Gravesfield. I am certain that the next gathering at the pyre will be an eventful one. One that will be remembered for a considerable amount of time. All I need to do is reach out to--

Matthew Hopkins took a suave stroll down the busy town market the next day, his confidence evident in every step he took while wearing his brand new coat along with a new pair of boots and breeches.

The witchfinder figured some new clothes would turn a lot of heads in town since he was undeniably attractive, which was, of course, a factual opinion.

Other townsfolk seemed to agree with this truth as just about everyone who Hopkins quietly passed by quickly placed their focus on his fine features that were framed by the afternoon sun.

The men wanted to be like him, the single women wanted to be with him and run their hands through his hair, and most of the married women had thoughts about him while bathing, but never told their husbands.

Hopkins slipped on a smirk as he witnessed the sizeable sight of flushed admirers gazing at him as a small chuckle emerged from his throat.

He then turns his attention to the male quail that was settled on his shoulder.

Watson, Matthew's pet and feathered companion, shifted his eyes to his owner as he soon began to bob his head.

"You'll have your feed once we arrive home," Hopkins promised quietly to the quail in a reassuring voice.

"You have my word."

Hopkins never faltered in his honesty towards Watson, always keeping his word to the bird.

For a long time, the two had been together, and their bond was unbreakable.

Watson, chirping with understanding, stopped bobbing and continued to observe the marketgoers focusing on his owner.

...

'I have to save Caleb. I have to save Caleb. I must. I will. Caleb, I will save you,' were the purposeful words that Philip repeated in his head as he arrived at his destination, a small doorstep.

After knocking on the door, his blue eyes glittered with glee as the door swung open, but luckily, he was swift enough to take a step back without being hit.

Philip found himself under the "heroic" gaze of his hero.

"Mr. Hopkins!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"That's me...," Hopkins slowly replied as he raised a confused brow at the boy.

Although he appreciated the youth, he didn't usually receive knocks on his door from them.

Typically, when he answered his door, he expected to see either the town minister paying him a visit or one of the various women from town coming to sing their praises for him or gift him with bird seed for Watson.

What did this teenage boy whom he's never met before in his entire life want from him?

"Look, if you want my signed signature, can it not wait until tomorrow?" Hopkins requested, assuming that's what the boy wanted.

"I was just about to feed my pet quail, Watson."

Upon hearing his name from inside, Watson let out a chirp.

"Who's at the door?" Hopkins turned to answer him before looking back at Philip.

"Oh, just some boy from town. And he's ... clearly got an eye problem."

Those last five words were muttered out by the witchfinder, referring to the visible sparkles of elation shining in Philip's eyes.

They were far too big and bright as he squinted.

"I do apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Hopkins," Philip said, his eyes returning to their normal state as he took on a mature demeanor. "But I didn't come here for your signature. I came for a more serious matter. A witch matter."

"A witch matter?" This got Matthew's attention, his eyes flickering with interest in what the boy had to say.

"That does sound quite serious. Very well then. Come inside, young...?" Hopkins paused, not knowing the boy's name.

"Philip!" Philip quickly answered, his enthusiasm shining once more.

"Philip Wittebane! Mr. Hopkins, I'm not sure if you remember, but we've met before," the brunette politely informed.

"We have?" Hopkins tilted his head some, taking in the boy's appearance.

Did he seem familiar?

Philip nodded. "Yes, at the library! Your book signing event was held there! I approached your table!"

Hopkins proceeded to blink. Tons of people approached his table that day.

"You... sighed my book?" Philip quietly stated, hoping that would jog Mr. Hopkins' memory.

However, it didn't as the general continued to stand there with a puzzled expression.

"Oh!" In a swift motion, Philip quickly whipped out his copy of "The Ways of a Witch Hunter" from behind his back and opened the book to its title page.

He pointed to the poorly drawn horse next to Matthew's initials.

"You drew this for me!"

Hopkins studied the artwork beside his name, slowly recalling it.

"Ah, I see. Now I remember..." His memory was primarily of drawing the horse, with a brief memory of speaking to Philip. "Very well then, young Philip."

When Hopkins said his name, Philip was close to exploding, but he held it together.

"Come inside."

Philip nodded as he stepped inside Mr. Hopkins' home.

...

After Hopkins had given Watson his feed of food, as he had previously promised during their stroll, he walked over to the table where he had instructed Philip to sit at.

The general couldn't help but smirk when he saw the boy's captivated reaction to his interior walls.

"Impressive collection, isn't it?" Hopkins asked with a chuckle, taking a seat at the table.

Philip, taking his gaze off of the display of mounted 'witch' skulls on the walls, looked to Mr. Hopkins.

He nodded. "It is," Philip agreed. "Are they... real?"

Hopkins let out a boisterous laugh, a prideful smile playing on his lips.

"Of course they are! I certainly wouldn't have them if they weren't. I've preserved the skulls of every witch I've condemned as a way to show the devil that I mean business. I refuse to let him or his followers poison our great town with their treachery."

Aspiration to be just like Mr. Hopkins shined in Philip's eyes, his smile growing immensely at every word the general said.

He, too, wouldn't allow the devil or his followers to poison Gravesfield.

After chuckling inwardly at the dark thought in his mind of one of the heads on the wall being ******'s, Philip beamed out, "Mr. Hopkins, you truly are a godly man."

Hopkins chuckled outwardly at the compliment. "I have to agree," he said.

"Now, about the witch matter, if I may ask what made you decide to come to me about it? I'd assume the first person you'd want to discuss this with would be the town minister."

"Well," Philip began. "You are the greatest witch hunter in Gravesfield," he told Hopkins.

"And the greatest who ever lived," Hopkins quickly added with a conceited look on his face.

Philip gave a nod at that fact.

"Yes, and I know Mr. Town Minister has been awfully busy writing the extra copies of this week's sermon for the hard-of-hearing members of the congregation..." Bless his soul. "So I didn't wish to bother him."

"I see... So, about the witch matter?" Hopkins desired to know every juicy detail about it.

"Yes, about that...," Philip mumbled, trying to think of what to say. He knew that he had to be wary of his words to prevent getting Caleb in trouble.

The blonde would probably still face minor consequences, but Philip needed to make sure that ****** the witch was the one to face death and meet her maker, Satan, in the afterlife by the end of all of this.

"Well?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms as his raised an impatient brow. "Out with it already."

Philip took a deep breath. "Do you know about the witch who's been running around town in a hood?"

"I do," Hopkins replied.

"Well, Caleb, my brother, h--"

Hopkins' eyes broadened as he suddenly slammed both his hands down harshly on the table, startling Philip as he flinched and quickly zipped his lips.

"Is he the witch?!" Hopkins demanded to know in an aggressive tone.

"Huh?!" Philip quickly shook his head, shaking his hands sideways. "N-No, sir!" he said, quickly rejecting the idea.

"Oh...," Hopkins quietly went, settling down some. "My apologies then." He cleared his voice, motioning for Philip to continue.

"Caleb is... having relations with her," Philip confessed.

"Oh, he is, is he?"

Philip felt instantly frightened by the dangerous glare on Matthew Hopkins' face and began to defend his brother the best he could.

"He is, but please, Mr. Hopkins, it's not Caleb's fault! The witch was the one who committed immoral acts! Caleb was charmed by her! Bewitched! Bewitched by a pointy-eared temptress who--"

"Stop."

"Huh?" Philip stopped speaking after being told to do so.

"Did you just say that this witch that Cain--"

"A-Actually, it's Caleb, Mr. Hopkins," Philip gently corrected, hoping he wouldn't get scolded for it.

"Yes, Christopher. That's what I said. The witch that he's been seeing... her ears are... pointed?" Hopkins asked, wanting a confirmation.

"Yes, sir. They are," Philip confirmed.

"I see...," Hopkins said with an intrigued expression. "Witches with pointy ears are far more dangerous than ones with so-called human ears."

"They are?!" Philip questioned with a shocked expression upon learning this.

Hopkins nodded. "They are."

'I knew it!' Philip thought to himself.

His brother truly was in grave danger.

"Young Philip, how's about we make a deal?"

"A deal?"

"Yes. A court date for this pointy-eared sorceress will be set for October 25th."

'That's the end of this week,' Philip noted inwardly.

"If you're somehow able to convince your brother to bring her to court, I'll have a talk with the minister. At the very least, his punishment will involve unpleasant questioning along with public repentance in order for him to rebuild his reputation. It's also probable that he'll have to spend a night or two locked in the manure pit."

As a sight gag, the scene pauses to display a set of blackletter words on screen that state: 'Side note: the manure pit is not an actual pit but rather a very old outhouse in Gravesfield that no one in town goes near due to the horrendous stench.'

Once the gag ends, the story continues.

"As long as we can break him out of his spell, Caesar will certainly keep his life."

Philip sighed, slouching a bit in relief.

At least Caleb would get to live.

A hand then clasped Philip's shoulder.

He looked to see Matthew Hopkins now standing beside him.

Silently, he gazed at the man he looked up to like a son would his father, his eyes gleaming once more.

"You are being very brave, young Philip," Matthew told him.

Philip's chest swelled at the praise.

"R-Really?" he managed to stammer out, slight flush appearing on his features. "You really think so?"

"Oh, I know so. Now, do we have a deal?" Hopkins proceeded to hold out his hand for Philip to shake.

Philip looked at the hand for a bit, then at Mr. Hopkins. His face brightened immediately as he stood up from his seat.

"Deal!" The brunette vigorously shook Hopkins' hand.

"Wonderful. Now, before you take off, I'd like for you to have this." Matthew Hopkins reached a hand down his holder and retrieved a dagger.

The weapon's blade was unusually sharp and had a crooked appearance.

Philip gasped. "M-Mr. Hopkins! You're giving me--"

"Yes. A gift from me to you." Hopkins handed the dagger to Philip.

He had plenty of other daggers that looked exactly the same on the wall of his room.

"Protect yourself against any wild witches you might come in contact with," Hopkins spoke passionately, putting on a bit of a show as he clenched his fist.

He smiled a cocksure smile seeing Philip eat his behavior up.

Philip held the hilt of the weapon, admiring it fully.

Matthew Hopkins, the greatest witch hunter of all time, was giving him his dagger... as a gift?!

Philip could faint.

He wasn't going to, but he could have.

The brunette swiftly nodded. "I will! Oh, Mr. Hopkins, I am truly honored to have this!"

Hopkins chuckled.

This kid was something else.

"You should be," Matthew said, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

After waving Philip off, Hopkins went over to Watson, who had just cleaned out his small bowl of bird food.

"Did you hear that, Watson? A witch with pointed ears," Matthew stated as he took the empty bowl.

Watson chirped before flapping his wings to move up, landing on Hopkins' shoulder.

The general chuckled briefly at his companion's response, stroking beneath his neck with care.

"I know, I know," he spoke gently. "It's been forever since we've last seen one..."

A sense that one could describe as nostalgia trailed in Hopkins' voice.

...

As Philip traveled down the center of town, he was in a state of contemplation, thinking of ways to persuade Caleb to take his beloved (bleh) witch to court.

He knew his brother was far too deep in a state of bewitchment by her love spell to do it willingly. So what ways could he employ to convince him to do the right thing?

While continuing to ponder, within the bustling crowd of townsfolk moving to and fro, Philip quickly spotted a hooded figure heading forward... and she wasn't alone, nor was she with Caleb.

She was with--

A small gasp escaped Philip, his blue eyes widening slightly.

Swiftly shifting his direction to an empty stall so that his back was turned as ****** and the human boy she was holding hands with passed by, Philip slowly turned his head to watch them.

'That's Miss. Doughberry's son...,' he whispered inside his head in genuine surprise.

'What's he doing with that witch?'

Philip took note of the fluttering looks the two gave each other as they approached the storefront door of the bakery.

As the son of Miss. Doughberry gently lifted ******'s hood down, he revealed the set of human ears that she now had.

Philip narrowed his eyes at the sight of this.

'She clearly used magic to fake those ears. Those aren't really hers,' he spat out in his mind.

'Conniving witch...,' he growled, continuing to view the interaction.

With a glowing look of love in her eyes and a soft smile, ****** leaned in close to the son.

A gentle grin crept onto his lips as the two shared a short but meaningful kiss before stepping inside the bakery together.

Witnessing the display of affection caused Philip to feel a surge of unbridled anger, accompanied by a scowl of disgust on his face.

'THAT DEPLORABLE WENCH!!' his internal self literally roared out, Internal Philip's head growing and his mouth opening to expose several rows of deadly sharp teeth in a fearsome sight gag.

He was just about ready to rip ******'s head off.

With a sharp turn, Philip quickly darted in the direction of home.

'Caleb has to know about this,' he told himself in a steely tone.

...

As the evening progressed to night, Caleb gave a suave twirl, turning to face the full-body mirror in his bedroom with a smashing smile.

Holding a simple wood carving of two swans with their necks craned together like a heart, the blonde took a breath before smiling and saying with confidence, "Oh, hello, love! I didn't see you there! You're looking quite divine tonight."

Caleb proceeded to hold up his carving to the mirror. "What's this? It's a swan carving! I made it for you."

Pretending as if ****** had wordlessly complimented his carving, Caleb gave a bashful chuckle. "It's beautiful? Why, thank you! I don't think it rivals your beauty, though. Nothing in this world ever could."

After another light-hearted chuckle, Caleb rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Um, love? I have a question. Is it alright to... kiss you?"

The blonde smiled softly, pretending to have received a silent yes from ******.

"Very well then." Slowly, Caleb leaned forward, pressing his puckered lips against the mirror's glass.

Upon pulling away, a warm sensation of true love was felt in his stomach.

"Oh, beloved, your lips are as soft as rose petals," Caleb told no one with softened eyes.

With a motivated grin on his face, he took another breath and nodded. "Alright," Caleb told himself. "I think I'm ready for my date."

"Are you?" asked a familiar voice.

"Eee!" squealed a surprised Caleb as he jumped, his swan carving nearly slipping from his grasp.

Turning swiftly, he saw his younger brother standing at the entryway of their room with an unamused expression on his face.

"Ph-Philip!" Caleb squeaked, his cheeks flushing dark red. "H-How... how much did you... see?" the blonde quietly asked.

"Oh, only all of it," Philip answered in a monotonous tone as he entered the room.

Caleb noticed the gruff and bothered expression on his brother's face, a look of concern soon crossing his own.

"You look troubled, Pip," the eldest reached out, placing a hand on Philip's shoulder before continuing. "Is something the matter?"

After remaining silent for a while, the youngest exhaled a sigh. "It's that witch...," Philip muttered out. "I saw her in town today. She's..."

The brunette paused, searching for the right words to convey the news to his brother.

"She was with Miss. Doughberry's son. They held hands and..." Philip took a breath.

"Caleb, there's no easy way to say this, but... they shared a kiss. That witch is being unfaithful."

Hearing out his brother and taking in his words, Caleb frowned.

"Philip," the eldest began, a sense of firmness in his voice. "I understand that you don't like ******, but it's not acceptable for you to fabricate tales about her."

Fabricate? That word struck a nerve within Philip. "Are you implying that I'm a liar?" Philip growled lowly, lowering his brows at his brother.

"No, but I'm certainly not calling you a truther, either," Caleb simply stated, lowering his brows as well.

Philip stomped his foot, harshly hissing out, "YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN BE HAVING ANY RELATIONS WITH HER AT ALL!"

"Shh, Philip!" Caleb quietly and quickly hissed out sternly, placing a finger on his lips. "No shouting in the house! You'll wake up the neighbors!"

Philip stomped his foot for a second time. "WE DON'T HAVE NEIGHBORS!"

"We do, too," Caleb calmly argued, referring to Mr. Kookman and his wife.

A frustrated groan escaped Philip. "It's all that witch's fault. She's the reason why we're even having this argument. Vile snake. This is precisely why I told Mr. Hopkins about her!"

"Oh, you did?" Caleb rolled his eyes. "Wow, Philip, I'm so surprised."

Philip's face displayed a great deal of irritation at his brother's sarcastic tongue.

"I have a question, Philip. This Matthew Hopkins. You hold him in high regard, but how do you know that he isn't a witch himself? I mean, have you ever seen his ears before?"

Philip's blood started boiling. "Shut up!" the brunette shouted.

"Don't talk about him like that! He's not a witch, ****** is! You're just jealous because Mr. Hopkins is more of a man than you'll ever be!"

"You're right, Philip. I'm not a man," Caleb stated flatly. "I'm an exhausted teenage boy who's been caring for you for years and works his tail off every day to ensure we have enough food and money to live a decent life."

Philip huffed. "Don't tell me what I already know."

Caleb narrowed his eyes. "Then don't yell at me," he told Philip.

"I can yell at you if I want to!" Philip barked.

Not appreciating the tone of voice that Philip was using to speak to him, Caleb sighed and rolled his eyes once more.

"I don't have time for this," he said, deciding to walk past his brother and head downstairs to the front door.

Frowning, Philip followed after him.

Upon his arrival at the door, he opened it and witnessed his brother already heading in the direction of the forest.

Philip felt his body shake with an unfettered rage as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

With venom in his voice, he viciously shouted, "You're a terrible brother!" before slamming the door with all his might.

Caleb halted and looked back at the house, sadness starting to fill his stomach.

He couldn't deny how hearing those words from Philip's mouth had a negative impact on his soul.

It genuinely broke his heart.

He would have to patch things up with Pip once he returned home, but right now, he had a date waiting for him in the clearing to get to, and he was already so late.

Sighing deeply, Caleb continued forward.

...

The next morning, Caleb struggled to shake off the memory of the fight he had with Philip last night, the words 'You're a terrible brother', still ringing nonstop in his head.

Was Philip's statement a result of frustration, or was he truly a bad older brother?

Did simply falling in love with a witch as kind and faithful as ****** make him a monster?

Caleb thought about it for a bit before breathing out a saddened sigh. He was unsure at this point as he got up to get ready for the day.

...

Making his way downstairs in his work attire, which consisted of a pair of brown overalls over a white top with brown boots, Caleb turned into the hallway before entering the dining room.

Upon seeing Philip, his lips curled up in a proud smile.

"Wow, Pip! You made those on your own?" Caleb asked, referring to the scrambled eggs sitting on the frying pan that Philip slid onto his plate. "They look good!"

"I only made enough for one," Philip answered coldly as he took a seat.

"Oh..." Caleb could detect the hurt that Philip was trying to mask in his voice, taking a seat as well.

The blonde smiled sadly. "That's fine! I wasn't really hungry anyways."

Silence reigned at the table between the two brothers for a bit, with neither speaking to the other.

The only sound that could be heard was Philip chewing his food.

Caleb sighed, being the first to break the silence by asking with a low-spirited smile, "So, Pip, I was wondering, after I return home from work today, would you perhaps want to play a game of witch--"

The chair that Philip sat in suddenly screeched.

"I have to go," were the only words that Philip said as he stood up and walked toward the front door.

"Oh? Leaving so soon? You hardly touched your breakfast. Where are you going, Pip?" Caleb tried his best to hide the pain in his voice as he asked this.

"Anywhere but here," Philip spat out as he left, closing the door behind him.

"O-Oh...," Caleb utterly out quietly, turning his saddened gaze to the barely eaten plate of eggs.

He sighed once more, taking the plate to finish the food himself.

...

After completing his day's work and receiving payment from the herder who he had helped herd his various dopey kids (baby goats) down a fertile grassland, Caleb expressed gratitude, said goodbye to the herder, and headed towards town.

While walking, the eldest went into a train of thought, trying to think of ways to make his brother happy with him once more and repair their relationship.

Initiating an apology would be a good start, but Philip would always breathe out a vex huff and walk away sharply before Caleb could even get one out.

Still thinking, Caleb took a downcast gaze at the small, bronze-colored pouch of coins he had in his pocket.

Although not much, it was certainly enough to buy a...

The blonde then began to notice that he was nearing the bakery before smiling, his eyes gleaming with an idea.

Philip Wittebane had the biggest sweet tooth known to man, and his brother could confirm this, which meant that not even he could say no to a sweet baked treat.

Stopping at the shop's window, Caleb began to view the various pies on display.

Apple, pumpkin, sugar cream custard, meat pies, pear pies, ah-ha!

Caleb's brown eyes spot his and Philip's favorite flavor of pie sitting prominently in the center of the display, with a label beside it that reads 'Maple Buttermilk Pie'.

A wave of nostalgia hits Caleb instantly, as he recalls with great fondness his mother always preparing maple buttermilk pie in the kitchen along with the meal for the evening.

The dessert was a family favorite in the Wittebane household, and every time Patience Wittebane presented it to her husband and two boys at the table, she would do so with a tender smile of a loving mother.

Caleb's thoughts drifted back more and more to his mother and father, his smile slowly going down as he sighed.

Their disappointment would be evident if they were to see him and Philip in the present day, given that their relationship seemed to be hanging on its last thread.

Being the caring parents that they were, Cadman and Patience would want nothing more than their boys to come together and reach a compromise, and Caleb knew this.

The blonde kept his gaze fixed on the pie while pondering.

Perhaps buying Philip a piece would help him realize that as well, even if the pie probably won't have the same maternal sweetness as their mother's.

Just before Caleb could make his way into the shop, he saw a familiar figure whom he loved dearly in the reflection of the window.

She walked past without noticing him with her hood down, her ears round and human, as she held hands with one of the boys who assisted some of the merchants and tradesmen in town.

This freckled face boy had short brown hair, along with a white top, cream-colored breeches, dark brown boots, and a big flirtatious smile dancing on his lips.

****** and the boy seemed to be leaving town as they headed towards the woods.

Now, unlike his brother, Caleb was not one to jump straight to conclusions, but he did raise a confused brow at this.

'That witch is being unfaithful,' Philip said in Caleb's mind, his words echoing in his head.

Caleb quickly dismissed the thought.

Although he didn't want to believe what his brother had previously said, it... also wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the two.

Walking away from the bakery, Caleb secretly follows the pair out of town and into the woods, taking small steps while keeping quiet to avoid detection.

'You're not spying on them,' Caleb tried to convince himself, but guilt and worry were evident on his face as he continued.

'You're just...' He took a small breath. 'Keeping a watchful eye on them because you're curious, that's all.'

Once ****** and the boy reached the clearing together, Caleb quickly dove into the nearest, non-prickly bush, poking his head out to observe the two.

They took a seat together in the grass, the two face-to-face with their legs crossed, and the boy began to talk at length to ****** about his day as she regained her pointed ears once more with magic.

****** showed interest in the boy's story, especially when he added a sense of humor and a touch of good-hearted sarcasm to his words, as she smiled and giggled affectionately at him.

Once the boy had finished talking, ****** held out her index finger and whistled out to Little Rascal, who soon came gliding down from the sky, landing precisely on the boy's head.

This surprised both ****** and the boy, amused looks now crossing their faces as they watched Little Rascal open his curved beak before giving a light yank on a strand of the boy's hair, causing both him and ****** to laugh cordially at the raven's silly antics.

Once he felt at ease enough to do so, Little Rascal flapped down and settled himself in the small open space inside the boy's crossed legs.

The boy smiled at this as he began to give soothing rubs against the back of the black bird's neck with his hand.

Little Rascal opened and closed his beak in fondness at the soft touches, letting out light croaks.

****** viewed the tender interaction with a soft smile and decided it was the perfect opportunity to introduce the two to each other.

Upon witnessing ****** and the boy's friendly behavior towards one another, Caleb couldn't resist smiling along with them.

The sight of his beloved making friends with humans was truly a delight to see.

...

When Caleb gradually woke up from his sleep, he proceeded to let out a yawn and slowly noticed his right cheek resting against the green shrubbery of the bush he was still in.

As he turned his gaze towards the sky, he saw stars glowing against an inky, black abyss and soon realized that he had been asleep for quite some time.

Before he could step out of the bush, Caleb caught sight of a floating light passing through the leaves of a nearby tree.

With wide eyes, he quickly darted them in the direction of ****** and the boy... and the blonde's heart instantly dropped, his entire form frozen seeing... Caleb blinked twice, genuinely baffled.

His gaze laid on the sight of ****** and the boy being close. Their hands were on each other's backs as their cheeks flushed bright red. They moved slowly to the rhythm that only they could hear in their heads as they stepped on light glyphs with each spin of their dance.

The light glyphs surrounding them took on the shape of a large heart and ****** and the boy felt their smiles grow. They grew closer to each other.

"No...," Caleb whispered in pure shock, blinking back the tears that were forming inside his ducts.

Before he knew it, he witnessed the two slowly lean in towards each other before sharing a breathless kiss.

A small gasp escaped from Caleb, the blonde covering his mouth with both hands as he shook his head in disbelief, tears pouring down his cheeks.

The pain he felt was indescribable and something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

He couldn't believe it... His brother was right... ****** truly was unfaithful to him.

Caleb took a few steps back, not paying attention as he nearly tripped on a vine before taking off through the forest, silently sobbing to himself.

Both ****** and the boy's dance were interrupted as they heard the rustling of a bush along with the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor, but when they both turned around, whatever had been there was gone.

...

"Her eyes... shared the same color as copper ...," Philip narrated to himself in a gentle tone, noting that very significant detail as he began to add it to a blank parchment page in his journal using a quill with brown ink.

The brunette was sitting at the dining room table, with an oil lamp sitting on top of it, the lamp illuminating the area enough for him to see his work.

He also had an assortment of colored ink bottles on the table that were gifted to him by his brother on his birthday, but he hadn't found the time to use them until today.

Philip felt the need to provide more detail about these stunning copper eyes.

He soon said, "They were like infinite pools of beauty, and undoubtedly warm and inviting."

Recently, Philip had been dreaming about a girl whom he had developed feelings for and thought that she was the most exquisite girl in the world.

In his dreams, the girl would appear to him like an angel from heaven.

Her smile was pure and kind, and she would always offer him her hand to take, but whenever Philip reached out to take it, she suddenly dissipated, and the dream abruptly ended soon after.

Luckily, Philip was able to capture and remember enough of the angelic girl's appearance before she vanished.

He wished that he had been able to learn her name, though, so that he could properly address her.

As he continued his narration, he sketched and colored what he described as his heart skipped a beat, with his words being vivid and flowery.

"Her skin tone was sun-kissed by the sun and heavens. Her glasses were rectangular and fit her adorable, round face perfectly. Her figure..."

Philip gave thought to it for a bit, heat quickly rushing up to his entire his face as his stomach rolled.

"Full and unique." There weren't any girls his age in Gravesfield with such a pretty body shape.

"Her hair was long, dark, and had waves like those of the ocean. Her lips were full, and her smile..."

It made Philip grow a soft one of his own. "Was unforgettable."

After completing the details of the girl's wedding dress, Philip looked at his finalized work with a glow in his eyes.

If he could and was old enough, he would definitely make her his betrothed, and as her loving husband, he would always love and cherish her for the rest of their days together.

He would kiss and hug her non-stop and would always be there for her and act as a provider for both her and their lovely little family (he was already turning beet red at the thought of them having many children together).

He would also make her soothing tea on sick days and lean over and kiss her forehead and...

Philip's mind was filled with a multitude of sweet and wholesome thoughts. He's never felt such happiness before.

His parents made him very happy when they were alive, and so does Caleb... for the most part, but this happiness was on a whole other level.

It was different... and very special.

As he picked up his journal, Philip held it in front of his face, his attention still on the girl of his dreams.

Despite already knowing, he looked to his left and right to ensure he wasn't being watched.

Philip soon shut his eyes and puckered his lips, trembling slightly as he began to lean forward.

His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were merely centimeters away from touching the page.

Suddenly, a faint knock came from the front door.

Philip squeaked, dropping his journal immediately as flush covered the entirety of his face.

After taking a few breaths, calming his racing heart down, Philip soon frowned, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door.

Walking over to the front door, he swung it open.

Philip huffed, crossing his arms together.

"I'm still not talking to y--" Philip went immediately silent as his eyes fell upon his brother standing there, his entire being seemingly consumed by an overwhelming amount of sadness and heartbreak.

The youngest also took notice of the eldest's wet eyes, which were red from a relentless amount of crying and held a great deal of pain in them.

"C-Caleb...?" Philip whispered in surprised, genuinely concerned for his brother as he tried his best not to panic, though it was evident in his visage.

In response, Caleb's lip began to quiver as he quickly rushed up to Philip, collapsing into the brunette's arms, as he began to sob violently, his entire body shaking with emotion.

"Oh, Philip," Caleb began woefully, his tone broken. "Y-You were right about her. I-I'm..." He stopped to sniffle intensely before continuing.

"I'm so sorry for ever doubting your words when you told me the truth that day. I'm... I'm just so sorry for being such a terrible older brother in general, Pip. W-Would you ever be willing to forgive me?" Caleb pleaded desperately, unsure if forgiveness was something he even deserved at this point.

Philip's heart shattered into pieces at the sound of his older brother's voice.

He was sad, yes, but also very scared.

While it's true that he has seen Caleb cry and be sad before, it was never to this extent.

This vulnerability of Caleb's was new to him.

As Philip, still stunned, began to wrap protective arms around his brother, he couldn't lie.

His inner self was displaying the greatest smug smile on his face.

Inner Philip urged his outer self to tell his brother that he told him so.

That he was silly and naive for even thinking that a witch of all things could ever be faithful, but Philip had to suppress that inner voice, as such words would only heighten Caleb's hurt.

Right now, what Caleb needed was strength, and Philip would provide that strength for him to the best of his ability.

"That's not even a question, Caleb," Philip expressed in a gentle murmur, holding his brother. "Of course I forgive you."

Caleb's sins were never a factor in Philip's willingness to forgive him repeatedly.

The eldest has forgiven him plenty of times before, so it was only fair for him to do the same.

After all, neither brother was perfect, and they both had a lot to work on.

"I'm sorry for calling you a terrible brother. That's not true at all. You're a wonderful brother who does his best every day." Philip wouldn't trade Caleb for anyone in the entire the world.

"Also, you are not to blame for this plight, Caleb. You were simply bewitched. Bewitched by..." Philip's brows furrowed as he scowled. "Her...," he mentioned, grumbling angrily under his breath as he thought about ******.

"I hate her...," Philip growled lowly. "I hate her so much. She needs to be taught a harsh lesson and face cruel judgment."

Philip gave his brother some intense eye contact, his cold, blue eyes burning with vengeance. "Caleb, you must turn her in."

"Turn her in?" Caleb sniffled as he looked at his brother with an uncertain gaze. "I mean, I could, but..." The blonde paused, thinking a bit before sighing. "I don't know, Philip...," he spoke, his tone tentative.

"But Caleb." Philip's lips formed a small frown.

"She betrayed and hurt you without any concern. She took your trust and discarded it for her own personal pleasure. She's vile, an unfaithful wench. The feelings she had for you were false and all a part of her hex. She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will."

This cold, hard truth hit Caleb like a hurricane, his thoughts drifting to the times that he and ****** spent together.

...

The first time they met in the clearing and formed an unlikely friendship soon after.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

Their first night together. ****** showed Caleb illusions about her life, while Caleb shared a bit about his life afterward.

They then gazed at the star-filled sky together while holding hands.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

The evening when Caleb curled up and slept next to ******'s side as the fireplace flickered with light and warmth.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

The slow dance they shared that fateful night... and the kiss they share--

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

...

Caleb soon shuts his eyes, tears slipping down from them.

Those memories, while dear to him, are now in the past.

Suddenly, Caleb heard a dark chuckle escape him, and a slowly but surely malice smile played on his lips.

"Fine, I will."

"It's what she deserves, dear brother." A cold chuckle escaped Philip, the younger pleased by his older brother's decision.

Meanwhile, his inner Philip was brimming with excitement as his eyes shimmered.

He was quite literally bouncing off the walls in his mind because of how cool Outer Caleb now appeared.

Perhaps he should be thankful that ****** chose to be unfaithful since it awoke the vindictive witch hunter in his brother.

"And I know exactly how you can do so."

While whispering in Caleb's ear, Philip shared his plan for how Caleb could turn ****** in before revealing the deal he made with Mr. Hopkins.

As he listened, Caleb nodded along to what he heard, grinning darkly.

...

The next day dawned warmer and brighter for ****** the witch as she, with her hood up, spent her morning near the forest's lake, happily hunting for the sparkliest stone she could find in the water.

Rumors have been swirling in her world that human stones may contain garnets.

Suddenly, ******'s eyes were shielded from behind by warm hands.

"Hmph?" she hummed faintly in confusion, a question mark appearing above her head as a sight gag.

"Guess who?" chimed a cheery voice with a British accent that ****** was all too familiar with as she giggled.

Once the hands were taken from her eyes, ****** turned around and saw a smiling Caleb standing before her.

"Hello, my love," he greeted as an elated ****** beamed, attempting to give Caleb a kiss on the cheek, only for the blonde to take a swift step back.

"Hmph?" ****** tilted her head at her beloved's decision to back away from her.

"Uh, love," Caleb began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

He tried his best to keep eye contact with ****** as he asked, "I have a question. Have you perhaps..."

A hand reached up to scratch the back of his head as he continued. "Oh, I don't know, met with any other humans besides my brother and I? Any at all?"

Brown eyes shifted swiftly to the right before looking back at ******.

Caleb's smile weakened when she shook her head and smiled innocently at him. "A-Are you sure?" he asked again, his tone uneasy, almost heartbroken.

After ****** gave him another shake of her head, Caleb sighed and shut his eyes, deciding to proceed with what he had planned to do. "Very well then."

****** continued to smile.

She wanted to keep the other two humans she met a surprise and have them meet Caleb later today.

After shooting ****** an unreadable look, Caleb reached behind his back, retrieving a black blindfold as he soon tied it around ******'s head to cover her eyes.

The witch hummed a second time in confusion, tilting her head once more.

"Oh, why are you blindfolded, you ask?"

Caleb chuckled calmly, almost too calmly.

"Simple, love. I wish to take you somewhere special. It's a surprise, though. You like surprises, right?"

****** gasped. A surprise? For her? Eee! She vigorously nodded.

"Splendid! Let's get going then. I'll be your eyes and lead you there safety. You have my word."

Taking ******'s hand, Caleb took lead, treading through the forest.

During their walk, they pass a tall tree that Little Rascal is perched on a branch of as the raven watches them from above.

He doesn't think much of seeing Caleb enter the woods with his owner since they are on good terms.

After a small croak comes out of him, he decides to shut his eyes and drift into a small nap, half asleep and half awake.

...

With each step she took, ****** heard the crunching of twigs and plant debris cease as she now walked down a fresh new path.

Despite being unable to see it, her feet felt the familiarity of it.

"We're getting closer, love," Caleb informed her as he led her into town, ****** letting out a quiet squeal of excitement.

A sudden roar of applause came from the various townspeople in the marketplace as Caleb walked down with, from their standpoint, the guilty temptress who's been wreaking havoc in their sacred town.

Shining an anxious smile, Caleb kindly gestured with one hand for them to bring their cheers down a bit.

After all, he wanted ****** to be unaware of the fact that he was essentially leading her towards her death.

Her death.

****** ... dead.

'Turn back,' a soft voice of reason that sounded much like his own pleaded in the back of Caleb's head. 'Turn around. Don't go through with this. Please. It's not right. This isn't you. ****** doesn't deserve it.'

Caleb bit his lip but quickly shook the voice away, trying to shift his high anxiety into something more austere.

That voice was incorrect. This was indeed him. He was a witch hunter, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

...

"... You can sit down now," Caleb instructed in an unfriendly grumble to ****** as she abided, having a seat at... wherever she was.

Where was she exactly?

A shop? A store? Inside a home?

Regardless of where she was, she knew that she and Caleb were not the only ones present, as the atmosphere was filled with the tension of others.

****** heard whispers and hushed voices coming from all angles of, she assumed, the room.

She also felt not one, not two, not even three, but several sets of eyes on her.

****** soon sensed her blindfold being untied, and when the piece of black cloth fell, she opened her squeezed eyes and blinked, taking in... they immediately widened in disbelief.

She tried to feel her hands, only to see that they were bound.

The witch's form turned frozen as she was now stuck in a state of shock at what she saw, dread and panic rushing through her veins.

She felt her upper belly grow sore and her pale face got even paler.

****** slowly stood up.

She was... in the center of... a human courtroom? Yes, a courtroom. But... why? Why would Caleb take her to here of all places? Was... was this the "surprise" location that he was talking about?

****** felt her heart break.

Her nerves were causing her bile sac to not work despite her desperate desire to disappear and escape the room.

As she slowly viewed the court, ****** observed Caleb sitting with his brother at a round table to her right.

To her left, she saw a human man with a hat and beard who had the biggest look of triumph on his face.

His ears were also tucked and hidden beneath his hair.

Mr. Town Minister, sitting on the judge's bench, began to speak, his voice loud and commanding as he asked, "Witch, state your name for the court--"

Matthew Hopkins acted quickly, wasting no time in briskly standing from his seat to intervene.

"Objection, your highness!" The general crossed his arms, frowning a childish frown. "We don't care."

The gallery was filled with whispers of agreement, with some nodding in line with Hopkins' statement.

"Hmm...," hummed the minister in thought for a second before agreeing. "He's right," he said, taking Hopkins' side as he continued. "We don't care."

Hopkins sent an antagonizing smirk towards ****** as he stuck his tongue out at her.

The witch wasn't afraid to send him a glare, fiercely furrowing her brows at him.

Mr. Town Minister turned his gaze to Caleb.

"Caleb Wittebane, please step forward."

Caleb slowly stood, walking towards the center with a pacing heart and a head filled with certainties and uncertainties.

One part of his mind argued that he had to proceed with this. The opposing side asserted that he didn't.

The townsfolk in the gallery watched as the blonde stood next to the accused.

Caleb adjusted his gaze slightly to concentrate on her and started to stare.

'Wow,' he thought to himself, his inner self flushing some.

'Even when she's likely to come face-to-face with death today, she still looks so pretty and radiant.'

Wait... why was he thinking that?!

When ****** looked at Caleb briefly, their communication was silent.

His stare turned sour meeting hers, his gaze mixed with anger and hurt, meanwhile ******'s gaze was shattered, silently questioning Caleb why he was doing this.

His look huffed, 'Don't play dumb. You know precisely why.'

Mr. Town Minister cleared his voice before speaking. "You have been summoned to speak about this witch who has been consorting with the Devil's work throughout our great town. Is it true that she not only bewitched you but is also an advanced witch?"

Caleb looked over to Philip, who smiled encouragingly while his eyes looked worried, pleading for the oldest to say the right thing.

He then looked to Matthew Hopkins, eagerly awaiting the exposure of the witch.

Finally, Caleb gave once last glance to ******.

With tears nearing her eyes, she wordlessly begged the blonde not to do this.

This isn't you, spoke her eyes under her bangs.

Caleb sighed as his gaze returned to the minister.

Despite his guilt, he stood firm, refusing to let his emotions dictate his decision.

He's not sorry.

Taking a breath, Caleb revealed, "Yes, Mr. Minister. That is true. She... did bewitch me. And..."

Caleb looked to Philip again, who gestured for him to pull ******'s hood down.

He sighed once more. "And... she is..." Caleb's hand went to yank ******'s hood off her head, exposing her pointed ears to the court. "An advanced witch."

An audible gasp escaped those in the gallery as they directed their shocked eyes at ******'s ears.

Fathers were forced to cover their children's eyes (although they tried to peek), as mothers had to soothe their crying babies.

Matthew Hopkins also gasped, in the most overdramatic way, of course, pretending to be shocked by the reveal. "And a collective gasp fills the courtroom," he narrates with a sly smirk.

The Minister's nose scrunched up immediately in disgust at the sight of the unnatural shape of the witch's ears.

"You may be seated," he told Caleb, who nodded before walking back to his seat.

Sitting down, he tried not to give any attention to the tears rolling down ******'s cheeks as regret clawed at his chest.

After a loud bang from his gavel, Mr. Town Minister said sternly, with not a hint of empathy in his voice, "Nameless witch, based on the reactions of today's trial, this court finds you..."

The minister held his words in the air for about 20 seconds, even though everyone knew what he was going to say.

"Guilty for the crimes of witchcraft and being an advanced witch, as well as causing the infants in the courtroom to cry. You are condemned to be burned at the stake. May your soul slowly decay in Heck with your creator."

The trial comes to a close as the minister hits his gavel again.

...

Present day sees Philip approach his brother's bedside, standing there with a sad, sympathetic expression on his face.

"Caleb," Philip spoke, a sense of gentle care and worry in his voice. "You must stop being sad about that witch. It's not beneficial for you."

...

Upon the last faint glow of the sun over the horizon, the entire town gathered in the square with eager anticipation of the death that was about to occur.

The crowd roared with cheers as three townsmen led the guilty ****** to the wooden platform, some shouting insults towards the teen witch.

Standing on said platform, Caleb was alongside Matthew Hopkins and other witch hunters, with the town minister coming to take a stand.

As he watched ****** being tied to the stake, the blonde made an effort to suppress any sympathy he felt.

Following the minister's proclamation and Hopkins' self-absorbed speech, Caleb was presented with a torch by the minister, who honored him with the task of sending the temptress where she belonged.

Fingers closed around the torch's handle hesitantly as Caleb turned to face ******, appearing cold and unsympathetic.

Tears streamed down the witch's face as she silently begged Caleb to show her mercy.

She did not wish for him to do this.

She loved him.

'Her tears are deceitful,' Caleb told himself. 'Just like her.'

His mind screamed at him to light the pyre and end this, but his body refused to comply.

At this point, Caleb was uncertain about what to do.

Is it better for him to listen to his head... or his heart?

"Oh, give it here!" Matthew Hopkins snatched the torch out of Caleb's hand, who was too occupied with glaring daggers at ****** to react.

He huffed. "You're taking far too long, Caius."

Hopkins lowered the torch and ignited the wood beneath ******'s feet in a matter of seconds.

Afterward, the flames roared, consuming the witch completely, and she screamed an agonizing scream from the burning fire.

As the fire rose, ****** felt herself cook in the flames.

During her last moments of life, she saw the boy who brought so much happiness and joy into her life look at her with anger and tears.

The human beside him just smirked, bidding her goodbye with a small wave of his hand.

Philip stuck out in the crowd like a sore thumb to ****** as he stared directly at her.

As her eyes slowly closed, she witnessed the brunette giving her a chilling smile, his blue eyes bright and glowing with contentment.

...

"Oh, Philip," Caleb quietly choked out, still faced away from his brother as he was unable to fight back the tears that soon poured down his eyes.

He sniffled. "You just don't understand..."

Philip furrowed his brows at Caleb's statement.

"And what is it that I don't understand, dear brother?" the brunette questioned in a smart aleck tone, sounding almost offended. "That you played a role in the witch's death? Because I do, Caleb Wittebane. Caleb bane of witches."

Caleb's anger started to rise as he swiftly rose up in bed, staring at Philip.

"You take that back right now!" Caleb growled.

Philip only smiled darkly and shook his head, refusing to take back his words.

"No," he retorted, making Caleb visibly more upset as he sighed.

"Oh, Caleb. Talking about that witch always brings out the worst in you, doesn't it?"

Caleb swiftly jumps out of bed.

"Hey! What are you...?" Philip watches Caleb rush over to his bed and swipe his journal.

"Oh, Philip, lookie what I have!" Caleb taunted with a massive grin, wiggling the book in a teasing manner.

Philip clenched his teeth. "Put my journal down now, you dumb witch lover!"

"Then take back what you said," Caleb commanded as he started flipping through pages.

"Never!" Philip shouted.

His older brother stopped at a particular page in his journal and stared at it for a bit.

It expanded his smug grin.

He showed it off to Philip. "Ooo, who's this, Pip?" he asked, referring to the drawing of his dream girl. "Your imaginary girlfriend, I assume?"

Philip's face immediately burned red with rage and embarrassment.

"At least I have one!" he spat. "Unlike you...," he mumbled with a huff.

"I'll give you one last chance to take back what you said, Philip, otherwise..."

Caleb shined a bold, playful grin. "She'll be mine."

He held the dream girl near his lips to show that he was serious with his threat.

"No. she. won't!" Philip hissed out in unbridled anger.

Caleb noticed that Philip had something in his hand and turned his attention to his left hand to see a crooked dagger that was tightly gripped.

The blonde's eyes widened as he lowered the journal and took a step back, alarm on his face.

"A dagger?" Caleb took a cautious step back, keeping a close eye on the weapon.

He gently set the journal back on Philip's bed.

"Philip, what are you doing with a dagger?"

He usually saw Philip with one of his old carving knives, but never a dagger.

Philip was taken aback when he saw the dagger in his left hand.

He hadn't even realized that he had instinctively pulled it out.

Putting it away, he mumbled out, "It was a gift."

"A gift? From who?"

"None of your business, that's who!"

Caleb shook his head with a tired and heavy sigh, pressing his fingers against his temples.

He was far too distraught about ******'s death to even contemplate the knife his brother had.

Trudging to bed, he stood near his bedside and collapsed over it.

His sadness quite literally weighed him down as his sulking began.

"******...," Caleb whispered her name regretfully, his face pressing into his bed, making him sound muffled as he continued his mourning.

Philip merely rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatics, his face dour.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." Caleb shook his head in despair, his voice trembling.

"Your infectious smile, your wonderful laughter, all gone. It's all gone... because of me. Unfaithful or not, you didn't deserve the faith that was dealt to you. I... I..."

He sobbed. "I didn't even get to see the Demon Realm with you."

"Demon... Realm?" Philip raised a confused brow at what his brother was whining about. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's where ****** lives. Well, used to live now," Caleb sadly explained with a sniffle.

"To get there, she used a special key, the one she always wore around her neck, that unlocks a magical door. Although I was never able to witness her use the key, she told me that's how it worked."

Caleb began to ponder whether or not he should have revealed that information to his brother.

Demon Realm...? Special keys...? Magical doors...?

Philip narrowed his brows at his griping brother, speaking sharply to him.

"Caleb Wittebane... this entire time, you knew of a realm filled with advanced witches existed... and yet you didn't decide to tell me?"

"Well, now you know!" Caleb cried out, his voice cracking with emotion as he tried to cease his shaking.

Philip rolled his eyes once more.

"Furthermore, what did you mean by when you said you didn't get to see the Demon Realm with her? What? Were you going to leave me here forever to go be with her?" Philip hoarsely asked.

"Leave you forever?" Caleb lifted his face from his mattress to look at Philip. "Of course not," he answered truthfully. "My sole intention was to visit for a day."

Philip did not appear to accept Caleb's claim.

"Caleb...," Philip began, his voice so gruff and serious that it made a shiver run up the eldest's spine as he listened.

Blue eyes suddenly flashed in a blaze of excitement.

"We have to go find that key! We simply must! Imagine if we did!? We'd look for that magical door next and open it. Once we're in the Demon Realm, we would go on a witch massacre, obliterating every witch in sight. I even say we should wipe the realm in its entirety. Once we do, we'd return home and show everyone in town our accomplishment! We'll be heroes, Caleb! Heroes!" Philip cheered.

The brunette swiftly rushed over to the closet door, opening it as he grabbed his most favorite jacket.

"I'm certain ****** still has that silly key around her neck."

Philip continued.

"She was probably tossed and buried in some unmarked grave in the town burial ground."

A twisted chuckle left Philip at the thought, slipping his jacket on.

The very thought made Caleb's stomach drop.

Philip soon began tying up his hair before suggesting determinedly, "Let's go dig her up and rip that key right off her neck! It'll be fun, Caleb, and it might even make you feel better."

Caleb highly doubted that would fix his heartache as he sighed. "Philip," the blonde began as he stood up, walking over to the closed window curtains.

"You know what happens every October 31st in Gravesfield," Caleb informed with gentle sternness, opening the curtains while still looking at Philip, not reacting to the two pale-ish green specters that used to be humans, accused of witchcraft, shambling by.

Their eyes glowed red, their skin was ashen and blotchy, and a deep bruise radiated out from their throats.

A sight gag commences, the scene pausing to display a set of blackletter words being written on screen in ink that reads:

'Every October 31st, during the night, the Puritans who were accused of witchcraft and hanged for their 'crimes' come back from the dead to seek revenge on the living. This is a curse that has a negative impact on the town of Gravesfield. Everyone is told to stay indoors until the next morning during the invasion, as that's when it ends.'

"It's too dangerous to go out there," Caleb frowned.

Philip simply chuckled in overconfidence, his brave face being genuine.

"The undead don't frighten me, Caleb. And besides, I have this!" Philip whipped out his dagger before dashing out of the room.

His footsteps were heard as he ran downstairs.

"Hey!" Caleb exclaimed, rushing to the closet to grab his jacket as he attempted to put it on while chasing after Philip.

"Don't leave the house without me!"

...

Philip and Caleb cautiously walked through the town burial ground, carrying shovels in their hands and keeping their distance from the undead that staggered around.

Caleb experienced a feeling of numbness as he inhaled the cold air before exhaling with a sigh.

Was this a horrible idea?

Of course it was, Caleb acknowledged in his head, yet the oldest Wittebane would continue onward with his brother.

"We've already dug up four unmarked graves so far, but ******'s body wasn't in any of them," Philip whispered to Caleb in slight frustration.

"Where could that witch be?" he wondered aloud.

Caleb sighed once more, his brown eyes surveying the area for more headstones without names.

Suddenly, gazing forward, he spotted a familiar black bird clinging to a stone that had no name on it.

The raven's posture was drooping, and it seemed to be mourning for the person who was below the ground.

Little Rascal...

"She's there." Caleb pointed to the bird and tombstone.

"What?" Philip glanced in that direction before returning his gaze to his brother. "Caleb, how do you know?"

"I...," Caleb paused before sighing. "I just have a gut feeling she's there," he explained before grinning mischievously.

"Let's take a look." He made an effort to show enthusiasm and interest for his brother.

Grinning back at Caleb, Philip nodded and followed his brother to the tombstone.

Little Rascal, taking note of the two human boys who were approaching, adjusted his posture and took a defensive position as he produced a harsh sound at them.

He was aware that both of these wicked witch hunters were responsible for his owner's demise as he witnessed her last moments from the sky, and he would not permit either of them to come near her.

The aggressiveness of Little Rascal's trill brought Caleb to a halt, as he felt horrible, guilt written all over face while ******'s death replayed in his mind.

Her pain-filled eyes, her excruciating screams, the sight of her burning away...

"Shoo, shoo!" Philip swung his shovel wildly at Little Rascal but missed several times as the bird managed to evade his attempts to harm him.

As he continued to miss, Philip produced irritated grunts. He once again raised his shovel over his shoulder. "Stand still so I can kill you already, you stupid bird!" Philip screamed.

Bringing his shovel down, Philip managed to strike Little Rascal with the back of the blade, knocking him down.

Caleb let out a small gasp, covering his mouth with his hand as he watched in shock the raven slowly taking in air, a green essence leaking from the small crack in his body.

When their eyes met, a pang of pain throbbed in Caleb's heart as Little Rascal gazed sadly and weakly at the blonde, disappointed in the human.

Rising slowly to his feet, wincing slightly at the pain, the raven gently spread his wings, flapping them as if he were a fledgling, as he took flight into the night sky.

"Caleb!" Caleb took his guilt-ridden gaze off of Little Rascal to look at Philip.

"I can't do this alone. Help me dig!" Philip was casually smiling as if he hadn't just injured an innocent animal.

"Oh! ... R-Right," Caleb replied with a weak smile as he began to help his brother shovel out the soil of ******'s grave.

Following the removal of all the dirt, the brothers saw ****** sleeping eternally in the hole that was made for her.

Philip grimaced at her appearance, pinching his nose with his index and thumb, while Caleb gazed softly at her with a melancholic expression on his face.

Her pale skin was now a sickly, blotchy green color, with scars and blisters from her burns covering her from head to toe.

'Even in death, ******...,' Caleb spoke softly to himself, words of genuine love and deep regret spilling out in his tone.

His hands slowly reached towards ******'s neck. 'You still look like an angel...,' Caleb said, removing her key necklace from off of her.

Slipping it into his pocket, he smiled a faint yet gentle smile down at the corpse.

Wherever ****** was, be it Heaven, Heck, or in-between, Caleb hoped that she was at peace and the happiest she's ever been.

Happy...

If only he could--

Whack!

The blonde jolted at the impact sound, turning to look at Philip.

His brother had just delivered a sharp blow to ******'s face with the back of his shovel.

Caleb's eyes narrowed at the youngest. "Philip!" he angrily hissed.

"What?" Philip chuckled with an innocent smile, shrugging his shoulders. "She's already dead," he tried to justify.

Caleb huffed as he gave a roll of his eyes, shaking his head as annoyance started to consume him.

With his shovel, Caleb removed some dirt from the pile that he and Philip had created and deposited it back into ******'s grave, ultimately returning all of it.

She was completely concealed as Caleb sighed out a little white cloud.

"Alright, Pip. Let's go h--"

"Uhhhhggghhh..."

Caleb swiftly turned his gaze to Philip, shooting him the stink eye. "Philip, that's not funny," he sternly stated.

"Uh, C-Caleb...," Philip stuttered in fear, pointing a trembling finger behind his brother.

"Th-Th-That wasn't me!"

"Huh?"

"Uhhhhggghhh..."

"Uhhhhggghhh...!"

"UHHHGGGHHHH!!!"

Caleb froze. He didn't dare look behind him, but when he slowly did, he saw...

His pupils dilated.

"AAAAAA!!!" screamed both Caleb and Philip in unison, waves of cold adrenaline flushing their bodies as they clinged to each other for dear life.

Now surrounding the Brothers Wittebane were a horde of the undead, the rotting beings releasing horrible hisses from their throats, craving human flesh.

The zombie in front of and closest to the boys opened his mouth, his yellow and decaying teeth on full display.

"AAAAA!!!" cried the boys once more, their grip tightening as they shut their eyes.

The zombie mob stumbled ahead, eager to savor their prey.

The nearest zombie leaned forward towards Philip and Caleb, opening his mouth wider as blood dripped down his non-existent lips, ready to take a significant bite out of the siblings.

That is until...

(Oh) I am the Candyman

(Oh) Comin' from Bountyland

(Oh) I am the Candyman

(Oh) Comin' from Bountyland

The unexpected, bubblegum dance-pop song ["Lollipop (Candyman)"] playing so suddenly and without warning in the background as a random gag acts as head shots to the zombies, with them moaning and groaning in pain, covering their ears.

Some even fall to their knees.

Sensing the absence of zombie bites on their bodies, Philip and Caleb slowly opened their eyes to see the zombies being physically enfeebled by... the strange music playing out of the blue?

I wish that you were my lollipop

Sweet things, I will never get enough

If you show me to the sugar tree

Will you give me a soda pop for free

Hearing it, they were equally confused as they slowly turned to look at each other.

However, they noticed that the song impeded the zombies from attacking them, and a knowing grin soon crept onto their faces.

Instinct kicked in as they formed a wordless plan and nodded in agreement to it.

Come with me, honey

I'm your sweet sugar Candyman

Run like the wind

Fly with me to Bountyland

Bite me, I'm yours

If you're hungry, please understand

This is the end of

The sweet sugar candyman

Both brothers proceeded at the same time, with Caleb moving to handle the zombies on the right and Philip moving to take care of the undead on the left.

One zombie was met with the back of Caleb's shovel to the face, his head being knocked clear off of his body as a colorful and dazzling explosion of hearts, rainbows, glitter, and blood shoots out the top of the zombie's headless neck.

Philip's shovel came crushing down on a zombie's head, and the same colorful and bloody essence came forth from her as she fell.

Oh, my love, I know you are my Candyman

And oh, my love, your word is my command

Oh, my love, I know you are my Candyman

And oh, my love, let us fly to Bountyland

Caleb and Philip's shovels remained effective in striking and bashing the undead, their strikes timing with the beat.

Caleb turned his gaze as he spotted a feral grin on Philip's face.

His clothes were stained with blood and rainbow glitter, blood splatter smeared across his cheeks.

Caleb, noting that his clothes and cheeks were in a similar state, smiled broadly at his brother, who smiled back at him.

Philip's glee was impossibly contagious, Caleb thought.

It's been a while since the two of them had such genuine fun like this.

...

The light of early morning was brought into the sky by dawn as it rose.

The undead, similar to the night, began to die down, resulting in the moving corpses becoming motionless once again.

One zombie, quite literally hoping around on its last leg as it faltered, was swiftly brought to an end with one powerful down strike to the head by both boys' shovels, with the song ending.

Caleb, looking to Philip, who shared the same smile and mischievous gleam in his eyes as him, gave his brother a playful ruffle to his hair.

Philip absorbs the affection, his aura brimming with confidence.

After a freeze frame captures the two brothers, the show transitions to an art nouveau style and displays Caleb and Philip's list of hobbies alongside them in blackletter.

At the end of their list of hobbies, another hobby is added with an invisible pen, this hobby being 'dismembering the undead'.

...

As they were walking home, Caleb and Philip reminisced and joked about the zombie battle, sharing their favorite parts with each other.

Upon reaching the front door, Caleb opened it, and both him and Philip stepped inside before freezing.

They were taken aback, even though they shouldn't be at this point, by the person they saw in their sitting room.

"Oh, hello!" Mr. Kookman turned to greet the boys with his usual smile, waving a hand at them that held a bar of soap.

His attire and some of his face were covered with the same blood and glitter that came from the zombies.

Henrietta let out a cluck, giving her feathers a gentle flap as she fluttered in the barrel bucket filled with soapy water.

"I hope you boys don't mind me giving my Henrietta a bath in here. She doesn't enjoy receiving baths during the invasion," Mr. Kookman told them.

Henrietta proceeded to cluck again.

That was Mr. Kookman's cue to lather her feathers. He turned back around to do so, even adding salt to the bathwater.

"Uh...," Caleb blinked twice. "N-Not at all," he answered politely, attempting not to sound befuddled as he motioned for Philip to follow him upstairs. "Just make sure to close the door on your way out."

The two were terribly tired after last night and needed some shut-eye.

They would clean themselves off after a long nap.

...

A boisterous family of witches hurry into their cottage, making it just in time before the boiling rain starts pouring down.

All of them sigh with relief, but sad looks soon appear on their faces.

One of the members of their close family has gone missing, and they've been looking all over the Boiling Isles for her for months.

She was a good daughter, a sweet sister, a fantastic student, and a wonderful witchlet.

She was ******.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

Siskoshir and 13 (discreetly) for the ask game? ❤️

thanks for the ask! <3 also oops i accidentally went waaay overboard. this isn't really explicitly romantic or platonic, so interpret it as you will. i think. i don't know what makes a kiss romantic tbh. it is what you decide it is!

A hand squeezed suddenly at Julian's shoulder, and he only barely suppressed a flinch.

"Chin up, Doctor," Sisko breathed into his ear, voice barely louder than Julian's own heartbeat. If he weren't augmented, he was quite certain he wouldn't have heard it at all. "We'll get out of here. Just hold on."

Then Julian felt something soft brush the back of his head, a gentle reassurance, and Sisko was gone again, vanished into the mass of prisoners and leaving only a trace of warmth behind.

--

"We won't be able to communicate openly, once we're in place," Sisko had warned, before everything began. "If they discover that we're associated - they are not known for their mercy. Are you certain you're up for this, Doctor?"

"I am," Julian said, determined. "I won't let you down."

He was the best choice for this type of mission, in his opinion. He'd survived Internment Camp 371, after all. He would survive this, too.

It would be better this time. Julian would have Sisko with him, and he'd be there for a reason, not trapped with little hope of escape.

--

Perhaps Julian had been - a touch overconfident.

In truth, he didn't know if he would have managed to complete his part of the infiltration, if it weren't for Sisko's gentle companionship.

Oh, they couldn't be seen openly together, of course, but the camp was crowded - and in a place where you could hardly move without brushing elbows with a stranger, it was hardly a crime for them to be near one another.

And so, Sisko began - touching. Just little brushes, at first, tracing fingers against wrist or bumping shoulder to shoulder. Little signs of comradery which - though Julian was loath to admit it - were doing a great deal to keep him grounded. Each time the noise or the stench or the aura of despair became suffocating, Sisko would appear and, unobtrusively, find some way to touch him, and suddenly he could breathe again.

Julian returned the favor whenever he could, and hoped that the contact was doing even half as much for Sisko as it was for him.

Then, almost a week into their unpleasant stay, Sisko pushed past him and brushed a kiss to his cheek, coupled with a light squeeze of his shoulder. The touch lasted hardly a moment, and to an observer, would certainly seem accidental - but to Julian it felt as bolstering as his first sight of DS9 after escaping the Internment Camp.

The next day, when the opportunity arose, Julian pressed a secret kiss to Sisko's wrist - and from there, swift kisses, chaste and discreet, were quickly adopted into their touching routine.

They were... nice, Julian decided. Pleasant.

He couldn't help but wonder if they would continue even once back on the Station.

He rather hoped they would.

____

for this ask game. i've got one left to write for it, but if anyone else wishes to send a request, i'm happy to do that, too!

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 6. Other Parts Word count: 6,1k words (Dear God) Short summary: There's drama, there's chaos, things get a little bit serious at one point, and then, a little bit of smut sprinkled on top. Basically: Reader+Sabo+Miscommunication= solved... kinda. AN: I've risen from hell, aka first semester of law & political science courses. In all seriousness, I'm so so grateful for the wonderful support all of you have given my cheesy little fic. I really appreciate the nice and understanding comments while I've been away. I had so much fun writing this last chapter whenever I had time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did <3 (Not proof read, will fix any spelling errors after I get some sleep)

MDNI 18+

___

Shit.

Y/N was practically sprinting through the hallways as soon as she had left the library. She must have looked insane to anyone that saw her.

She messed up, she messed up big time!

Not only did Y/N snap at the man who potentially wanted to torture her, possibly even kill her.

No, she also left the book on the table. The book that had “Outdoor Survival” spelled with bold, bright orange letters on the front!

And Sabo wasn’t stupid, she knew that. By this point he must already have figured out what she was planning, and was probably plotting some kind of sick, twisted way of making sure she couldn’t leave.

What if he locks her in a cell and throws away the key? Deprived her of ever seeing the sunlight again? 

No, Sabo wouldn’t really do that. Right?

Y/N let out a nervous laughter as she felt a shiver run down her spine. This wasn’t the time for guessing, she couldn’t risk staying a day longer at this godawful base. She just needed to gather a few more things, and then she was ready to start her new life. 

Preferably far far away from the sadistic blond devil that took pleasure in stalking and tormenting her. 

As she pushed the front door to the base open, unwelcome thoughts sneaked into her mind. 

A gorgeous, handsome, honey-voiced devil, with strong arms that could easily pin her down so he-

“NO NO NO! Stop fantasizing about him, you stupid,stupid girl! That’s insane behavior, you know it is never-” Y/N choked on her words “never going to happen...”

A loud sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders dropped forward, forehead leaning against the wall outside the building. Was this really a good idea? In truth, she felt completely unprepared to live out the rest of her days in the wilderness.

Maybe life as the Chief of Staff’s captive wouldn’t be so bad?

“Ha-ha, I must be losing my mind.” Y/N laughed nervously as she pushed herself up from her leaning position.

Staying wasn’t an option. But neither was going out into the forest unprepared. She looked around the busy town square.

“Now, where do I find something sharp…” 

___

“What are those two doing today?” Koala pondered as she looked out over the town.

She was resting her head against her hand, arm leaning over the windowsill, as her eyes closely followed Jane Doe. The girl had been running around the town for the past hour, gathering one strange thing after the other. 

Just as the girl slipped into another alleyway, Koala’s attention was caught by Sabo jumping out from a window, quickly moving over the rooftops with his steel pipe on his back. And she knew that could only spell trouble. Which meant, more paperwork for her.

Her so-called partner had taken his newfound hobby, stalking, to a whole other level these past few days. In a way it was kinda endearing seeing Sabo run around like a lovesick puppy. Some of the Revs had even started a pool, placing bets on how long it would take before those two finally got together… or until Jane Doe flat out rejected Sabo once and for all.

Koala found that highly unlikely though. The girl was obviously crushing hard, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Koala even suspected that the poor girl was so nervous that she was planning on running away, which would achieve absolutely nothing since Sabo would find her straight away. 

“But what do I know? Maybe this is just what happens when you have that kind of upbringing.…” Koala sighed “Still, Nobles are fucking weird.”

___

“Oh Dear God, that was a close call.” Y/N sighed as she turned the key to her bedroom door.

She had just managed to avoid Koala’s attempt to “have a talk”. Something she desperately wanted to avoid, because in her mind, “having a talk” could only mean one thing…

“I really hope Koala hasn’t found out too.” She said under her breath as she entered her bedroom.

"Find out about what?" 

An audible ‘eep’ escaped Y/N mouth as she heard the familiar voice, before she quickly put her hands over her mouth and took a step back from shock, her back hitting the now closed door. 

"How d-did you get in here… t-the door was locked." She said with a shaky voice as she eyed the blond man sitting on her bed.

"Window." Sabo shrugged. As if what he said wasn’t insane, or not even acknowledging that he had broken into her room! 

"We're on the third floor.” Y/N stuttered, still not completely comprehending her current situation.

Why? Why was this happening now? Why was he here? She was just coming back to gather her things, and then she was supposed to leave. 

She felt her heart beating faster as she glared at Sabo. 

"Breathe Angel, I was just returning what I took this morning…” He chuckled as he walked over to her dresser and put her neatly folded underwear on it.

‘Okay, great! Now, please leave, please.’ she prayed quietly in her head.

“And I have a question for you, so I waited until you got back." Sabo said with a bright smile, but she saw something flicker in his eye, and that couldn’t be good.

"Q-question?" She stuttered as he started to walk towards her " Wait, don't-" 

"Are you planning to run away, Y/N?" He was standing right in front of her, keeping her trapped between him and the door.

‘Wait, no-’ She felt her mind spiraling out of control. That name. Her name… No, no no no no.

"How do you-" A finger was placed over her mouth.

“Aa-aa, my question first, Y/N.”

“I don’t- that’s not-”

“It’s okay, I promise I’m not mad. But you don’t need to lie anymore Y/N.” Sabo gave her a kind, deceiving smile.

“Stop saying it!” She bursted out, trying to push him back. But he wasn’t bugging, instead he only moved closer to her.

“Oh, but it’s such a pretty name. Much better than Jane Doe. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” He chuckled with a dreamy expression, twirling her hair between two fingers. 

Y/N could only stare at Sabo with horror as she took in the almost obsessive look in his eyes and the faint smile over his lips. He knew he had won their “game”, and now he was acting like a cat, playing with his prey.

She could feel her breath quicken, how the panic spread through her mind… And honestly, though embarrassing to admit, she felt a little bit aroused. Which was a whole other issue in itself that she really needed to deal with if she somehow got out of this situation alive.

Because, she really shouldn’t be turned on by this!

Sabo let go of her hair and grazed his gloved hand against her cheek, making her flinch. To her surprise her reaction made him take a step back, giving her much needed space to breathe. He sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, almost making it look like he was concerned. 

“Please don’t worry, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide anymore. I personally made sure those people won’t come looking for you.” Sabo smiled, sounding kinda proud?

“People? Wait- What did you do?” Y/N was feeling a little confused. Had he really… He couldn’t have, right?

"It was quite easy actually, don’t know why I didn’t do this from the start. It would have saved me so. much. pent. up. frustration." His voice came out strained, almost like a moan. 

"I just made a few visits to some very disgusting bugs, before the information I gathered pointed me in the right direction." 

‘Disgusting bugs’ Nobles? Right direction? No-

She closely studied Sabo as he mindlessly wandered around the room, continuing his explanation.

"Your dad is a fucking coward, by the way. I barely stepped foot inside the castle before he surrendered both the country and more importantly, your name, in exchange for his own life.

You should have seen the look on his face when I introduced myself as his future son-in-law, it was fucking priceless." He laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. This man. Correction, this insane man had by himself broken into the castle of an enemy country and threatened the king of said country, just so he could learn what her name was? 

For what reason? So he could torture and then execute her with good conscious that he had done a thorough investigation beforehand? And what did he mean by ‘future son-in-law’?

She let out a nervous laughter, catching Sabo’s attention and making him walk towards her again. 

"Oh Angel, please don't be scared. We aren't going to meet the fuckers who put you through all of that anymore, I'll make sure of it. It will just be the two of us from now on." Sabo said with a calm tone as he tried pulling her into a hug, which she quickly dodged, so she was now standing in the middle of the room.

Holy fuck-

His statement made her realize what Sabo had been trying to do from the start. He was planning on keeping her alive. To be played with as his personal toy for the rest of her life. 

And what must be a very deranged part of herself actually felt relieved over that fact. She would at least get to see his gorgeous face every day. Even if it was when he was taking pleasure in torturing her, or something…

Dear God, that was so freaking messed up!

Sabo brought his hand to her cheek, giving her that kind, deceiving smile. She flinched away when she felt the cool touch of leather on her skin. His smile dropped, a confused wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

"Y/N, it isn’t me you're scared of, right?" He asked, giving her a serious look.

"No- I'm-" She took a step back, but Sabo quickly grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling her towards him.

"Yes you are. Why?" He asked again, the grip around her wrist becoming firmer.

Y/N looked around the room in a panic, her eyes landing on the doorknob. Why the fuck didn’t she just open the door and run away when she had the chance? Why didn’t she think about that before, you know… she was trapped and unable to escape.

She needed to use what little brain capacity she had left and figure something out. Think think think!

‘If a man ever bothers you, just pretend to faint. That’s what all the other ladies your age do.’

Her mother’s words swirled through her mind. Could that really work? Y/N pondered on the crazy idea only for a second before she decided that it was probably the best she could come up with in this situation.

She saw how Sabo quirk his eyebrow and loosened his grip a little just as she closed her eyes, put her hand against her forehead, let out an audible gasp and let her body fall limp to the floor.

___

For a moment, Sabo could only stare flabbergasted at the “fainted” Angel on the floor. He certainly hadn’t expected her to do…whatever it was that she was trying to do.

But he liked that she kept surprising him with her silly little acts, even if they still really needed to have a serious conversation about her running away… and you, allegedly being scared of him? What reason could she have to be scared? Had he been a little too blunt with his explanation about how he found out what her name was? 

No, he couldn’t have. He even purposely left out the bloody part, she didn’t need to know about that. And to be fair, he barely touched those disgusting bugs that had described  “the princess” as some kind of mindless trophy. Sabo had just made it very clear that he couldn’t stand that kind of misogynistic thinking… with his fists.

He pondered Y/N’s reason for being scared for a few more moments, before he glanced down at her and saw how she was peeking at him through her half squinted eyes. And how she abruptly closed them when she was caught.

"She so fucking adorable" he whispers to himself.

Talking was important, but it could wait for a little bit. How could he not play along when she was acting so incredibly cute.

"Oh no, she fainted. I better put her on the bed." Sabo said in a sarcastic tone as he lifted her off the floor.

He noticed how Y/N shifted in his arms, still trying her best to keep her act up. He carefully placed her on the bed and just looked at her for a moment. 

Cute.

"Hmm, what’s that thing they do in fairytales?” Sabo sighed, before he leaned down close to her ear and whispered “Right…maybe she will wake up if I kiss her?" 

Within a second Y/N opened her eyes and shoved him away. A bright red blush had spread over her face, and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at her adorable reaction.

"Oh look, I didn’t even have to kiss her for it to work. Just. Like. A. Princess." 

"PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!" She exclaimed as she sat straight up on the bed, putting her arms in front of her.

‘Ehm- what?’ Sabo was suddenly very confused about what was happening.

"Hurt you? Why the fuck would I do that?" He asked.

"Because you are a Revolutionary, you disdain Nobles. You enjoy torturing them for fun, before you drag them to the guillotine. And you make them read your manifesto over and over, and over. And I'm a freaking Princess, daughter of a cruel, greedy tyrant! Of course you’re going to fucking hurt me!" 

Sabo stared at her with a blank face for a second, before he started to laugh hysterically, bending over with his hands on his stomach. 

"Pfft, hahaha—oh my god, this is too good to be true, hahaha," he laughed, tears lining his eyes. "Fuck- I can't breathe." 

It must have been a minute or two, but he finally calmed himself down after hearing her insane reasoning. God, everything made so much sense now. 

"Is this why you spent the last two weeks pretending to have amnesia? You actually believe in those crazy rumors?" Sabo chuckled as he wiped a tear from his eye "Oh, but the thing about the manifesto is true though. We use it to re-educate all kinds of people that have a messed up world view." 

"But mother told me-" 

"Well, your mom isn’t exactly the brightest. She thought I was a noble coming over for tea when I jumped over the castle gates. That’s how I got in." 

"You do kinda look like a noble." Y/N said, still visibly taken aback by his reaction.

"Yeah... But I also had a fucking metal pipe stuck to my back, which should have set some alarm bells ringing in her head. But she greeted me at the front door herself, happy to have a guest." 

"Mother, dear God." she sighed "Wait- why did you have a mental pipe?" 

"Uhmm... no reason. Don't worry about it." Sabo gave her a closed eyed smile.

The room fell silent.

He felt an anxious feeling growing in his chest. Whatever her reasoning was, this poor girl had still been afraid that he was going to hurt her. 

God, he was such an idiot. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she never wanted to see him again, considering how he had acted these last weeks. The thought of that scared him.

No, either way he needed to apologize. Maybe there was a chance that she would forgive him. And even if she didn’t, he would accept that.

Sabo carefully walked over to the bed, and when he saw that Y/N didn’t move away, he sat down next to her.

"I’m sorry Y/N. I never want to harm you in any way. Fuck, I feel horrible for putting you through that. You must have been so anxious the entire time. And I just thought we were playing a silly game. I promise, I never wanted you to feel that." He said, clenching his fist together.

All he could do was stare down on his knees. Sabo had never felt more ashamed than how he felt right this moment. 

Then, he felt a soft hand touch his forearm.

“I believe you.” Y/N’s sweet voice stated, making him look straight at her in shock.

“Why?” He stuttered, still not believing she was actually forgiving him.

“Hmmm… Because I want to.” She said, giving him a bright smile.

Sabo felt how his chest grew warm, like it did every time he saw that smile. 

Did she not understand the severity of this situation? It would make sense considering how she had been treated all her life. He needed her to understand that it was okay for her to be angry. That it was okay if she never wanted to see him again. That she was free to feel whatever she wanted to feel.

“But I stalked you for two weeks. I trapped you in a supply closet. I pressured you about your name over and over. I even stole your underwear. It’s only logical if you hate me, and-”

“But I don’t hate you. And I do believe you don’t want to hurt me.” Y/N sighed, before a serious expression fell over her face. “Look, have there been times I’ve been scared that something bad was going to happen to me if any of you found out who I am? Yes. But it’s a normal feeling to have when all your life you've been told that the Revolutionary Army tortures Nobles, right?” 

Sabo gave her a small nod, but stayed quiet and waited for her to continue talking.

“But for some reason, even though you have taken pleasure in tormenting me, and don’t try to deny it, there was still a part of me that believed that you never actually wanted to do me any harm. That none of the people in this base wanted to hurt me. And I was driving myself crazy trying to explain that feeling away, Stockholm Syndrome and stuff like that… But I do believe you.” 

“But-” Sabo started to say, but was caught off by a finger flicking his forehead.

"Ughh, no more but! It's okay, I actually wasn’t that scared until you told me you were the Second in Command. And even after that, a part of me still didn’t believe you wanted to kill me." Y/N laughed, which was a reaction not quite fitting her statement

"You thought I wanted to kill you?!" Sabo exclaimed, feeling even more embarrassed over how delusional he had been. 

She nodded in response, letting out a small giggle. 

"And I followed you around like a fucking stalker. Shit, do you know how close I was to breaking into your room last night?" He asked, feeling a warm flush spread over his face.

"You were close to doing what?" 

"Uh-" 

“Pfft- hahaha. It’s kinda fun seeing you embarrassed for once.” Y/N snickered, making Sabo feel relieved.

This was good. By some godsent miracle, she had actually forgiven him and was somehow dealing with the whole situation surprisingly well. He had been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to screw this up.

All he needed to do now was figure out if she had the same feelings as he did. And this time he was going with brutal honesty. 

___

It felt weird. That the small hope that had been inside her during this entire time was actually true. That Sabo never wanted to hurt her. She knew that the moment she heard his sincere words. Pure relife.

And thank god for that, otherwise she would have looked pretty stupid for sticking around this place so long. Haha, wouldn’t that have been a fun ending to her story. “The naive princess who was tricked and fell in love with the cruel enemy.”

No, she liked this ending much better. The ending where she was just a person, not chained to a title, who was free to love whoever she wanted to.

Even if the love in question was directed towards an undeniably handsome man, but with a sadistic streak. Because there was no denying that fact, Y/N knew that he genuinely took pleasure in tormenting her and seeing her embarrassed. And she was slowly starting to accept that she actually enjoyed it too. Not that Sabo needed to know that.

But she wanted to tell him about the feelings she’s been keeping locked away for these past few weeks. What was she supposed to do? There’s rules and etiquette to follow when it comes to these things. She couldn’t just flat out tell him-

“I love you.” Sabo’s statement cut through her train of thoughts.

“Wha-” Y/N was taken aback. Did he just-

“No scratch that.” He said as he moved closer to her, taking hold of her hand. “What I’m feeling for you is probably closer to an obsession at this point, and I know that sounds like a bad thing, but I promise it’s not. I feel a constant urge to be near you and keep you safe and make you feel loved and cared for and-”

Sabo paused, and she believed she had never seen him look this serious. How could he just say all those things so bluntly? She felt her heart beating faster, and how a warm flush spread over her cheeks.

“And I need to know if I’m just delusional, or if you like me too. Because I was certain you did, up until the moment I realized I’ve been a complete idiot during the entire time I’ve known you. And if you don’t, then that’s okay. I promise I will stop tormenting you... But if there’s even the smallest chance that I can be with you, I need to know.” He said, almost sounding desperate. 

Their faces were so close, Y/N could feel Sabo’s breath on her lips. His hand had left hers and traveled to her waist, carefully keeping it there and moving her slightly closer to him. 

She put her hand against his chest, surprised to feel that his heart was beating as fast as hers. Her body felt hot and she was trying her hardest to formulate a response, and before she knew it a single word slipped past her lips.

“Yes.” She said with a shaky voice, and felt how Sabo’s grip grew firmer on her waist.

“Yes what?” He asked, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“...I love you.” Y/N whispered, barely audible for anyone but Sabo to hear. 

“Thank God, you don’t know how much I’ve carved to hear you say those words.” He said with a relieved smile, making her heart flutter.

She hardly had time to catch her breath before she felt Sabo’s hand snake to the back of her hair, pulling her into a kiss. It caught her a little off guard, but Y/N felt safe as he took the lead, guiding her down on her back.

As the hand on her waist started to rub small circles through the fabric of her shirt, the kiss grew more intense, and she felt how the now familiar knot in her stomach started to form. She wanted more, to feel more, be closer to him. Her body was moving on its own, her hand grazing over his chest, up to his jaw and gently stroking her thumb over his cheek. 

Suddenly Sabo pulled away, breaking the kiss. She could see a soft pink tint over his face as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Fuck… Okay, you need to tell me now if you want to stop. Because we can, if you want to. But I’m barely keeping it together right now. So, do you want me to continue?” He asked with a heavy breath.

Y/N could only nod, making Sabo chuckle a little.

“Angel, I need to hear you say it.” He said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“...yes.” She answered quietly, growing more and more flustered.

“Hm? Yes, what?” A mischievous smile spread over Sabo’s lips as he cupped her chin and tilted her face up towards his.

“I- I want to continue.” Y/N managed to say. She didn’t want this to end now, before it even started.

“Good, that was all I needed to hear. I promise I will take really good care of you.” Sabo stated as he let go of her chin and leaned back so he was sitting on his knees in front of her.

How did he look so calm and in control? While she was barely keeping it together. Wasn’t they supposed to continue? Why did he move away?

“God, your thoughts are written all over your face. So eager, Angel.” He chuckled, as her face turned red. 

She watched as Sabo took his jacket off and loosened the carvant around his neck. She could see how his eyes roamed over her body, something flickering in his gaze as they met hers. She couldn’t figure out what he wanted her to do. 

“I don’t know what-” She started to say, but Sabo cut her off.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. I was just a little caught up in thoughts about how cute you look when you're flustered. Don’t worry, you don’t need to think right now, I’ll help you.” He stated. “Now, come here and help me take my gloves off.”

“Okay?” Y/N answered, a little confused about his request, but she moved closer to him and started to pull one of his gloves off, but Sabo moved his hand away.

“No, no Angel. Use your mouth.” He said with a grin over his lips.

“W-what?” 

“Well, I can keep them on if you want to… But I promise it's going to feel much better without the gloves. You want it to feel nice, don’t you?” Sabo asked, and she nodded in response “Okay, so take them off, just like I told you to do it.”

Dear God, I’m about to do the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in my life.

This devilish man must have some secret power over her, because why else would she be doing this. She cautiously eyed the gloved hands as she swallowed what was left of her pride, and slowly started to tug the glove off with her teeth. The taste of leather felt bitter on her lips as she somehow managed to work the first glove of his hand. 

Without giving her a second to breath, a finger pushed against her mouth, waiting for her to start. Y/N glared at Sabo, but he only gave her a smirk in response. The other glove didn’t come off as easily, and truth be told, she suspected that he was making it harder for her on purpose. 

“There. Happy?” She asked in a snarky tone as she tugged the glove of his hand.

“Very.” He snickered back.

“I don’t understand why you enjoy making me feel embarrassed so much.” Y/N said with a small pout.

“Because it’s fun seeing your cute reactions... And because I know you like feeling that way.” Sabo said as he leaned a little bit closer to her.

“I- I do not!” She exclaimed, moving back further up on the bed.

“No, you do.” he said in a calm tone as he started to unbutton his shirt. “I know because you always rub your thighs together when I make you flustered. And that’s usually a good sign”

Y/N tried to move further away, but suddenly felt a tug around her ankle making her fall flat on her back. She felt how Sabo’s hand started to travel up her leg, as he moved over her, one knee placed between her legs, pressing against her.

And dear god, just that little amount of much needed pressure against the right spot felt so good. An airy moan escaped her lips as the small knot in her abdomen grew.

“Fuck… you make the most angelic sounds when you’re needy.” Something dark flickered in Sabo’s eyes. “God, I’m going to have so. much. fun. with. you.”

___

If heaven made a sound, he was pretty sure that this is what it would sound like.

Sabo’s mind was clouded by his Angel’s sweet sobs as he continued to flick his tongue over her clit, moving his fingers inside of her in a steady rhythm. 

He had lost count of how many times he had made her cum by this point, but seeing the effects it had on her made every orgasm worth it. Legs twitching, hair clinging to her forehead, tears lining her eyes.

It was like he was looking at a piece of art.

Sabo knew he was being cruel. But the sound of her choked out voice in between airy moans and heavy breaths were fucking intoxicating. He could probably do this for hours, if he wasn’t burning up with his own greedy need.  

The need to pin her under him. The need to finally feel her clench around him. The need to put marks all over her body. Proof of how much he loved and adored her. Proof that she was his.

And although he knew that he shouldn’t be thinking it, he felt an overwhelming need to turn her into a completely broken mess. 

But he also knew that it was probably time to give her a break, let her catch her breath and rest against his chest-

“Sabo- please~” Y/N whimpered, clenching around his fingers.

Fuck- 

How was he supposed to ignore that? In the past hour, making her cum had become like an addiction to him. He craved to hear her cry out in pleasure as he helped her reach that high over and over again.  

Just one more.

“Oh, I know it’s a lot, sweetheart. You’re being so good for me. Just one more and then we’re done, I promise.” He heard how Y/N’s voice hitched as he quickened the pace of his fingers.

Wet sounds and loud moans filled his head, melting inside every time his name slipped past her lips in small cries of pleasure. She was squirming, basically grinding against his face. 

And Sabo loved every second of it. He loved that he could make her this way. That he could completely shut her brain off and make her lose herself in the pleasure he was giving her.

And as he felt his Angel’s body tense up once more, Sabo couldn’t resist the urge to gently bite her inner thigh.

He carefully pulled his fingers out and leaned back to look at the beautiful picture in front of him. A red flush over her cheeks. Puffy lips, probably from her biting down on them. Chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. 

“Fucking angelic.” Sabo moaned, taking one more good look before he laid down next to her.

He gently pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair, carefully untangling the mess he had created.

“How are you feeling Angel? It wasn’t too much, was it?” He asked, placing his other hand on her thigh, rubbing soft circles on her skin.

“Nice, so nice~ “ Y/N answered in a soft voice, lightly grazing over his chest with her hand.

“Nice? Maybe we should keep going then-” he felt a slap against his chest “I was just joking, sweetheart. It’s late, and I plan on keeping you trapped with me in this room for at least a few days, so you’re going to need the rest.”

“What?” she asked, already half asleep.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it, I’ll show you tomorrow.”

___

This must be the most wonderful-

Wait, no. We’re not doing that again. Last time ended in disaster.

Y/N stretched her legs out as she opened her eyes. God, she felt sore. 

She mindlessly put her arms over her head to relieve the ache, but felt how her hand hit something. She looked up, horrified to see her fist pushed in right under Sabo's jaw, quickly moving it away. 

“Well, good morning to you too.” Sabo said as he stroked the place she had hit. “Was I really that mean last night that I deserved being woken up by a punch?”

“I’M SO SORRY, I DIDN’T-” Y/N stopped herself a thought back on the previous night, and on how much her body ached this very moment. “You know what? You do deserve that.”

“Ouch! My poor heart.” He answered in a dramatic voice, placing his hands over his chest.

All of this was so absurd, she couldn’t help but to laugh. 

Yesterday when she woke up, she had been fully prepared to run away. Almost convinced that the man now laying in her bed wanted to drag her to the guillotine. Afraid that she was going to spend the rest of her life camping out in the middle of the woods. But nothing of that had happened.

Funny how things turn out sometimes. Still, there were some things that needed to be cleared up.

“So, what happens now? I mean, didn’t you say that my so-called father basically surrendered yesterday? Doesn’t that mean that the revolution is over?” Y/N asked.

“Hmm, yeah, kinda… Now it’s just the boring administrative work left. You know, sentencing the bad guys to prison, relocating funds, drafting a new constitution, and whatnot.” Sabo said with a shrug “Oh, but don’t worry. Koala can probably handle that alone for the first few days. We’re not leaving this room unless we really, really need to.”

“You’re not keeping me trapped in here. I need food, and a bath.” She scoffed.

“But I thought you loved me?” He answered with a hurt expression. “Now that I think about it, maybe it’s better if we moved to my room instead. I have snacks we can eat, and a shower.”

“That’s not- nevermind.” Y/N sighed. “We’re getting sidetracked… I mean, what happens after all the administrative stuff is done?”

“Oh, we're going back to Baltigo. The island itself might not be so fun, but don’t worry, everyone at the main base will welcome you with open arms. And you can meet Hack, and Dragon, and all the other members. And you can of course move in with me if you want to, but we can also get you your own room if you would prefer that-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You understand that I’m staying here, right?” She stated.

“What?” Sabo asked with a dumbfounded look.

___

Koala was standing on the stern, looking back at the Island they had lived on for the past month. She thought fondly of the people they had helped liberate from the tyrannical ruler of the country. It always felt good leaving after a successful mission.

“We need to turn around.” Sabo said, suddenly standing next to her.

“FUCK- where did you come from.” She exclaimed.

“Koala, tell them to turn the ship around.” He said in a deadly serious tone.

“Why?” She asked, already knowing what this was about.

“I forgot something…” 

“Mhmm, and what would that something be?” Koala said as she rolled her eyes.

“A stubborn brat who doesn’t know what’s best for her.” Sabo answered through gritted teeth.

“Ah-ah, careful there Mr. Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army. Kinda sounds like you want to take away someone’s free will.” She teased, earring a scoff in response. “You want Y/N to live free, right? To make her own choices?”

“...yes.” 

“Exactly. So stop pouting like some spoiled rich kid. Besides, Dragon already agreed that it was safe for you to go visit her between missions. You’ll see her again in two months.”

“But what if she misses me and I’m not there?” Sabo asked in a panicked voice.

“She’ll write you a letter!”

“What if she burns the house down?”

“Dear God, have mercy and give me strength… Oh wait, strength.” Koala chuckled as she slammed her fist down at the top of Sabo’s head. “Stop being an idiot”

She glared at Sabo as he rubbed the spot on his head, before she saw him looking back towards the Island.

“Two months…Just two months.” he sighed, with a faint smile spreading over his lips.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia @kitsunechan707 @treelogirl @sukunas-play-thing @coffiviv @inoe-kun-blog @asura0nepiece