#but then he tried to move out and i said no and then something changed

[steddiealltheway]

1984 is not Steve Harrington’s year.

Not only does he find out that his girlfriend doesn’t actually love him, but somehow the creepy monster thing that united his now ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, came back in the form of some type of monster dog.

The highlight of his year might actually be befriending a nerdy middle schooler who introduced him to said monster dog - which he named Dart of all things... something to do with a candy bar.

He groans at the thought as the music from downstairs carries into his room. For some reason, Tommy Hagan decided to temporarily ignore the fact that he ditched Steve for the new keg king, Billy Hargrove, who managed to give Steve something else to worry about while literal Hell crawled its way into Hawkins, in favor of throwing a New Year's Eve party in the Harrington residence.

Typical for the year Steve's having. Why not end it horribly too?

He glances at the clock, relieved that it's already somewhat close to midnight. If it weren't for the noise, he would consider trying to sleep through this one. Instead, he lays back on his bed and hopes that no one tries to disturb him.

As if the universe can hear his thoughts, and then curse them, the door to his bedroom swings open.

Steve sits up with a huff and frowns at the person.

A guy with medium length curly hair and doe eyes stares back at him with a big smile that screams chaos.

"Sorry, dude," Steve says, "Bedroom is off limits. Go hookup, smoke, or whatever somewhere else."

Instead of leaving, the guy closes the door behind him and locks it.

Steve scoots back on the bed, hand reaching back to wrap around the nail bat he leaves behind his nightstand.

The dude raises his hands in mock surrender, silver rings glinting in the light streaming in from Steve's window - blinds open enough so he can make sure no one does anything weird in his pool. "Listen, man, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. Although you might hurt me when you hear why I'm here."

There's something about his voice that sounds familiar to Steve when it suddenly hits him - all the yelling and stomping around on tabletops. "You're Eddie Munson."

Eddie smiles and bows dramatically. "Guilty as charged."

Steve's frown deepens, and for a fleeting moment he thinks Dustin would really like the guy. "So, why would I hurt you if I hear you out?"

"Because, Steve," Eddie draws out his name as if it has a deeper meaning, "I was downstairs thinking about what a wonderful year I've had, and I decided that I might as well start the year with a little chaos."

Steve's grip tightens around the bat in case he's some sort of satanic serial killer or something, although his gut tells him that he shouldn't be scared of the man. "What do you mean by chaos?"

There's a strange glint in Eddie's eye when he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on the feet as if he wants to move closer to Steve but has decided to plant himself by his door. "I mean... I came to this party to sell my supply and after my whole lunchbox was cleaned out, I started thinking about who I should kiss at midnight. Or more precisely, who would be the worse option, or rather, the option that would bring the most-"

"Chaos. Yeah, I got that part," Steve cuts him off.

Eddie's smile changes to something genuine for a moment as he comments, "Wow, Steve Harrington is actually listening to me."

Steve rolls his eyes, grip loosening on the bat. "I'd rather you not stand on my desk to get my attention." To Steve's surprise, Eddie actually laughs in response and pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his smile. And to Steve's much greater surprise, his heart starts beating a little faster and he finds it harder to not smile back at him. "So, chaos?" Steve prompts.

"Right," Eddie says, rocking on his feet again, "Chaos." He ducks his head for a moment as if hyping himself up for the next thing he's going to say, which is when Steve entirely releases his grip on the bat, realizing that Eddie is more scared of him. "So, I thought, to start the year off with the most chaos, I would choose someone to kiss that would bring the most chaos. And I thought, why not the host of this party?"

Steve frowns. "Tommy's downstairs."

Eddie mirrors his frown. "You're not hosting?"

"Why would I be in my room if I'm hosting?"

"Why would the party be in your house if you're not hosting?"

It suddenly hits Steve. "Wait, you want to kiss me?"

Eddie takes a step back, hovering even closer to the door than he was before. "Consensually, of course."

It takes a moment for Steve to fully process what is being asked. "You think I'm the worst option to kiss?"

"That's what you're asking?" Eddie asks, trailing off to mutter something like, "The fragile ego of athletes, I swear."

"I got dumped this year. Of course my ego is low."

Eddie smiles bashfully. "Sorry, my uncle always tells me I'm not as quiet as I think I am." And there's something about Eddie's cheeks that are slightly flushed, the strand of hair he starts tugging at again, and the way he can't stop bouncing as if he's buzzing with energy and nerves that makes him so...

"Yes," Steve blurts out suddenly. For a moment, he wonders if the mindf- mind fly? mind... whatever evil thing from a few weeks ago has possessed him.

"Yes what?" Eddie asks sounding genuinely confused. As Steve stands up to look out his blinds and shut them, Eddie rambles, "Yes, I'm not as quiet as I think I am? Or yes, you're about to punch me, and I'm going to finally figure out how it felt when you got your face bashed in a few weeks ago?"

Steve rolls his eyes before holding up both of his hands, mimicking Eddie's pose when he first came into the room. "Yes, I'll kiss you."

It's as if Eddie has forgotten he's asked the question the way his jaw drops, and he stares at Steve like he's said the most confusing thing he's ever heard. Which... to be fair... is highly likely.

"You want to kiss me?"

Steve takes a small step closer to Eddie. "I want to give you your chaos."' When Eddie doesn't look convinced, Steve takes a step closer to him, hand running through his hair as he continues, "Who knows, maybe it'll give me good luck or something for next year by cancelling out the chaos from this year."

Eddie nods. "Okay. You're giving me your chaos. Yeah. That makes sense."

"And you're taking my chaos away," Steve agrees, trying to tell himself that this is a rational decision. "This makes sense."

"You're not going to beat me up?" Eddie asks, risking a small step away from the door.

Steve shakes his head. "Seems like a bad way to start the year, don't you think?"

Eddie nods as Steve steps closer to him, slowly, as if not to startle him away. "You know, I thought just asking you would be chaotic enough as is and then I could run away and pretend you hallucinated or something when you tried to beat me up."

"Should've asked Hargrove then," Steve says, cocking his head to the side. "Does that mean you don't actually want to kiss me?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "I didn't say that."

Just as Steve gets in front of Eddie, he hears people downstairs counting down from ten. "Good," Steve says, "Because there isn't enough time to find someone else."

Eddie scoffs, the countdown now at eight, "That's not true for you."

"Maybe, but I'm not really looking to find anyone else right now. Are you?" Five.

Eddie smiles and takes a step forward. "No." Three.

Steve reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear. "Good." One.

Steve's not really sure who moves first or if they move together, but the yells of, "Happy New Year" are drowned out as Eddie's lips meet his in a kiss that feels more desperate than Steve expected. He's not sure why they're kissing as if the countdown was for the end of the world, but he really doesn't care.

It's only when Steve's gets a little carried away, Eddie's back slams against Steve's door with a thud that's loud enough to alert anyone that something's happening in Steve's room, that Steve breaks away with a gasp, seeking the air Eddie's stolen from him. He wonders if - hopes - it's the chaos he's taken.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispers, hands cupping Eddie's face while Eddie's are tangled in the mess he's made of Steve's hair. He's not sure when either of those things happened.

"Happy fucking New Year, Steve," Eddie mutters, hands slowly dropping from his hair.

Steve's hands hold onto Eddie's face a little tighter for a moment, and he sees the moment a bit of fear sparks in Eddie's eyes. Steve quickly shakes his head. "No, I'm not about to beat you up. It's just... I kind of slammed you against the door a little hard there, and if someone else is up here and they see you..."

"Chaos," Eddie fills in with a nod, "And not the good kind."

"Yeah," Steve sighs, "Not the good kind." He glances to his window where the blinds are firmly shut - thank you Jonathan for teaching him that lesson - and down at the locked doorknob before looking back at Eddie. He glances at his lips momentarily before blurting out, "Stay with me."

Eddie's jaw drops, mouth opening slightly in shock.

Steve steps back, hands reluctantly leaving Eddie's face. "Stay until everyone clears out at least. No ulterior motive."

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets and moves back into Steve's space. "What if I want there to be an ulterior motive?" He tilts his head down and gives Steve a case of lethal puppy dog eyes. "Fully take your chaos away, remember?"

Steve is absolutely sure that this in no way will take away the chaos of his previous year and will likely only invite questions, confusion, and further chaos into 1985.

"Yeah, I remember," Steve says, pulling Eddie into another desperate kiss.

Maybe Eddie was onto something about starting the year with a little chaos. And maybe 1985 will be his year.

(i accidentally wrote a tiny epilogue later in the tags that i really like)

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

prev. | masterlist

There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back. “ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

[yunjardi]

STRICTLY BUSINESS [18+]

[JAKE SIM DRABBLE]

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/pairing: boss!jake x fem!assistant/

/content warnings: smut [18+ mdni], semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral [m receiving], dirty talk, spanking, making out/kissing, nail marks, pls lmk if i missed anything!!!/

/wc: 1,296

/author's note: i know i said this would be more of a drabble, but i got a little carried away lol. i'm super glad to be back after over a year <3 thank you to those who have been here and also those who are just stopping by :) ily <3

p.s. this is not proofread at all oops

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you found yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself into this position.

that said 'position' being on your knees between jake's legs as he sat back in his office chair.

you didn't think that this was something that actually happened in real life, fucking your boss that is. it seemed so unreal until a few short months ago when you were hired to be jake's personal assistant- something that would ultimately lead to you keeping a dirty little secret.

jake is smooth talker, so you assumed that he spoke in a flirty manner to everyone. that was until the two of you began building a closer relationship which was natural due to the nature of your job, but you didn't think that it would go this far, you didn't think that you two would end up being this close.

flirting turned into dates (that jake referred to as simply 'treating my assistant for being so great at her job'), dates turned into late nights together, late nights together turned into sleepovers, and those sleepovers soon became a regular occurrence. i mean, waking up and already being by your boss's side first thing in the morning makes your job a whole lot easier, right?

right.

whatever way you tried to dance around it doesn't (and won't) change the fact that you are, indeed, banging your boss.

"just like that," jake breathed out as you let his tip hit the back of your throat, "such a good girl."

a constant string of praises, moans, and curses fell from jake's pretty lips as you mercilessly teased him with your tongue, unable to stop yourself from getting wet in the process.

jake smirked and raised an eyebrow as he noticed one of your hands gently slipping into your panties. he watched as you pleased yourself whilst simultaneously pleasing him which was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"is my princess getting riled up?" jake cooed as he looked down at you, being sure to focus on the way you touched yourself. you couldn't help but look away as your face began to heat up at the sudden confrontation, but jake was quick to tilt your head up so that you had no choice but to look him in his pretty eyes.

"so cute," jake chuckled sexily as he brushed your hair away from your face, "now, be a good girl and sit on my desk, yeah?" naturally, you followed his orders (mostly out of habit at this point) and sat yourself up on his desk, ready to fulfill his every request.

he looked gorgeous standing before you, his hair slightly messy from having run his hands through it and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. it was impossible for anyone in their right mind to not be attracted to him in some way, shape, or form.

jake gently leaned in, giving you a tender kiss on the lips before moving down to you neck. his hands wandered from your lower back down to your thighs as he continued to kiss all over you, causing your breath to hitch. he made sure to hike up your already short skirt as the gap between your bodies became slimmer and slimmer.

you instinctively brought your hands up to further unbutton his shirt, wanting to see the entirety of his toned body. jake followed suit, beginning to slide the thin strap of your top down your shoulder before fully discarding your shirt somewhere in his office, leaving you in the lacy bra jake had gotten you as a gift for 'being such a great assistant.'

it drove him crazy to see you wearing the pretty bra he bought just for you, and it made him crave you even more desperately.

he couldn't resist you any longer.

he pulled you into a passionate kiss before teasing your entrance with his tip, causing a little gasp to get caught in your throat at the sudden rush. once again, he tilted your face upward, making sure to meet your gaze before slowly inching his throbbing tip into you. you gripped tightly onto his forearm as his cock went deeper and deeper inside you, your walls squeezing every inch of his length.

"jake-" you moaned out as you loosened your grip on his forearms, your hands now holding onto his as he slowly began to move his hips. your eyes rolled back as you let a string of moans leave your lips, his thick tip hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his strokes.

"your cunt is so tiny and small, yet you take me so well," jake smirked as he brought one of his hands down to your clit, beginning to gently rub circles around it as you struggled to keep your legs apart.

your moans became increasingly desperate as jake began to pick up his pace, his hands now gripping at your thighs as he pounded your sweet spot. you could only manage to let out little whines and begs for him to not stop as you felt yourself leaning closer and closer to your climax.

jake promptly picked you up from his desk and sat you down on his lap, guiding his length back inside you as to not waste any precious time that he could be spending fucking you.

the two of you moaned in sync as you sunk back down onto his cock, his tip immediately poking at your spot once again.

after he fully bottomed out, you wasted no time grinding your hips against his, still desperate to reach your high.

jake let his head fall back in pleasure as he left harsh spanks on your ass and thighs. "my good girl," jake moaned deeply into your ear as he left kisses on your neck, "you're all mine, yeah?" you barely managed to nod your head through the extreme pleasure. "mhm, all yours," you moaned breathlessly as he fucked his cock into you from underneath you.

a familiar burning sensation bubbled in your core as jake took control again, being rougher with you than he was before. all you could do was moan uncontrollably about how good he felt being this deep inside you.

"feels good, yeah?" jake teased as you snaked your hands around his shoulders, leaving your nail marks on his skin, "you haven't managed to let go of me since i put my dick inside you." he chuckled as he let caressed all over your body. you pouted at his teasing, but that only prompted him to grab your face and kiss you before pounding into your pussy again.

you could barely warn jake before you inevitably came all over his hard cock. all you could do was let out pathetic moans and hold onto him as you reached your high which jake found oh-so cute.

"you did so good for me, princess," jake praised you as he gently rubbed your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you, "i won't last much longer either." he sighed breathily, flashing his pretty smile before giving you a few more strokes. soon enough, jake finished alongside you, his deep groans penetrating your ears as he let his seed leak into you.

the two of you sat catching your breaths for a bit before jake helped you get cleaned up. you ruffled his hair as he turned to hand you his suit jacket. jake draped his suit jacket across your shoulders, adoring the way you looked wearing his clothes before the two of you exited his office.

a co-worker of jake's stopped to say hello and commented on how lively he seemed today.

jake couldn't stop the cheeky grin from forming on his face.

"well, what can i say? i've got a really great assistant to keep me company."

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a/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou for reading <3 i've truly missed writing and you all so much ! i'll be back with another one soon my loves <3

main taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @leeis @jaeyunologyy @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @leeheeheeseung (send an ask to be added + if you have asked to be on my permanent taglist and don't see your username, pls message me bc i removed blogs that were unable to be tagged!)

©yunjardi on tumblr

[seumyo]

I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG

PROMPT. How they mourn when you were gone too soon. You did worry about getting old, didn’t you?

FEATURING. Midoriya I., Bakugou K., Todoroki S., Shinsou H.

NOTE. I’m testing the waters with angst content + formatting style for multiple drabbles—so forgive me if it’s not that good!

MIDORIYA IZUKU — Sees you in someone else.

Midoriya Izuku found passion in teaching. It’s a life-changing job that molds each and every student into the person they want to become with the help of people like him.

His students, vibrant and full of life, were so much like his old classmates—and among them was Takashiro Ayane, her laughter light and melodic as she teased one of her friends about their clumsy landing during training.

It reminded him of someone. Someone close.

You.

And the thought always came to him, even when he didn’t mean to. Even at the most random times.

Ayane’s resemblance to you was uncanny. It wasn’t just her kindness or the gentle way she spoke; it was in the way she held herself, her subtle but unwavering resolve. Midoriya could see flashes of you in her—the friend who had once been a constant source of warmth in his turbulent journey at U.A. High.

As Ayane reached up to adjust her headband, smiling brightly, Midoriya felt a pang in his chest. The sight was like a memory brought to life, a reminder of your soft-spoken encouragement and the way she always stood firm despite her fears.

God, it felt like seeing you all over again.

“Sensei!” another student called out, pulling him back to the present. “Did you see that move? I think it might actually work in combat! Or support, if I feel like it.”

Midoriya blinked, shaking off the haze of memories. “Y-Yeah, it looked great!” he replied, mustering enthusiasm. “Your timing’s improving a lot—keep it up!”

He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now, but it was no use. The resemblance was too striking, and his heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. You were gone, after all. Gone too soon.

As the students broke into laughter again, something about the carefree sound and the dynamic of his students triggered a reflex. Without thinking, he spoke, his voice soft yet audible enough to be heard.

“[First Name], I—”

Your name left his lips before he realized it, and the world seemed to freeze. The students fell silent, their laughter replaced by curious stares. Ayane tilted her head; confusion could be seen in her face.

Midoriya’s heart sank as he realized his mistake. He quickly forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean Takashiro,” he corrected, craning a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

The students exchanged glances, a few offering polite chuckles before moving on. The moment passed, yet for Midoriya, the weight of it lingered. He stayed behind as the students began their walk back to the main building, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Everything came flooding in his mind. Like a relentless tide that swept him away. Your jokes, your laugh, and the countless little moments that had defined your friendship.

He hadn’t spoken your name aloud in years, not since your passing. Now, saying it felt like reopening an old wound, one he had carefully avoided for so long. But he could only do so much avoidance ‘til he has to terms with it.

“Sensei?”

The gentle voice startled him, and he looked up to see Ayane standing a few steps away. Her expression was concerned; her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You seemed... distracted earlier.”

Midoriya hesitated. The words caught in his throat as he wrestled with how to respond. How could he explain to his student that she reminded him of his dead friend?

What kind of teacher would he be if he were to say that? The awful, grieving kind, he bets.

“I’m fine, Takashiro,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all. You know how these long training sessions can be.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “If you ever need to talk, Sensei... we’re here for you too. Fighting!”

“Midoriya, grow a spine! Fighting!”

Her words hit too close to home.

“Thank you,” he could only murmur.

Ayane lingered for a moment before turning to join her classmates. He remained there, rooted to the spot as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The golden light bathed the empty training grounds, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried to move on, but I see you everywhere. In everything. In everyone.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a mix of regret and longing washing over him. “You were right about so many things,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “I just wish you were here to see it—to see how far we’ve all come.”

But you weren’t here anymore, and that’s the problem.

Bakugou Katsuki — Mourns you longer than he’d known you.

Cemeteries never brought discomfort to Bakugou. Not until you died, that is.

The place stretches out in solemn silence; the faint rustle of leaves in the hedges are the only sounds he heard as he trudged along the familiar gravel path. His boots made dull, deliberate crunches against the fallen leaves, the heaviness of his steps matching the weight in his chest.

In his hands, he carried the usual offerings: a bouquet of red spider lilies tied neatly with a ribbon, a box of your favorite sweet treats—melon pan today—and the incense sticks he always lit with care. It had been years since your passing, but for Bakugou, the loss felt as raw as if it had been yesterday.

He approached your gravestone, its surface polished and pristine, just as he always left it. Your name was etched into the stone with delicate precision, the sight of it both grounding and crushing. As if to remind him that you weren’t coming back because you’re just here, waiting for someone to visit you.

Bakugou knelt, his movements stiff and reluctant, as though even now he couldn’t fully accept your absence. Why can’t he accept it?

“Yo, dummy,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the lilies from their wrapping and placing them carefully at the vase near the gravestone. He adjusted them twice, three times, until they looked just right. His eyes lingered on the name etched into the cold stone, a bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Brought your damn flowers again. Hope you appreciate it.”

The sarcasm in his words was thinly veiled; beneath it lay the unmistakable ache of someone who had loved and lost far too deeply.

He pulled out the incense sticks next, lighting them with a practiced flick beneath his palm. You would’ve loved to see him do it in person; maybe light up a candle or two when the power goes out during your high school dorm days. The smell of sandalwood quickly mingled with the damp earth, and Bakugou leaned back on his heels, staring at the curling smoke.

“Another week down,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Another round of saving people, making headlines, being the ‘Great Dynamight.’ ” He spat the title out like it was poison.

“It’s what you always said I’d do, isn’t it? Go big; make my mark. But, damn it, [Last Name], none of it means anything without you here to see it.”

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as the familiar wave of guilt and frustration washed over him. His head dipped as he let out a long, ragged breath.

“I thought time was supposed to make this easier,” Bakugou admitted, his voice rough. “It’s been... what? Seven years now? And every damn day, it still feels like you’re just gonna show up out of nowhere, like you’re gonna annoy the hell outta me with one of your stupid jokes.”

The thought made his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, though it was laced with sadness. He could almost hear your voice—that gentle yet persistent tone you’d use whenever she tried to drag him along to something.

“C’mon, Bakugou, I’ll need someone to bail me out of jail! You’ll regret it if you don’t come along.”

And you were right. He regretted it now. Every single refusal, every grumbled excuse, every moment he could’ve spent with you and didn’t.

“You were annoying as hell,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were... you were good. Too good.” His fists loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides.

“And you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to go like that.” Bakugou remembers the time he almost stained his conduct by almost killing the villain that got to you.

It’s unfair, isn’t it? The villain got to live behind bars, while you lost yours.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees above. Bakugou tilted his head back, glaring up at the overcast sky as though it were to blame for everything.

“They don’t tell you how much it fucking hurts,” he said bitterly. “To lose someone like you. They don’t tell you that the longer it’s been, the harder it gets, ‘cause every year just reminds me of how much more I’ve missed. How much quicker I could’ve been.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. It was yours, something your family had found amongst your belongings after you passed. They wanted him to have it since his name was always frequently mentioned. The edges were frayed, the pages creased from countless readings, but it was his most treasured possession.

Bakugou would rather die than even let a single drop of water meet one of its pages.

Flipping it open, he scanned your handwriting, some neat and some looking as though you couldn’t be bothered with basic penmanship. He stopped on a page that always gutted him.

Life’s short. Spend it with the people who matter. Don’t let moments slip away! :P

His thumb brushed over the words, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, you know. I get it. Too late, but I get it.”

He placed the notebook on the gravestone, letting it rest there for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand lingered on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of your name.

“You were supposed to stick around,” he said softly. “Supposed to keep bugging me, keep dragging me out of my own damn head. Now I’m stuck here, talking to a rock, and it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.”

The clouds began to part, a faint beam of sunlight breaking through and casting a soft glow over the gravestone. Bakugou stared at it, his eyes unreadable. He’s thinking.

“I’ll keep coming back,” he finally said, his voice steadier now.

“Every week, every month, every damn year. You’re not gonna be forgotten. Not by me.”

He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Adjusting the incense sticks and flowers one last time, he stepped back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“See you next time, dummy,” he murmured, his voice low. “Don’t forget about me or whatever, whever you are.”

As Bakugou walked away, the wind carried the faint scent of incense and the quiet promise of a man who would mourn you longer than he’d ever known you.

TODOROKI SHOUTO — Learns things that reminded him of you.

Todoroki knows that he’s been busy. It’s in the way the white camellias he brought you months ago are now wilted, showing their dried-up state. His fingers brush against the wilted petals, lingering as if to apologize for not visiting sooner.

“I still remember the last thing you said to me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. “It wasn’t even anything serious—just you scolding me for not eating enough during lunch. You were always so good at taking care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He glanced down, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, bittersweet smile. The image of you—scolding, your hands on your hips as you tried to hide your worry—was etched so vividly into his memory that he could almost hear your voice.

Todoroki’s gaze traveled to the offerings he had brought with him: a fresh bouquet of camellia, a neatly folded scarf he had knitted in one of his new hobbies that he took up classes for, and a small pack of your favorite matcha-flavored sweets. “I know you’d laugh at me for picking up knitting,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But... it’s calming. I think you’d appreciate that. You always said I needed to find something that made me happy outside of being a hero.”

The scarf was simple, a pale green color that reminded him of the shade you loved wearing. He had spent hours perfecting it, thinking of how you might have joked about him for being so precise yet ultimately praised his effort.

“I hope you’d like it,” he whispered, setting it down carefully beside the gravestone. “I thought about giving it to someone else, but it felt wrong. It’s yours.”

Todoroki draws in a breath, closing his eyes, letting the stillness of the place envelop him. Yet in the quiet, his mind raced with so many thoughts all at once.

“I also learned how to cook,” he tells you—he tells your grave. “It’s not as good as yours, but Bakugou’s been helping.”

He thought of your childhood, how you had been his only light during the dark days of his father’s strict training. How you had been this bubbly girl that the teacher often praised, how you had stood by him when he was still new to making friends at the nursery, offering him a hand when he thought he didn’t deserve one.

“You were the best person I knew. And I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that, [Last Name]. You were my friend when I didn’t know how to be one back.”

The pain of those words hung heavy in the air, and Todoroki’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had spent years replaying your interactions, wishing he had done things differently. If he had done things differently, you would’ve been here, probably teasing him for taking up chopstick-making classes.

“I was so angry back then,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. “At my father, at myself, at the world. And I took it out on you, the one person who never stopped trying to help me. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, but... I needed you.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, frustrated by the way his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was the Number Two Hero now, a symbol of strength and perseverance. Yet here, in front of you, he felt like the lost, broken little boy that longed for his first friend.

“I need you now, please.”

The sound of a bird chirping nearby pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a hue that reminded him of your warmth.

You did like sunsets, didn’t you?

“You’d probably scold me for crying,” he said with a faint chuckle, though his voice still wavered. “You always hated seeing me upset. But I think it’s okay this time. You’re worth crying over.”

He knelt down again, his fingers brushing over the engraved letters of your name.

“Shoucchan! You can’t cry! We can be partners—the best partners!”

Yes, partners. The best partners for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m trying to live the way you wanted me to,” he continued. “To find happiness outside of being a hero. To be someone you’d be proud of. But it’s hard, [Last Name]. It’s hard without you.”

He stayed there for what felt like hours, speaking to you as though you were sitting beside him, as though your gentle presence could somehow reach across the veil of death. He told you about his hero work, about the classes he was taking, about the little moments of joy he tried to find in a life that often felt too heavy.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose to his feet. His knees ached from kneeling for so long, but he barely noticed.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears that still shimmered in his eyes. “And I won’t let you wait so long again. Next time, I’ll bring something better than just a flower. Maybe one of those awful paintings you always said I should make.”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated, glancing back at the gravestone one last time. As if you’d be there with open arms, waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying a weight that only you could understand.

He walked away slowly, the sound of his footsteps fading into the stillness. The cemetery grew quiet once more, the only reminder of his visit the small offerings left behind—silent testaments to a bond that even death could not sever.

SHINSOU HITOSHI — Avoidance by all means necessary, until he finally caves in.

If you were to ask Shinsou what his prized possession was, he’ll tell you that it’s a shoe box. A shoe box that seemed to hold the world—your world, with remnants of a friendship that had lasted his entire life—a lifetime with you.

Shinsou sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hovering over the box as though touching it might shatter him. He had been avoiding this moment for weeks. The funeral had been a blur, the condolences—a cacophony of words that didn’t mean anything because he knew that they couldn’t possibly understand how it feels. Everyone seemed to know the right things to say, except him.

All he had wanted was for you to be there, to laugh at how awkward he was with the whole ordeal.

Now, it was just silence.

With a deep breath, he finally reached into the box, pulling out the first item: a knitted scarf, a rich shade of violet. It was slightly uneven, the handiwork amateur at best, but it was one of the first gifts you’d ever made for him. He could still remember your smile when you handed it over during your middle school years.

“I thought it’d look good on you,” you had said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Don’t laugh! It’s my first try. Nuh uh, I’m taking this back—Hitoshi!”

He hadn’t laughed. Ok, maybe just a quiet chuckle, but he had worn it every winter since.

He leaned forward again, staring into the box. Inside were the tokens of a life intertwined with his—handmade crafts, small souvenirs, and letters tied with ribbons in colors you knew he liked. Each item was a story, a piece of you you had given him, never expecting you would be taken away so soon.

He gently picked up a small ceramic cat figurine, its paint slightly chipped. It was from one of your family trips abroad.

“I saw this and thought of you!”

Younger Shinsou blinked, confused.

“Me?”

You nodded. “You’re like this cat. All serious, but secretly soft and comforting.”

Shinsou chuckled softly at the memory, though the sound was tinged with sadness. He had teased you for it back then, calling it tacky, but it had ended up on his desk at home. Now, it felt like a sacred relic.

Setting the figurine down, he reached for another item. Shinsou pulled out a small, framed photo of the two of you at a summer festival. He was scowling at the camera while you grinned beside him, holding up two sticks of cotton candy. It was one of the rare times you had dragged him out, insisting he needed to “experience life beyond his walls” when he just wanted to sleep in.

He’d go to every summer festival in the country—even if it meant losing sleep—as long as he gets to do it with you.

The frame trembled slightly in his grip as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He pulls out a well-worn journal. It was yours. He hesitated, knowing that opening it would feel both comforting and unbearably painful. After a moment, he gave in, flipping through the pages.

Inside were your thoughts—notes about school, sketches of the two of them, and half-finished poems you had written during quiet afternoons.

The prince has been so stressed lately.

I wish I could take it all away.

He deserves the world, but he won’t let himself believe it.

Maybe one day he’ll see himself the way I do.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been like that—putting everyone else first, even when you had your own struggles. He closed the journal and held it to his chest, his breath shaky.

“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you how much you meant to me.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he sat there in the coming twilight. He thought back to the nights they had spent stargazing, sharing their dreams and fears. You had been his constant, his answer, his light, even when he didn’t know he needed one.

His phone buzzed again, a reminder that the world kept moving even when his had stopped. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from his secretary.

Meeting tomorrow at 9, Sir. You told me to remind you.

Shinsou scoffed bitterly, tossing the phone aside. Work didn’t matter right now. Nothing did.

He looked back into the box and pulled out a small, intricately folded paper crane. He had almost forgotten about it. It was from your high school years, during a particularly tough exam season.

“This is for luck,” you had said, carefully handing it to him with an awed expression. “And if it doesn’t work, at least it’s cute, right?”

He remembered stuffing it into his pocket, too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him at the time. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

As he unfolded the crane carefully, a note inside revealed itself. The ink was slightly faded, but your handwriting was unmistakable.

You’re going to be amazing. Always.

A choked sob escaped him, and he clenched the note tightly in his fist. You had believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He wished he could’ve seen this sooner.

When it got dark, Shinsou didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence felt appropriate—a space for his grief to exist without judgment.

“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I don’t even know how to keep going without you.”

He glanced at the small collection of gifts and letters spread out on the table. Each one was a reminder of the life you two had shared—a life you had enriched with your thoughtfulness and love.

Though the pain was overwhelming, Shinsou knew he couldn’t let your memory fade. You had given him so much, and the least he could do was honor you by living the way you would have wanted—fully and without regret.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to you. “You’d probably get mad if I slept in.”

The room remained quiet, save for the faint sound of the wind outside. But for Shinsou, it felt as though you were still there, your presence lingering in every corner of his heart.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Daddy's Boy

🇺🇸Pairing(s)🇺🇸→ Step Dad Ari Levinson x Step Son reader ⚠CW⚠→ top Ari Levinson, bottom male reader, feminization, reader’s ass is called boypussy, edging, possessive Ari, Ari calls you his boywife, gay, gay-sex, cheating, infidelity, anal sex, anal fingering, thigh fucking, and cross-dressing. Ari makes his fantasy come true and confesses that he always wanted you. 🇺🇸Rating🇺🇸→ Explicit 🇺🇸Requested🇺🇸→ Yes

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸→ 1.9k

🇺🇸Summary🇺🇸→ You were caught by your stepdad, Ari Levinson, cross-dressing. The only condition for Ari not to tell on you was for him to fuck you while wearing the dress. 

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

You secretly wore women’s clothing, whether it was underwear, leggings, dresses, or typical everyday clothes. You felt more comfortable wearing them, and you always thought you looked hot in the mirror. You often secretly buy feminine clothes or try on your mother’s. 

You never told your mother about your cross-dressing, and you definitely didn’t tell your stepdad, Ari Levinson. You feared how both your parents might react, especially Ari. 

Ari Levinson was, excuse the cringe word, an alpha man. He was tall, standing at 6’0 "(182 cm), and muscular. With his chiseled body, as if the Greek God sculpted him themselves, and his bulging biceps, you can see why your mother fell in love with him. He was also very hairy, with bushy facial hair and a hairy chest, especially his happy trail that led down.

Whenever you cross-dress, you usually lock your door. Your mother didn’t care but Ari, on the other hand, did. He would say that you didn’t have to lock your door or that you could trust him. He would stand close to you, his rough hands grazing against your hips. He was weird at times.

You never understood why he acted like that but you never questioned it. 

XXX

Today was going to be a great day, you felt it. Your mother and Ari were both on separate business trips for two weeks. You were finally home alone after a long time, and you decided to use the time to try on the clothes you bought.

Ari was told the mission was called off and told to return home. He groans in annoyance at the waste of time but at least he gets to go home, especially since he gets to see you, his precious stepson. 

He knows he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself. He was practically obsessed with you ever since his wife, your mother, introduced you to him. He often touches himself to thoughts of you, using your boxers to jerk off, and other nefarious thoughts. He also prevented any man from ever having a relationship with you because of his mindset that you belong to him.

When he entered the house, he couldn’t hear the usual sounds of you playing games, laughing, or snoring. His loud footsteps rang as he walked towards the master bedroom, seeing that the door was cracked open.

Looking in, Ari’s jaw dropped as he saw you wearing revealing clothes. Tight leggings that hugged your luscious ass and thighs and a small skirt that barely covered anything. Ari’s cock jumps with excitement as he watches you twirl around and check yourself out. He was rubbing his bulge, burly hand rubbing over the tightening fabric, letting out quiet groans. 

You were blissfully unaware of Ari’s presence until two hands grabbed your hips. Already knowing who it was, you started panicking. “I-it not what it looks! It's… uhh.” You stuttered as you tried to explain, but there was no way you could change what was really happening. Your blabbering stopped when you felt something large and thick grinding against your ass.

“There’s no need for that, baby. It's quite obvious what’s going on here.” Ari said in a deep husky voice as his burly hands roamed your lower body before moving to the upper body. He groans as he grinds his bulge against your perky ass. You could feel him breathing down your neck.

“If you don’t want your mother to find out, you’ll do what I say.”

XXX

Your heart was beating rapidly and your breathing quickened. You were in the kitchen, making a simple meal for you and Ari. Following Ari’s order, you wore a skirt with no boxers and a shirt. The cold air was brushing against your bare ass and somewhat erect cock. There should be no reason why you’re getting turned on, but you were. 

Suddenly, you felt those same hands grab onto your hips, the same erection now grinding against your bare ass. You could now feel how big it was and it felt intimidating. “I always imagined you as this.” Ari's husky voice said as he leaned down into your ear. He started pressing small kisses around your nape and licking long stripes.

For some reason, it felt oddly domestic—something that is often between two lovers. You’ve never been in a relationship before, but now you can see the appeal: having someone to wake up to, someone to show you affection, and other special things. You started melting into Ari’s embrace, becoming vulnerable under his touch���

“I knew you cross-dressed. It was quite obvious, I’m surprised your mother didn’t find out. I’m not complaining though since I have you like this. My boywife…” Ari purrs as he unzips and pulls down both pieces of his garments. You can feel your stepdad's large cock pushing in between your thighs. Ari gasps from the warmth and softness of your thighs wrapping around his cock. 

Your breathing quickens with soft moans leaving your mouth. Ari started thrusting slowly, his large cock fucking your thighs. The area around you and Ari was hot, the sensation of sex making you feel like you were floating. The kitchen was filled with a combination of moans and groans. “Should’ve gone with you… you should’ve been with me! Not your mom… should’ve made you my stay-at-home boywife.” 

You could feel your face burning from what Ari said. You didn’t know Ari thought about that or even about you like that. Ari pulled you by the chin and pressed his lips against yours. Both of you melted into the kiss as the older man’s grip tightened, his thrust slowing down before pulling out.

“You taste so good, just as I imagined.” the older man says, pulling back to breathe before continuing. Using his strength, he manhandled you and brought you over to the kitchen counter. Your mind was shutting down from Ari’s actions. The sensation was euphoric; his scruffy beard scratched your chin and his soft lips and dominant tongue found its way into your mouth. 

Ari pulled back causing you to whine. “No need to whine. I’ll give you something much better.” The older man says as he lathers his fingers with saliva. After determining his fingers were wet enough, he slowly started pushing them toward the tight ring of muscle. You gasped as you felt Ari’s thick finger circling your hole before pressing inside.

“A-Ari!” You cried as your ass started clenching around the intrude. Ari groans from his fingers being sucked deeper into your velvety depths as adrenaline rushes through your veins, causing you to grasp onto Ari for support.

“It's okay, baby. I need you to breathe for me. That’s it, such a good boy.” Ari praises you, feeling your body calming down and becoming less tense. He pushed his fingers deeper till your rim touched the base of his digits. When Ari called you a good boy, you felt your body melt into him from the praise, your smaller body pressed against Ari’s much larger and hairy body. 

Your hands roam the older man’s chest, marveling at how muscular the older man was. You could see the skin twitch from your touches while Ari groans. 

Your cock has been neglected and Ari decided to give it the attention it needed. Using his other free hand, he wraps it around and starts stroking it. It was then Ari found the sweet spot and his fingers repeatedly touching your prostate. The house was filled with your moans from too much stimulation; your aching cock being stroked and your ass being stretched open with your stepdad’s thick fingers abusing your prostate.

“D-daddy… Need more.” You whined and whimpered as you began riding his fingers. Ari grins before pulling his fingers out and replacing them with something much bigger. You were confused until you felt something large and thick ram its way into your ass–breaching the ring of muscle as it pushed itself to the hilt and the cockhead pressed against your prostate.

“You feel so good wrapped around me… f-fuck… so tight for me. I could be inside you the whole day.” Ari growls as he aggressively thrusts into your tight hole. The echoes of skin-on-skin slapping and loud squelching rang through the house–maybe even next door because the walls were so thin. 

You instinctively wrapped your legs around the older man’s waist, pulling him closer and feeling his cock go deeper inside you. With Ari’s aggressive thrusts and his cock hitting the prostate, you couldn’t process anything that was going on, not even what Ari said next. “You don’t know how much effort I’ve gone to… To make sure you were untouched so I could be the one to… fucking hell… whisk you away.” Ari groans as he pulls you closer to him. His thrusts were getting sloppier signaling his climax.

Even though you were basically fucked dumb, you still understood, to some extent. Any man that you ever talked to or contacted suddenly no longer wanted to continue. All of them ran away and you went to your precious parents, especially your stepdad, for comfort. 

Despite Ari confessing to ruining your love life, you weren’t mad at him. A loud voice in your head told you to accept this man as your own, pushing aside the fact that he was married to your mother. “Gonna cum… cum with me,” Ari growls as he starts stroking your cock intensely.

You could feel the older man’s cock twitching inside, his heavy balls tightening as cum was pumping through the epididymis. Ari grabbed your head and pulled you towards his lips. At that same time, he gives one final thrust. Your cock was doing the same thing, it was throbbing badly as it was about to explode. 

Your body went boneless. Your aching cock spurts its load all over yours and Ari’s hairy chest. The older man lets out a low groan–his cock pumping thick cum deep inside, filling your stomach with an unfamiliar warmth. Ari pulled back before giving small kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

“Good boy. You’re perfect,” Ari says, pulling his softening cock out of your abused and puckered hole. A loud pop echoed as thick globs of cum oozed out, the counter and cabinets beneath painted white. 

After a few minutes in silence beside the quiet pants, reality set in. You had sex with your mother's husband of ten years, your stepdad. It feels so wrong but right at the same time. While you were having an internal crisis, Ari grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning you.

“Don’t feel ashamed. Your mother isn’t as fateful either. Once the divorce is finalized, I’m taking you with me.”

THE END

A/n: Hello, my strawberries! I hope this is good and congratulations on making it to 2025! Very special thanks to my proofreader @sagethegaywitch

Taglist: @buckyshusband0 @geminiflanagan69 @wolf-knights @sluttyhusband @zamfam4272 @ghostking4m @furiousflowercreation @spnfanboy777

[4linos]

twice the love

lee minho x fem!reader

synopsis/request: when you receive unexpected news, minho’s unwavering support becomes your anchor.

wc: 1237

You'd been feeling sick for weeks, nothing too serious, but enough to cause concern. It began with slight nausea in the mornings, which you downplayed as a stomach bug that will pass. But the exhaustion did not go away. You felt weak all the time, unable to finish a full day of work without wanting to nap or take a break. Some days, you couldn't force yourself to get out of bed, and Minho noticed, no matter how hard you tried. He has always done this. Minho had always been the more observant person in your relationship, noticing even the smallest changes in your attitude or behavior. And when it came to your health, he was unrelenting in his concern.

"Y/N, I don't like this," he murmured one morning, putting his fingers on your forehead to check for fever. "You have been like this for too long. You aren't just tired. Maybe it's time to go see a doctor." You quickly dismissed his worry. "It's fine, Minho. Really. It's probably a stomach bug. You know how it is." You tried to smile, but inside you were already terrified. You were afraid of going to the doctor, especially because you had no idea what was wrong. You hadn't really understood what was going on with your health, and you didn't want to hear any bad news.

Minho narrowed his eyes at you, but he knew not to push too hard. Instead, he replied softly, "Please. I hate seeing you like this. Just a checkup, okay? I just want to know that you're okay." You nodded, making a half-hearted promise, but deep down, you told yourself it wasn't necessary. You would be alright. Eventually.

It wasn't until a few days later that the discomfort became too severe to ignore. Your nausea had worsened, and you could no longer ignore the constant dizziness or strange aching in your lower belly. Something was clearly wrong, but you couldn't bring yourself to confront the thought of what it might be. Finally, after much internal struggle, you reluctantly scheduled an appointment. You could scarcely muster the bravery to enter into the antiseptic office, the frigid air within making you feel even more alone. The doctor took some blood tests and an ultrasound, and while you sat there waiting for the results, you could barely breathe. You tried to divert yourself by going through your phone, but your mind kept spiraling, imagining worst-case scenarios.

When the doctor walked in, he seemed calm, maybe too calm. He greeted you with a professional smile, which played a part in your anxiety. "Well, Y/N, I have the results," he said, and turned to the ultrasound screen. "You're pregnant." You froze. Pregnant? It did not even register at first. You stared at him blankly, your thoughts racing. "Pregnant?" you repeated, hoping that hearing the word again would help you understand it. "Are you sure?" The doctor nodded and motioned to the screen. "Yes. You're about a month along, and the ultrasound shows you're carrying twins."

It felt as if the world around you had stopped moving. You couldn't even digest the words completely. Twins? Pregnant? You were overwhelmed, surprised and part of you wanted to cry, but you weren't sure if it was out of fear or happiness. You never expected this. And certainly not under these conditions. It wasn't like you or Minho had planned for this. It had been so unexpected and quick that you felt a flood of panic wash over your body. The doctor offered you more information and scheduled another appointment to ensure everything was okay, but you couldn't hear him.

All you could think about was how to tell Minho.

You were mentally exhausted when you got home. Your body felt heavy, and the thoughts racing through your thoughts were too messy to process. You had assured Minho that you would be alright, and you did not want to break that promise. You didn't know how to tell him you were pregnant, much less that you were having twins. You had texted him earlier in the day to reassure him that everything was okay but you knew deep inside it wasn't true. You'd kept the news to yourself, reluctant to blurt it out. You assured yourself that it was for the best. He had a big day ahead of him, and you didn't want to overwhelm him with something that was so big. You needed to get your head around it first.

But now Minho was home. He walked in the door, his normal comfortable smile fading when he noticed your expression. He knew something wasn't right. He could know when anything was wrong without you saying anything. "How did it go?" he questioned softly, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of a response. You tried smiling, but it came out strained. You dug inside your purse and handed him the ultrasound image. You stayed silent, thinking he would understand.

He took it from you, and for a few while, neither of you spoke. His gaze shifted from the image to your face and back again. His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. Then his gaze softened, and his fingers trembled as he examined the ultrasound. "Twins?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible. You nodded, your heart racing in your chest. "I—I didn't know how to tell you," you stumbled. "I was really nervous, Minho. I wasn't sure how you'd react. Minho was silent for a long time, his attention fixed on the ultrasound. And then, just when you thought silence would take you whole, a tear rolled down his cheek.

Without saying anything, he reached for your waist and pulled you into his arms, as if he needed to hug you to make sense of his emotions. He buried his face against your neck, and his voice cracked as he said. "I can't believe this. Twins. "You're pregnant with our babies.”You felt a warmth spread through you that you had not anticipated. He wasn't upset. He was not angry. He was happy. The strain in your chest began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of release and awe. "I'm scared," you said softly, your voice quivering. "What if I'm not ready?"

Minho drew back slightly, holding your face in his hands, his thumbs softly brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had dropped. "You don't have to be ready right now," he said softly. "I will be here. We will be here together. We will sort it out, okay? I am so happy, Y/N. I—"I can't believe this is happening." He kissed you lightly at first, pressing his lips against yours as if to persuade you both that everything was well. However, it did not stay soft for long. The kiss intensified, and you felt all of your fear, worry, and joy flood through you in that one moment. When he finally pulled away, his face was flushed and his eyes were wide with amazement. "We're going to be parents, Y/N. And I’m going to be the best dad to our twins. I promise."

You smiled through your tears as your hands rested on his chest. "I know you will," you said quietly, the warmth of his hug erasing all your doubts.

The world outside was unknown, but when Minho wrapped his arms around you, you knew you weren't alone. You had each other. And that was enough.

//

masterlist, request list

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Aight aight we gotta talk. Get a snack, cause this is kind of a rant.

NOT SPOILER FREE!

Like I said before, things were really busy yesterday so while I did pull Zayne's card, I didn't actually get around to watching it until now. Prior to watching this I saw a lot of negativity surrounding discussions of this memory, Absolute Zeal. Lots of people complaining that they had problems with them "pretending to be strangers" and that the morning after felt like a "one night stand".

Allow me to offer some of my thoughts on this. Again, these are purely my thoughts on this memory, and if anyone didn't know, Zayne is my main so lemme have my moment to defend this card.

The only glaringly obvious problem I had with this one was the fact that MC intentionally let Zayne consume alcohol knowing he avoids it. Now to me, if someone says they dont eat/drink a certain thing, I go out of my way to make sure they don't end up consuming it. And she did it because why? She got flustered that Zayne admitted to having deep feelings for her and she got embarrassed? Not good enough and lazy writing imo.

Complaints about them pretending to be strangers. Imo, couples pretending to strangers sometimes is not new. MC was just trying to get him to admit something deeper beyond his normal care for her, and it looks like she got more than she asked for with him admitting that the thought of life without her would be the definition of true loneliness. Now moving on to the aftermath.

We know Zayne is a lightweight. It's no surprise that he got tipsy. And once MC sees what happened to him, it does look like she regretted her actions and obviously tries to comfort him through this process. Btw, I thought tipsy Zayne was adorable, the way the VA was slurring his words was really cute. MC keeps insisting on giving Zayne hangover pills which he refuses and he keeps trying to initiate things with her, and she does do a decent job warding off his attention at the beginning because he's drunk.

Now here's where a lot of the discussions I read seem to baffle me. A lot of people seem to be equating Zayne's advances on MC as almost grapey. Like how drunk men take advantage of women then try to excuse their behavior because they had been drinking. I simply didn't get this vibe here? MC and Zayne have established a lot together and I genuinely feel that MC would have firmly said no if she wasn't feeling it and Zayne would have listened to her.

Secondly, MC doesn't seem to know that Zayne loses control of his evol when inebriated. Granted, there doesn't seem to be a set of fixed criteria for this to happen, so it was a coin toss imo. But when she does see it happening, she realizes her mistake and is so soft with him, reassuring him that she loves him and that he doesn't need to change anything about himself. People seemed to almost blame her saying she did this for the sake of fun and she wanted him to lose control? Maybe she did but not in this way.

Zayne on the other hand seemed almost insecure when drunk, perhaps because he knows how in control he is and he may have felt a surprising sense of freedom when he saw how he was? Basically put, he wasn't aware of how the alcohol would affect him and perhaps he saw himself as more easygoing in that moment? There's going to be insecurity and vulnerability in relationships, especially long term ones. Like geez, give the guy a break. Things like this happen, it's natural to be awkward when you're stepping out of your comfort zone.

To him, he feels like he's breaking rules like drinking alcohol and being uncharacteristically dominating over MC, but maybe alongside that confusion there's also a rush of excitement that he could be this person? There's a lot happening, and I can appreciate his struggle in not knowing how to process this.

Now the other thing that people seem to be complaining about; something about Zayne and MC being shy around each other the morning after and acting like they had a one night stand instead of being a couple that's been together for some time. Couples can still feel awkwardness with each other no matter how long they've been together if they do something that is new or out of the norm for them.

As someone that's been married for a significant amount of time, I'd like to say that due to reasons, my husband doesn't drink either, and I drink very sparingly. If he had done something very out of character regarding sex, I think both of us would have been shy while we have the discussion afterwards. It's not out of character.

And both of them needed to get his car back from the hospital and return to work. They found reassurance in their relationship being there for them despite them being busy. Because at the end of the day, people can go for hours without talking while at work (speaking from personal experience here) and also be perfect cuddlebugs when you're both back at home.

Zayne here gets the affirmation that MC always loves him despite his controlled, slightly colder presentation, and MC gets to see that Zayne is willing to anything for her, even be drunk and be this alternate version of himself of that's what makes her happy.

I didn't see anything in this card that made me hate it or even think it wasn't hot. It was INCREDIBLY spicy, especially him saying things spiral out of control when she's around. It's said in such a ragged way, like he's almost in awe of what he's willing to do for her. In the end, it feels like they didn't quite have sex but there was definitely an intense makeout session and some wandering hands for sure. Which I feel would be more in character for them not wanting to take advantage of his drunkeness.

People saying Zayne will never initiate something hot like this again because he was only doing it while drunk? Zayne does initiate, it's just more subtle than this. And now that he's seen that MC isn't opposed to being a little manhandled, he might do it again perfectly sober. A lot of his control comes from his insecurity of imagining how life would be without her.

So to people hating on this card, I almost feel like you're being critical of the fact that Zayne and MC seem to be the most "married". Marriage and even long term relationships have partners go through bouts of doubt and insecurity but that in no way reflects the depth of the relationship.

There. End rant. Sorry for unloading so much on New Years. Have an awesome day my lovelies!

[spencahreadreid]

"Baby, listen" S.R

spencer smut!! female reader, nipple play (a little), traffic light system (safe word not used), light bondage, daddy kink, Dom Spencer, friends to lovers, aftercare at the end, one mention of sub-space, no y/n!!

idk how long this is, but probably one of the longest fics I've written I would love feedback, if I missed any warnings please lmk!! im literally terrible at these things so please bear with me

Spencer had been your friend at the BAU for a few months now, being the youngest agents you immediately became close. This meant movie nights, coffee dates and occasional library visits together. All of those are platonic of course, he'd never see you any other way.. right? Today had been a long day at the BAU, not a case but hours of paperwork lined up with barely any break. Yeah, it was terrible but everyone was just grateful no one had been in danger.

By the end of the day, you were exhausted, so were the rest of the team. Before you went to leave, you decided to clear your desk. Throwing your empty coffee cup into the trashcan beside your seat, you stopped when footsteps sounded behind you.

"Hi." A low voice. You turned to see Spencer Reid, smiling, his satchel across his body. He had one hand down by his side, a brown paper bag in it.

"Hey Spence! You going home?" You turned to him with a sweet smile, tilting your head.

"Yeah, hopefully not alone.. Uh-" he paused for a second. Lifting the bag, he placed it in your hands, now it was closer to your face you could smell the familiar sweet pastry. He would do this sometimes, stop at the bakery around ten minutes away from the building and pick up something for you.

"Thank you, but who were you hoping to have over?" The usual, act as if you had no idea, mostly to tease him. His lips curved into a small smile, mumbling "You".

You both laughed at his seemingly sheepish response, and you followed him out to his car. After the long drive you both settled down on his couch, and like always, he put on Star Trek. Tucking into the sweet treat he brought you, you offered him a bite before wrapping the blanket over both of you.

While the episode was on, you found your eyes drifting to him, his hands, the way he had been manspreading under the blanket since the show had started. But what your mind was on the most is the new wet feeling in your underwear, the fabric suddenly sticky. 'Please not now' the only thought you had besides how good the man  beside you looked right now.

The TV continued playing, and it felt like an hour before he spoke again, you took in none of it before he tried again. "Are you alright darling?"

Holy fuck. Darling?!? You turned to him with a smile, he could tell it was fake, hes not the only profiler here. He never called you that, he'd let a pet name slip sometimes but it was always a joke.

"Yeah, I'm good" as soon as you said it he knew you were lying. Either way, he nodded and turned back to the screen, this time he took more occasional glances at you. You weren't even sure how you had gotten turned on so easily. It was just the sight of him. It was that easy.

Before you could stop yourself, your thighs clenched to try ease the friction, pulling the blanket slightly. Shit. He looked over and caught the movement before you could act as if nothing happened. He knew. He definitely knew and now you couldn't take it back, your brows furrowed.

"Baby-" he tried.

"Listen, this is really embarrassing-" and you cut him off until he started again.

"No no, look at me" his hand met your chin, pulling your gaze to meet his and you could've melted. Your breath hitches, the corner of his mouth curving into a slight smirk, something you'd never seen before.

"Are you feeling alright?" You could only nod, head barely moving but he saw it. The look in his eyes changed, voice seemed lower.

"Do you want this?" It was almost a whisper but it seemed so loud to you, watching his lips move, like only he existed. He waited, his thumb caressing your cheek and you nodded for a second time. Stripping the blanket off his lap, he patted his clothed thigh, inviting you to sit.

Obviously you did. Why would you deny sitting on your hot co-workers lap? When would you ever be in the right mind to decline that offer?! Shuffling over, you swung one leg over his, settling down on his right thigh. Your chests brushed before his hands came to rest lightly on your hips, fingers teasing over the fabric of the skirt you chose for work.

Hands on his shoulders, you met Spencers eyes again and they looked so beautiful. His eyes however, quickly moved to your lips, and soon you came in contact. The kiss was needy, long awaited and you could feel the amount of desperation that came with his movement. One hand on the back of your neck, one on your hip he slowly began guiding you back and forth over his thigh. Lightly pushing up your skirt, the pleasure hit almost immediately.

It was exactly what you were needing earlier that night, you moaned into his mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. When you pulled back, his eyes looked into yours almost pleading, nimble fingers moving to your blouse.

"Yes, yes take it off!" Nodding, hips still seeking pleasure, jeans rubbing against your covered clit perfectly. With all the movement he struggled with the buttons, you both laughed as you stilled long enough for him to get the first few undone. After three of them, he caught sight of your black lace bra, a sound left him and he tugged, the shirt popping open, buttons flying and hitting various things around his living room.

You gasped, not understanding how it could've been so attractive. Spencer stood up with no warning, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, his arms holding you up under your thighs, skirt still rolled up over your stomach. His apartment was small, the walk to his bedroom feeling as if it took two seconds.

He let you go when his knees hit the bed, you scrambled back using your hands. This is when he could really see you in all your glory, legs spread, underwear soaked around the middle, face flushed and hair messy, bra still on. 'Can't wait to see that off' his brain called to him. Worry about that later.

"Colour?" He'd asked, but it sparked confusion in you. His eyes softened as he took in the situation, you didn't know what this was. But then the look of recognition came over you, panting out "Green, so green"

Spencer smiled "Good girl. Just tell me if that changes for you."

A nod of confirmation had him moving closer, crawling onto the bed between your thighs. Pulling down the skirt came first, then hooking his fingers under your underwear. When he came into sight of you his breath hitched, mouth opened as if he was about to speak but he never did.

You waited, waited so patiently for something to happen, maybe a reaction from him. As soon as your head tilted back you felt his hot breath over your thigh, then your core. It was almost a battle to keep your hips down on his bed, he noticed this and brought his arm down to keep you still.

He didn't make contact, he had you held down, his face just inches away, mouth almost touching you.

"Spencer" you tried to move, which was funny because before that you were doing so much to stop yourself from moving. It had taken so long for things to get to this point, and now he wasn't doing anything.

Spencer smirked up at you, moving in slowly, lips wrapping around your clit. Hands finding his soft brown curls, you tugged him closer, thighs spreading wider. His tongue soon came into the picture, licking a stripe up your slit, before moving them down to your hole. A moan escaped your lips, before you felt something prodding at you. His middle finger slipped into you and you immediately tightened around the digit, Spencer moved slowly, not wanting to bring you to the edge yet.

He didn't know how fast you would get close, so he alternated between speeds, you pleaded but he wouldn't stay consistent.

That's when it slipped.

"Please daddy!" hips thrashing, but then slowing when the realization kicked in. No fucking way.

"What was that?" Spencer lifted himself, his finger still inside you. Now you were face to face it was so much more embarrassing. When you didn't speak, he pulled out, causing you to whine.

"Say it again." he moved closer to you, crawling over on his knees. Stopping beside you, he slowly began to undo his belt, your arms flew up but he caught your wrists in his hands.

"Absolutely not, you don't get to touch me until you repeat that." again, no room for argument. You wanted to fight back, but that mindset disappeared when he took both your wrists into one of his hands. His free hand moves to his tie, undoing the knot, pulling it from under his collar. Eyes widening, you go to speak, he assesses the fear but also the way your pupils dilate.

Desire.

"You're safe with me alright? We can stop at any time, just say the word." with that, he begins binding both your hands together. When they're all done, he loops the end around the metal of his headboard. "Too tight?" Tugging lightly, with a shake of your head you confirmed they wouldn't slip off. If only you'd just done what he said.

His belt already discarded, he moves off the bed and to the end of it. Using the restraints as leverage, you pull yourself up to watch him. Button of his slacks, then the zipper and they're suddenly on the floor at the end of the bed. The sight of him made your whole body feel warm. Spencer in his boxers... The outline of him, the length, the thickness of his dick. You could swear you would've been drooling if your mouth was open.

"Still good over there, pretty girl?" to him you looked spaced out, clearly not catching the pure awe behind your current blank expression.

"I'm- yeah I'm good." nodding, voice slightly broken, needy, wanting.

"Are you ready?" you hummed back to him, but that's not what he wanted.

"I'll ask you again." his voice slightly more stern, you swallowed hard.

"Are you ready? Use your big girl words this time." That could've sent you spiraling. As you focused on finding your words, he stripped of his shirt. Spencers hands made it to the waistband of his boxers, he looked up for your answer.

"Yes daddy" to which he responded, "There's my girl."

Lifting himself onto the mattress between your legs once again, you waited with bated breath, eyes staring up at him. He took himself into his hand, stroking lightly as he approached you, teasing his tip against your slit. He didn't push in fully, he kept his tip barely in you before pulling down the straps of your bra.

"Daddy-" you pleaded, no shame this time. Shifting your hips upward, he dipped further in but pulled back out of you, leaving a light slap on your outer thigh. He didn't want to hurt you, not without you discussing it before, but the moan you let out earned you a warning of; "Patience."

He went back to his first act, before you'd rudely interrupted with your needy gestures. One hand cupped your left breast, squeezing it in his palm, then his right hand went to pinch your right nipple between his thumb and index finger. You were starting to get uncomfortable, the growing need feeling almost too much.

"Spencer, please fuck me!" it was practically a cry. As long as it got the point across, you didn't care how it sounded, pathetic or not. When he looked down at you, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up any longer. He'd been holding back, putting up the front that he could keep himself together around you.

He couldn't. He couldn't wait anymore.

He grabbed the pillow from next to your head, the one he always imagined you sleeping on next to him, shoving it under your hips. He slipped inside of you, you both gasped, his head tipped back. You would've seen this if your eyes hadn't rolled back into your head, the feeling of him finally inside you taking over your whole body.

"Fuck! Fuck- Oh God!" you lifted your legs, pulling them to your chest. He pushed further in, as if you weren't full enough. "So good baby- Shit! Taking me so fucking good." Spencer swearing, something you never thought would turn you on so much, but it did.

"So good daddy- So go-od!" your voice broke as he began to thrust into you. There were atleast three that kept to the same pace, the next ones were uncoordinated. Your hips slapped with a wet sound and you clenched around him, he held your legs up to take some of the responsibility off of you.

You looked absolutely beautiful in his eyes, mascara smudged, eyes gleaming with tears, hands gripping the tie you'd been bound with. The bed rocked, both of you now sure his neighbours hate you, the once quiet neighbour now has a girl practically screaming in his room.

Both of you could care less, infact the only thing in your head was how deep he reached inside you, and in his head, how tight you were clenching around him. His thumb came to rub small circles over your clit, his other hand keeping your legs up so he fit better.

You fought hard not to cum, but you could tell he was close too, twitching inside of you. By this point he could barely look at you, scared the sight of you under him would bring him over the edge of his orgasm. That's when your meek voice called out.

"Daddy, I'm- I'm close" you breathed out, hands tugging at the tie around your wrists, hips bucking up under him. He nodded, you couldn't tell whether it was confirmation to do it or agreeing with you until he spoke. "It's okay, that's- that's okay, you're gonna cum with me. Wait for me." pushing on your lower stomach.

You nodded, trying to speak, trying to say something to let him know you understood before he slammed down harder into you. Spencer watched as your mouth dropped open, drool spilling from the corner of your lips, his hips faltered before moaning out; "Cum for me, cum on my cock"

You did, hard, with a cry of "Daddy!" before you felt him spill inside of you, his eyes screwing shut, mouth dropping to an 'o'. You were so glad you could witness that.

Whining as he pulled out, he soothed you with small "shh" sounds, pulling on the knot of your D.I.Y restraints and slipping his tie off your wrists, arms dropping to the bed almost immediately. Head lolling to the side, you shut your eyes, taking deep breaths as he made his way out and to the bathroom.

Footsteps returned, Spencers soft voice calling out to you. "Baby, we need to get you cleaned up" you were half asleep by now, either way you took in his words. You nodded sleepily and let him wipe up your inner thighs, both your cum mixed together as it dripped out of you. He left the rag by the laundry basket and brought a lotion bottle from the desk in the corner back to the bed with him. He soon urged you to sit up, covers over your lap as he caressed your slightly red wrists, squirting out some lotion onto each one and rubbing it until the soothing cream disappeared.

Spencer suddenly felt guilty, and when your eyes opened slightly to admire him you noticed the regret. "Daddy?" you were still in some kind of sub-space.

"Are you okay?" your voice spoke again, his eyes were now on you, you sounded so small, so vulnerable. He nodded, hand stroking gently through your hair, kissing your forehead, turning to switch the lamp off before you let out a sound of protest. He nodded in understanding and refrained from crowding the room in darkness, you cuddled up into him, settling under the sheets together.

[silkenwinger]

daimon

mdni. ancient greece AU. princess!reader x guard!ghost. heavily inspired by antigone (but it ends well :)). 7k. tw for suicide attempt, maybe slight dubcon (mention of wine drank before sex)

The room was cold as you finished fastening your black peplum. It had been a cold autumn, mountain winds bruising sore skin. It was the autumn your life ended.

Your brother. So brave. You remembered running with him among the olive trees and tripping on the roots as you trailed him. Your mother had yelled at you so much you remembered the sting of the tears on your cheek.

But you had grown. Your father, the king, dead by the plague by spring, followed by your frail mother. Your brother away east. When he’d returned along with his men, he found the city he was supposed to lead in the hands of the most powerful merchant, a man as crooked as rich. We thought he was dead, said the men of the city. Lost in the barren hell of the east, gone for too many years. And when he tried to enter the city, he was met with violence and bronze. As expected, your brother did not lie down, but fought to retake the throne. He now laid in the place he died still, eaten by vultures and dogs alike. His soul stuck between the living and the dead, forever restless.

Profane he was taking something that was not his, and profane he was not burying your brother. 

“I’ve decided, then. Take care.”

Your dearest maid, her loyalty unmatched, did not comprehend.

“Princess, you must stop this talk at once!” She cried, clutching at your vest. “You know The Shepherd is a cruel man, but you will marry his son. Going against the decree…”

You scoffed. Being kin with that monster would be worse than being dead.

“I no longer care about marrying. Honoring my brother is more important,” you brushed your hand against her thin shoulder, and moved away, but with pain. No time for lost love.

“I have been wearing the black for half a year. Did you know? The moment I heard my brother was alive, I cried real tears of joy. I would no longer be alone in the world.” You sat down on your wooden couch, looking down. “And two nights later he is dead. I never even got to see his face again.” If you strained your memories, you could make out a ghost of a smile, of a laugh, but you couldn’t be certain they were his.

“The King is unfair, that much is true,” mumbled your maid, “but you go against certain death. The law says it, anyone who buries your brother is to be stoned in the square!”

“I know,” you looked up to see her shocked face, “so I heard.”

She cried then, howling. Her grief for you moved the strings of your heart, but did not dissuade you. You died the other day: your last act would be making sure you could see your brother in Hell, along with your parents. Hooding yourself, you left your room, the only place in the palace you could still call yours, by the lesser known way, one that passed through a less surveilled zone of the palace.

He looked old. No, not old: older, his skin worn by the sun. Tall, and strong, and dead. You remembered well– he smiled like that, a lightning bolt in the fair weather. 

Hurried, you acted fast. You covered his body with a thin layer of dust. That is enough, for now, you thought, as you couldn’t bear to look at him any longer.

The path you took made sure you were hidden from the guards. You wondered how many of them saw your brother grow, train and live: and how could they bear to leave him there, alone and doomed. 

The darkness of the road calmed you. The sting of the broken law was nothing compared to the peace you felt inside. 

But the sting of the hand grabbing your arm was real. A tall shadow made it so you couldn't move.

“What are you doing here?” Asked the Ghost, one of the main palace guards. A real enigma, that one. He did not recognise you immediately, hidden as you were. But your voice would tell on you. Perhaps, at the start, you could have wanted to do what you did without being discovered, but you had changed your mind. You did not care for the Shepherd’s decision.

“I was just doing my daily offering at the temple,” you told him, and his eyes, the only visible part of his face, widened in recognition. He then started glaring at you, obvious suspicion brewing.

“At this time and alone? It is unsafe for you.” 

“Should I have left the house in the daylight so close to my brother’s death?”

He remained silent at your response. The Ghost never saw or knew your brother– you wouldn’t blame him if he had only distaste for his attack on the city. He was probably only an enemy to him, and not the boy who giggled at the comedies and puppet shows.

The Ghost had arrived in the city around four years before. Immediately, he’d attracted the attention of everyone, men and women, for the mask he wore on his face and his mysterious attitude. No one knew where he came from, or how he really was called, and would answer only to Ghost. His accent had been weird, and his behavior even more so. Whispers said he was a barbarian driven away from his country for having killed too many. His ruthlessness was legendary: he’d torn apart limbs and eyes of the few criminals that dared venturing into your palace. They even called him a demon that fed on his victims' souls. You had never spoken, but you’d seen him around, mostly guarding your father’s rooms, now occupied by the Shepherd. What was he doing outside, too, for that matter.

“Will you kindly let me go, now?” You tugged your arm away, but he did not relent.

“I ought to bring you back.” You just looked up at him then, at his unreadable eyes, and nodded, resigned.

The walk was silent, but not unpleasant. You kept thinking about what you’d done and oscillating between being proud and feeling an overwhelming distress inside of you. The Ghost kept at your back, his steps more silent than yours despite the difference in sizes.

“Good night then. Do not leave the house unaccompanied,” he made sure to reprimand as he left you at your door. You shrugged: leaving it accompanied meant worse for you.

Four nights after his death, your brother still laid in the dust. You could not be placated along with the pain in your chest. The guards, noticing the thin layer of earth on the corpse, had reported to the Shepherd that someone had attempted to bury your brother, thus breaking the law. 

It is clear, you thought. You will die either way, inside your room or stoned to death: you might as well bury your brother properly. That time, your maid didn’t even cry: she had resigned herself as well.

They grabbed you while your back was to them, crouching on the corpse. The Ghost stood tall behind the guards: you locked eyes with him and could not tell what he was thinking. Was he maybe regretting not arresting you the first time he found you outside?

Once you were brought to your feet, he made a soundless gesture, and the other guards offered you to him. He grabbed you then, alone, and started dragging you to the palace.

The Shepherd, your father’s successor, had no regard for you. Despite being betrothed to his son before your father even passed, he made no qualms about taking what was your brother’s by right, and would not hesitate sending you to your death. 

“Come, girl. It was you, I imagined.” He spoke, up in the throne where your father once sat. The sight filled you with a bright anger, which then turned into muted despair, to end in cold apathy. It was not coming back. It would never come back.

You stood silent in front of a dozen men.

“You know what the price is, do you? I made sure the heralds read the decree many times, right outside here, as well.”

You nodded. The Shepherd tilted his bald head to you, regarding your figure more like an insect than a noble woman. The men of the council, shiveling, cowardly men, murmured at your admission of guilt.

“You broke the law. What made you think you could do that?”

You inhaled then, and made yourself taller. 

“The laws of the gods came before yours. It is wicked not to bury the dead.” The murmuring ceased at your words, an oppressive miasm falling over the room.

“But he declared war on the city. I protected the inhabitants, and you as well.” The Shepherd replied, unbothered. He was well aware he was going against a non written law, but did not care.

“That does not matter to me. I would bury a murderer.”

“And murderer he was, bringing fire and weapons to this peaceful city.” He laughed at you. You felt ire overflowing your judgement.

“How dare you? My brother was the heir to the throne!” You yelled, and the Ghost shaked you hard. You glowered at him and all you got as a reply was a brown eyed glare.

“Your brother was a fool, who ignored your poor father’s requests to return several times! And this,” he clutched the scroll, “declares me as the heir to the King!” 

You shook your head. Your father had been less lucid the last years of his life, and even cussed out your brother for not returning from his childish dreams of conquering. But he'd never make the Shepherd his heir: he even confessed to you he couldn't stand the man. 

“I do not accept you as King of the city. That is the truth of it.” You tried to keep a steady voice, but you were trembling. The hold on your shoulders got tighter. Why was the Ghost clutching you so severely? He couldn’t possibly be afraid for you: maybe his loyalty to the Shepherd was such that he’d kill you yourself.

The men of the council, men who had seen you grow, looked pale in the dim light of the morning. How long had you been outside? You felt like you’d seen your brother for only a second.

“I see, then,” spoke the Shepherd, as he rose from the throne. 

“You’ve decided to declare yourself an enemy of this state, as your brother before you. The sentence for going against the edict is stoning.” First rose muttering, and then louder voices, and then shouts. The vile men protested, outraged, but the Shepherd shot them down with a steady hand.

“As the past princess of this city, and betrothed to my son, I ought to not expose you with such an execution. See how they cry for you still? Would they hold the same respect for you had you been a thief, a conman? Yet you are guilty to the same degree.”

“That is not true!” Cried a voice, close or far. “She committed a sacred act!”

“Who dares go against me!” Shouted the Shepherd, but no one showed their face. He made an hissing noise then, red in the face.

“All that break the laws must be punished. How else are we supposed to live civilly?” He then moved his gaze back to you.

“I condemn you to be walled alive, and your brother will stay unburied until his bones turn to dust. His body will feed the soil of this splendid city.” 

This is it, then. The rest of your days. The shame of disrobing did not fall on you, yet. This would be your salvation from starving. The damp cave amplified the sound of all of your actions. Biting the gentle cloth, you tore a strip of the fabric from your skirt, testing its resistance. As you calculated the distance between the ground and the wooden rod on the cave ceiling, you heard steps approaching. The door, that could only be opened from outside, revealed two tall figures, dressed in typical military garb. The Ghost, clad in his dark attire, got closer to you, sword in hand. Ah. That was it, then. 

“Have you come to kill me yourself, then?” You told him. He said nothing, just got even closer, long strides and deadly silent. He grabbed you, again, and you let yourself be taken. The other guard, with piercing blue eyes, just looked at the Ghost with a doubting expression. The Ghost started dragging you out of the corridor, and that was when you pointed your feet down, tears filling your eyes.

“What is going on? I won’t be shamed now. I’ve already been condemned.” You cried, afraid. More afraid now than when you were going to hang yourself, for your hand would be merciful, but the Ghost’s wouldn’t. He stopped then, and looked in your eye. He seemed weirdly reluctant.

“Keep quiet, now. You won’t die today.” Unintelligently, you muttered your surprise. The Ghost started dragging you along again, the other guard becoming smaller and smaller in your view.

You walked, and walked, and walked through the night and the city and the fields. Exhausted, you had to stop often, even for just a moment. The Ghost looked at you with distaste then, like he regretted ever taking you away from your attempt at your life.

“You can’t even walk a mile without bending on yourself,” he spit out. For his indecency and rudeness, you struck him across the face, hand making contact with the black muslin of his mask. The slap barely moved him and he growled, and you expected him to finally retaliate and penetrate you with his sword. But he just turned on himself and started walking again.

“If you had told me where you’re taking me, I would not have struck you,” you tried to bargain. He sighed then, clearly thinking you insufferable.

“You have allies in the city. As the true King’s daughter,” you gasped at his words, tongue curling around the r’s in an odd, mesmerizing way.

“But they all voted in favor of the Shepherd taking power.”

“You know it’s because of the secrets and extortions he has on them. He’s no dearer to them than a tyrant.” You closed your mouth then, pondering. Could the city go back to having a proper king, one that respected the Gods’ laws?

“So you are my friend,” you said simply. He swallowed at that.

“I am… your protector. For the time being.”

You nodded. He, too, was now an enemy of the state, by association.

“I thank you then. Even though I would not have minded joining my family.”

He remained silent at that. A while after, he spoke again.

“We need to stop for a few hours at least. And you’ll need male clothing,” he simply said. You hid in a cave, wider and longer than the one that was supposed to hold you in your death. The Ghost lit up a small fire near the opening, and you watched him as he stroked it, pensive. Perhaps he, too, was thinking about what he left.

“Ghost,” you called, tone uncertain, “can I call you that?”

He nodded without taking his eyes off the fire.

“How… What is going on back home? Who hired you?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he replied to your second question. “As for back home, we placed a corpse in your place to give us a head start.”

“Someone else died for me,” you whispered, upset in your soul. You had been ready to kill yourself.

“He was already dead,” spoke the Ghost, weirdly demure. “One dead instead of two.”

“But…”

“Enough of that. You do not deserve to die for burying your brother. It is as simple as that.” You were stunned into silence by the determination of his words. So far, you’d thought he was only hired to do what his employer asked him. But now, you saw he agreed with your stance. For some reason, you felt pride in yourself bloom.

“Where are you taking me, then?”

“I know a place,” he said, “where you won’t be found.”

Something moved in your heart, again. He was being remarkably gentle for a butcher.

You fell asleep some time after, warmed by the fire. 

When you woke up, Ghost was nowhere to be seen. You looked deeper in the cave, but made your way back when you couldn’t see the light anymore. When you reached the entrance again, you heard someone call your name. 

“Come, then,” Ghost told you as you made your way down the cave’s entrance, back to more stable terrain and the spare tree. A small river ran to the side of the plain. Ghost was clutching a leather bag, ruffling around it crudely. His eyes could have almost betrayed embarrassment. 

“I know nothing of princesses’ dresses. Will this suffice?” He held up a man’s tunic, to which you raised an eyebrow. The Ghost was an odd fellow, and you’d be indebted to him for the rest of your life. That didn’t mean you would understand all of his actions.

“You told me yourself I had to dress like a man.”

“True. I was rude about it.” Your eyebrow raised even higher. An apology… or a statement as close to it as possible. You didn’t think the city’s terror was even capable of that.

“No, you were right. I will change.” You grabbed his offering with shaking hands. Once you’d switched your black clothes for the off white tunic behind the tree, you tried to look at your figure in the stream’s reflection. There was little difference between men and women’s clothes, besides the face that your lower legs were now exposed. You’d wear your hood to conceal your female face, but also your upper body. You tugged at the Ghost’s wrist. He looked at you then, dragging his eyes from your face to your feet. You felt an odd sensation making its way up your back.

“Shall we go then?”

“Yes.”

You walked in the market, among the people and the animals. It was weird to not open a road every time you showed in a public place: and even weirder to walk side to side with a man. You looked up at Ghost, again, and you found him inspecting the surroundings with thin eyes.

“Are you hungry?” He asked you, like a wet nurse might ask her toddler. The image of the Ghost tending to a small child was so comical, a giggle left your mouth. You were quick to shut your mouth, but he caught you anyway. His expression was baffled.

“Yes, I am. Sorry,” you apologised. You had only eaten some bread all day, and maybe the hunger was making you silly. He accosted a stand and bought pears and bread from the farmer, who took a long look at you. Probably wondering why a man would bring his slave boy to the market, you realized with shame, and looked down.

You ate the sweet pears and the bread with the cheese under a tree’s shadow while Ghost kept watch. 

“Would you like to sit?” You asked him politely.

“No.” He simply said, and kept watching the horizon. You sighed into your food. Still alone, but at least not famished. Your march began anew, the male tunic proving itself to be more comfortable. Still, you felt somewhat exposed, especially in Ghost's eyes. Every time you locked eyes, you found yourself looking away first. There was something about this man that left you exposed besides your legs. Like a plow moves the earth.

Did he even sleep? He was awake when you were, and he kept watch when you slept. Later, hidden in another, smaller cave, you voiced your concerns to him. He raised one eyebrow.

“Afraid, princess? That I will fall while I watch you? I’ve been a guard almost longer than you’ve been alive.” You rolled your eyes at his pride and the humorous tone of his voice. Many men’s fall was their excessive confidence.

“Should I not worry for my only companion in life?”

That shut him up quickly. He just regarded you then, shifting on his feet. Clearly uncomfortable with the truth. When he decided to speak again, what he said shocked you most.

“I saw your brother die.”

Hearing a strange noise, only after a second you realised you were the one making it.

“Did you kill him?” You asked, voice tight. Ghost shook his head.

“The Shepherd’s men shot arrows at his back while he was fighting. He was a great warrior.” You sniffed hearing his words. You knew, you knew your brother would fight to his death, you’d seen his ruined body bloated but dressed for war. 

“It’s not honorable. Shooting a man in the back.” He said simply, holding your gaze. His body began to warp and look odd as water filled your eyes.

“Thank you for telling me this,” you whispered, and he nodded, finally sitting next to you. If you dried your tears on his wide shoulder, no one else saw you.

Your journey lasted more days than you imagined. Everytime you asked the question to Ghost, he would only answer soon. He saw you pray at the gods’ altars: Hermes, Artemis, Athena, Zeus. He never prayed himself, or placed offerings that you didn’t tell him to place, which at the start unnerved you and then made you curious.

“Where do you come from?” Your conversations usually started with a question from you and ended with a reply from him. But you didn’t think he was a too dire debate partner, anyway.

“From far away.”

“Stop treating me as if I’m stupid.” You did hate his dismissal ways, sometimes.

“I’m not lying,” he hissed from between his teeth, “I come from so far away, I wouldn’t even know how to go back home.” That intrigued you. The twists and turns of his journey would surely make for a great story. But you hoped you could arrive at your destination.

“Then we are the same,” you decided to reply, “both without a home.”

He sighed, oddly softly. You thought that was an interesting reaction, and nestled closer to him.

When you were too far away from a market, or from farmers who would sell their fares to Ghost, he would go hunting. You’d beg and beg to let him teach you how to shoot an arrow (you’d always dreamed to be a brilliant hero of the stories), and he always categorically refused to do it. But, extraordinarily, he did teach you something. He taught you briefly how to fish, so long as you had a needle; he taught you what weeds were good to eat. Dirtying your hands felt weird at first, but you were quickly motivated by the pings of hunger in your belly.

Finally, you reached another settlement. Your surprise was evident seeing so many people prepare for a feast. You asked a busy woman what was going on: she looked at you as if you had grown another head, and simply said “the Dionysia”. What joy, then. Drinking, dancing, singing. You hadn’t heard a joyful bard or a musician since before your parents died. Smiling, you turned to your brooding companion.

“Can we stop for the festival, Ghost?” You pled him.

He looked irritated at your request. 

“What will happen if you get recognized, hmm?”

“I am a mere daughter. I’m no danger to whoever sits the city throne now.”

“You can’t rule, that much is true,” he took his big hand and grazed at your belly with the back of his fingers, making your skin goosebump, “but what of the sons of your womb? And what do you think happens in these festivals? You must have seen it too, the men with the courtesans.” You blushed at his implications.

“You… you heathen! Are you not here to protect me?” He scoffed at your protests and at the light punches you threw at his chest, but he paid the inn for the day and you beamed at him. He’d even called you his wife to the innkeeper– the action had made your blood surge, but then you pathetically remembered you could never marry anymore.

You both drank a little, but not too much, you to not get too drunk, him to both integrate and not lose his mind. It was exhilarating, taking part in a feast as a common person and not a noble. Nobody but Ghost was looking at you, and you were free to do as you pleased. Nobody in the village had cared that you were a woman, the people just happy to have two more that would pray for the wellness of the settlement. 

“Should I go dancing?” You asked him, raising to your feet while he kept sitting down.

Incredibly, he laughed. Your mouth hung in awe. It was a husky sound, much like all of him. Immediately, you wanted to hear more.

“Silly girl, you’re dressed as a boy! You’ll look odd, moving to the girls’ dance.” Blushing, you sat back down again. There was so much you didn’t know or you had taken for granted due to your higher position, and Ghost never sweetened the hard truth with honey. As much as the noble girl had died with the rest of your family, this common one wasn’t quite born yet. A warm hand came to hold the back of your neck, gently petting it.

“You looked beautiful dancing at the palace,” you heard his voice low in your ear, his breath warm on your cheek. His mouth, red and soft, was exposed in order for him to drink and eat. “I remember your dress, that summer. Once we arrive, I’ll buy you a similar one.” 

He must have been speaking about the day of your bethronal to the Shepherd’s son, the biggest event you had ever been the protagonist of. You danced for a whole day. What had happened to your betrothed, that older boy? You had no way of knowing, but he didn’t defend you from his father. You knew even back then that he did not like you much, and he was probably ecstatic that you died to the city. 

“Are we close to arriving?” He started petting your cheek then, even brushing his thumb against your lips.

“Yes, very close, sweet thing.” He then blinked and drew away, as if he realised what he was doing. You wished he would keep touching you.

Oh Dionysus, you crazy god. You’ve freed the coldest of men at last, the one barbarian who couldn’t be dissuaded from his duty. 

You saw many peculiar things at the feast. The dances were different from what you were used to, and the plays were even more debouched. The road from your home had been long, and wherever you were, there was no longer any overlap for the princess and the girl. Even Ghost, the one link to your previous life, was no longer a guard, an impersonal male figure that worked for your father: he was a man under your will.

When it was time to leave the party, you did so broken-hearted. The warmth of the people had been a balm to your still hurt heart. And this new side of an intoxicated Ghost intrigued you.

“Oh my,” you said, seeing the inn room had only one, big bed. The headboard was an intricate wickerwork, far more beautiful that a bed from a village inn could hope to be. 

You’d never slept with a man in your bed.

You sent a nervous look to Ghost, who was busy rattling around in his bag. Always bustling, this man.

You could ask him to sleep on the ground, but as you’d been sleeping on grass and rocks for two weeks now, it would be a profoundly impolite gesture.  

You quickly removed your outside layer of clothing, and remained in your small clothes. You approached the bed and slid on it, turning on your elbows. As you settled, you saw Ghost looking up and sending brief glances your way, like he was respectfully gauging the situation.

“Ghost, come sleep next to me.” You felt yourself say. It was very much an alien part of you saying it. Maybe the innermost one.

He swallowed as he stood in front of the bed. Now in the closed, and warm thanks to the fireplace, he removed his mask.

You found yourself looking at his full face for the first time. He did not look like most men did back home, but you perceived his appearance as pleasing nevertheless. His hair was light, spun of gold. What happened next shocked you more, as he began removing the pieces that composed his armor. Ironically, had he been wearing a more simple garb, you would not have had time to elaborate, and you would have panicked. But the necessary time for him to undress allowed to study the man that was about to sleep next to you.

His height often intimidated most: he did not even need to glower at them. Despite his size, you found out he could remove his armor quickly and efficiently, and he did not stumble about even after drinking wine. Of course, you had seen many men in different states of underdressing, as that was the condition in which sports and competitions were taken on. His body was different from the ones of most athletes, but you recognised the build of a hero in it either way. For one, he was covered in hair– fair hair, matching the ones on his head, but so different from the hairless bodies of the oiled runners.This was a body meant to fight and protect, and not to be shown at the circus. Only his jaw was shaved: in a way, he was the complete opposite of the rest of the men of your city.

You smiled at him as he remained in his loincloth, and he sat down at the very opposite edge of the bed.

You had slept by his side many times now. What embarrassed him?

“You can lay down more comfortably.”

“This is improper.”

“Does it matter?” You replied, a bit miffed. “This last month of my life has been improper. You might as well get a good night’s rest.” He turned to glare at you, and that was the first time you locked eyes with him when he was unmasked. Whatever he saw in your expression must have been convincing enough, because he laid down next to you.  

“I so missed a real bed. Haven’t you?” You said to make conversation.

“I lied to you,” he replied. Anxiety rose in you.

“What?”

“There was no employer,” he said, almost hiccupping, hand on his face, “nobody told me to take you away.”

The revelation hit your heart strong, and you turned away from him. 

“Why did you do it, then?” You hummed and he sat up on the bed.

“I couldn’t bear to see you die,” he whispered, now looking at you while you kept your gaze away. “I am no citizen. I live off employment from lords and merchants. I was hired by your father, and I was bound by contract to protect his family.”

“When he died and the Shepherd rose, I could and should have changed city. There was no reason for me to stay there when chaos would rule. But I wanted to keep an eye on you, because you are reckless and too determined.” You spluttered, offended. “Don’t lie, you know it to be true. And I did well, otherwise you would have killed yourself. And what a waste that would have been.” You turned to face him.

“Ghost…”

“There is no grand plan. I wanted to take you to a house I know to be empty, for I killed the owner in the past. And we would live there, and you would be safe.”

“Why “would”? I am coming with you,” you said, very simply. “What else am I supposed to do? Take back my place at the palace? There is nothing dear for me there, besides one or two maids, that I hope are well.” You tentatively got close and raised your arm to brush his cheek, this time. You felt his stubble sting at your fingers. 

“Ghost, from when you took me away, you’ve become my whole family. You are my dead father and mother, my dear brother, and even my future husband. No one else will take me in, orphan and poor as I am. Would you leave me now?”

“No, never,” he hurried to say, and you smiled again. For whatever reason, your loyalty to your family had been rewarded with a loyal stranger.

“Then there is no problem. Would you… would you be my husband then?” He sighed then, long suffering, and he turned to hover over you as his hands came to hold your hips. You yelped, surprised by his speed.

“What are you even saying?”

“You… you said I was your wife to the innkeeper.”

“That was a lie,” he said, pressing an index to your nose, making you laugh, “so that we would be taken in. Should I have said “this is the runaway princess of an important town, and I’m escorting her away from her death”? Hmm? Should I have? You insufferable girl,” he held you close as you laughed and your legs squirmed under him.

“I told you I’m not a princess anymore!”

He scoffed then, but kept you close still even as you wiggled. “What else could you be? Delicate and opinionated as you are. Only a princess with her burly jailer,” he remarked. 

“Jailer? I’ve been freer with you these days than the rest of my life.” You whispered in his ear as you embraced him in your arms. With less commodities, for certain, but free in nature, in the landscapes you observed, in the food you ate and in the company you kept. No man’s law that differed from the gods’ existed here. To think you would have never spoken to Ghost if those great tragedies hadn’t befallen on you.

Because Ghost would never make a move to really connect the two like you ought to be, you decided to take a stand, and brought your lips to his cheek, leaving a chaste kiss there. Spurred by his involuntary purr, you kept kissing him, making your way to his mouth. There, you left a longer kiss, one that confirmed that his lips were, indeed, soft. When you looked at his eyes, you found out they were glazed over, lands away. But you couldn’t be jealous of his memories, because he then started to kiss you in return. At first, with his mouth closed, much like yours: but then his lips started to part, and he began kissing you with his tongue. Taken by surprise, you timidly tried to mimic what he was doing, although this one act was lost in the records chambermaids giggled about. Before long, you kept feeling that weird sensation in your lower body, at the juncture of your legs, the one joked about in the comedies, and you held one shy hand against Ghost’s chest. He immediately withdrew from you, as if burned by your touch.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

“No… No at all. I feel weird,” you said, and immediately regretted it. Could you be any more fumbling. Ghost breathed hard, his chest grazing yours, and then moved so he would not lay on you anymore.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked you, and you shook your head, your hair brushing against his face. He laughed, softly, and you again felt a sense of pride in making him do so. He began kissing you again, and what joy that was.

The sensation in the middle of your legs was answered when you felt Ghost’s hand slipping under your clothes. Even without seeing, he knew what to do to you: he began tracing your sex, concentrating on the upper side of it, which made you gasp in pleasure. His index then entered you, and you felt your mouth falling open as he muttered encouragement in your temple. Good girl, good girl, he just said, and then he picked up speed and the slick sound of his fingers entering and leaving you made you hide your face in your neck. He kept cooing at you, and everything felt so real, too real, as you felt a burst of energy released inside you, a sensation unlike any other. You panted into his shoulder, shocked. Was this what being married entailed? Suddenly, you were very glad to have asked Ghost to be your husband.

Speaking of which, he moved from your side, and you cried at the loss of warmth and him. He shifted to be on top of you again, and you looked him in the eye from under. He looked very vivid, like the most alive thing you had ever seen in your life. The shadows of the crackling fire played on his hair, and you made yourself even smaller.

“Was it true? What you said.” He asked you. You didn’t even know what he meant in particular, but you had never lied to him, past that one night he encountered you as you fled the scene. You said yes.

“There will be no walking back from this. We will be as good as a real husband and wife after this, do you understand? I won’t let you go–” he choked out the last part, reining in his desperation. You shook your head again.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.” He made another frustrated sound then, and you saw, in the muted light of the room, his hand holding his cock, the sword man penetrates woman with. Now you know your duty begins: the pain and the blood accompanying. But weirdly, unexpectedly, as he entered you you felt only a slight burn, a stretching sensation, but not the horrible pain of hushed stories. And then he started moving, and it was a pleasant feeling, a rocking motion in the arms of the man that had saved you from death. He kept kissing you, and saying the sweetest things– who could have imagined such a brutal warrior, turned into the gentlest, Eros-touched lover? 

His movements never rushed, or hurried to the point where it would hurt, but you could tell he was getting desperate. Just when you thought he would release in you, he moved away, leaving you gaping and cold. He took himself in hand then, and moaned softly as the white seed touched his hand.

“Why didn’t you…” You blushed again, not finishing your phrase. It felt wrong to you that he did not come inside you, but you didn’t quite have the courage to tell him so.

Ghost simply panted and looked at you, at you raising chest, and at your core. He then closed his eyes and released a decisive, deep breath. He fixed himself and held you again in his arms, moving you around as if you were a doll.

“I will do it when we get home.”

The remaining days on the road were a haze of happy memories. You remembered Ghost’s lingering touches, and the warmth of the sun in the middle of the day, happy villages and herds grazing the green grass. Ghost hissing at anyone who asked too many questions, Ghost hunting the hares, Ghost taking you on the woods’ ground, from behind and against the trees, free to mate as much as you wanted, always ready for you. And when you finally reached his home, that grey, desolate thing, the first thing he did was take you in the bed.

“This ought to be repaired,” you told him as you moved around the house and discovered yet another broken tool, or part, and he sighed, long suffering. But then the next day he would get to work, and fix the table, the window, and he bought you a dress that resembled the one you wore on the day of your betrothal, and it was even more special because it came from him.

“Listen here,” he told you one day as he returned from his work, and after you had hugged him to your heart’s content. His tone was guarded and serious as ever.

“I have news. From the city, I mean,” he said, and you nodded at his words. You felt a detachment towards what concerned your old life, besides the memories of your loved ones, but you were still curious.

“The Shepherd is dead.”

“Praise the gods!” You exclaimed. He nodded.

“The council killed him, they say. And the new king is a young hero who fought off invaders from the south. He is missing a wife. You see where I’m going with this?” He asks, tone even but tinged with that insecurity, that slightest fear... You did see it and hate it fiercely. You told him as much.

“I made a promise to you that night. Do you think me that fickle, that I would return to a city that wanted me dead so I could bear legitimate children to a new tyrant?”

He sighed again, lovesick, like he was the maiden taken away and not you. He kissed you and ran his hands into your hair, now long and free. You laid your head on his chest. How could he think you would leave him still? He was the only owner of your heart, your god-sent protector.

You didn’t know what your family would think about you running away with a man who, in the city, would never have had the chance to speak to you first, much less to marry you. But you knew that in your soul, you were living a life true to yourself and the gods. And that much would suffice for the rest of your days.

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (ace x reader) [pt1]

a/n: here it is,, on 1st Jan 2025,,, the first part of my childhood friend!reader x ace series! :D i honestly have no concrete plan going forward but i’m rly excited to work on this so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as well <3

contents: fem!reader, descriptions of drowning, very pining!Ace, lowkey jealous!Ace, some angst, protective dad!Whitebeard

wc. 3k

wanna be on my taglist?

i. 

the salty ocean water was frigid, nearly sending your flailing body into shock purely from the sudden cold. as you struggled to keep your head above water, the waves crashed mercilessly against each other, leaving you as merely collateral damage.

you could faintly hear the cries of the boy you left home with. 

he screamed your name, his panicked voice intermingling with the sound of thunder and pouring rain. every now and then you could feel his calloused yet slippery hand brush against yours in a futile attempt to pull you aboard the tiny fishing boat you’d set sail on weeks ago.

you wake up with a start, body jolting upward as your foggy mind takes its time separating the dream of your past from your present. you feel the faint bobbing of the Moby Dick and realise your crew must’ve docked while you were still asleep. 

rubbing your sleepy eyes, you struggle to remember what Marco had told you last night–something about a rookie pirate crew causing trouble for Jinbei. however, before you can recall all the details, you hear a knock on your door.

“come in,” you groan as you crawl out of bed whilst your visitor swings open the door. speak of the devil, you think to yourself as the Phoenix himself greets you a good morning.

his was the first face you saw when you came to. the unfamiliar man was gentle and patient even when you tried your hardest to punch him in the face out of panic. you were in a room–an infirmary?–that you’d never seen before in your life with wires and tubes of all kinds attached to your body.

a simple glance down at your clothes made your face heat up when you realised someone must’ve changed them for you while you were unconscious. the shame of the revelation was short-lived, however, when the only door in the room swung open to reveal someone you never thought you’d meet in your whole life.

“there’s someone you might want to see,” your closest crewmate announces without any further elaboration. “i’ll wait for you in the infirmary.” Marco shoots you a smile before heading off, not bothering to wait for a response.

curiosity getting the better of you, you quickly wash up and change your clothes before exiting your room. your crewmates greet you good morning as you speed past them, your legs moving on autopilot towards the place you spend the most time in–second only to your own personal quarters. just a few steps away from the infirmary door, you hear muffled yelling followed by the deep toned voice you’d come to love and cherish.

before you stood Whitebeard himself, the strongest man alive. just his mere presence was enough to both render you speechless and freeze you in place as you stared unblinkingly up at the man who was so tall his head nearly brushed the ceiling. the first man you saw, meanwhile, simply stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, an oddly relaxed smile on his face.

“you’re lucky to be alive, little one,” Whitebeard said, his voice so deep you swore the entire room trembled. “we aren’t holding you captive so stop making a fuss. you may leave whenever you wish.”

“i have nowhere else to go.” you couldn’t help the tears as they welled up in your eyes, the shock of your near-death experience hitting you suddenly all at once. digging your fingers into your scalp, you hung your head and cried. “all i remember was falling out of the boat my friend and i were on during a storm. i don’t even know if he’s alive anymore. i don’t know what to do!”

the two men watched in silence as you sobbed but even then you could tell there was no judgement on their end. you felt no shame or embarrassment as you cried in their presence, only an odd sense of comfort.

“then be my daughter,” Whitebeard said simply, “and live your life as you wish.”

before you can even reach out your hand to grab the door knob, the entire door flies off its hinges. it shoots past your face, barely grazing your nose, and hits the deck railing before falling overboard entirely, hitting the sea below with a splash… and a sizzle?

your initial shock morphs into annoyance and anger, your heart clearly not pleased to be tested in such a way so soon after waking. you turn to face the infirmary doorway–now missing the whole door–and mentally prepare yourself to use your Devil Fruit ability in the case of an intruder.

a tall silhouette emerges from the smoke flooding the room but before you can see their face, you spot a ball of fire appearing where their hand should be. then, the person runs straight towards you.

“(Y/N)!” you hear some of your crewmates cry out in surprise as the intruder bodyslams you into the railing. the both of you still engulfed by the smoke exiting the infirmary, you’re unable to make out the stranger’s face as they reach out to grab your neck with their other hand reeled back, flames still dancing on their fingertips. gripping the hand that continues to grasp your throat, you struggle to pry yourself free.

“st–” you feel the familiar numbing sensation spread across your throat and tongue as you activate your Devil Fruit ability. however, before you can complete the command, the remaining smoke clears to reveal the face of your assailant and your eyes widen in recognition.

“Ace?” you gasp, your heart, already beating rapidly from the shock of the attack, races even faster. it pounds fiercely within the confines of your ribcage, almost threatening to burst free from your body entirely as you stare up at the boy you never thought you’d see again.

“you’re alive?” Ace murmurs, the flames wrapped around his curled fist dissipating into nothingness as he lets go of your throat quickly–as though you were the one set ablaze and he’d been burnt. “you’re alive!” he repeats breathlessly before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the crook of your neck.

you feel a wetness on your skin as the boy begins to tremble, hands gripping onto your clothes for dear life whilst he slowly sinks to his knees, pulling you down with him. you’re quick to return the hug, your teary eyes fluttering shut as you bask in the long-forgotten feeling of being hugged by Portgas D. Ace.

ii. 

you’re so pretty.

sitting cross-legged on your bed, Ace watches you silently as you move about your room, tidying up loose clothes and random belongings scattered about. seemingly too focused on cleaning up, you fail to realise how intently he stares. his eyes stay pinned to your face, occasionally trailing down to the rest of you but always going back to your face–the face he’d spent countless sleepless nights trying his hardest to never forget; the face that haunted him in his dreams.

he wanted badly to tell you how he felt. although, he considered himself lucky enough you hadn’t caught on yet yourself, considering how red his face must’ve looked–especially right now as he watched Luffy swing amongst the trees with you clinging onto his back.

his younger brother laughed with little restraint while you screamed, almost on the verge of tears; and yet you never asked to be put back down on the ground. all three of you knew how much you loved adrenaline rushes.

Ace simply watched as he laid on the grass, the upper half of his body propped up by his arms. it was a hot day on Dawn Island but he was mostly protected from the sun’s rays by the shade provided by the same trees his brother and you played on.

just then you’d let out yet another yelp of surprise–the result of a particularly sharp drop, courtesy of Luffy–and Ace swore his heart stopped for just a second. he’d felt his arms and legs twitch on their own accord, as though instinctively prepared to catch you if you fell.

“Ace?” your voice snaps him out of his reverie. it’s older now, just a bit more mature than how he’d remembered it. you look older, as well, though you hadn’t grown any much taller. he recalls how for the first few years of your friendship, you loved reminding him how much taller you were–only to watch helplessly as he easily outgrew you in your mid-teens. “Ace?” you call his name again, this time waving your hand in front of his face.

“yeah?” he blinks a couple of times as though grounding himself back to reality. you’re leaning over slightly now, face hovering close enough to his own that he can feel the faint wisps of your breath. Ace feels his own face grow warm and hopes you don’t think too much of it. 

“Pops said you can stay in my room so i asked Marco to lend me some of his old clothes in case you want to change into something else.”

“who says i’m staying?” the words slip out before Ace can even process their meaning. in all honesty, he wants nothing more than to be by your side again but the thought of pledging any kind of allegiance to Whitebeard makes his blood run hot.

“oh.” you don’t try very hard to hide the disappointment on your face and almost immediately Ace wishes he can take it all back. “sorry, i guess i just assumed you were going to join us.” you shoot him a halfhearted smile before turning to walk away to pick up some books you’d left scattered on the floor nearby.

us? when was the last time you and i were separate ‘us’s?

“(Y/N), i–” he tries to speak without thinking about what he wants to say, hoping only to somehow salvage the conversation.

“no, it’s fine.” you cut him off and Ace can tell from the tone of your voice that you mean what you’re about to say with full sincerity. “you have your own crew now, right? the Spade Pirates? i like that name.” you turn to look at him again, this time with a much less forced smile. “both you and Luffy always wanted to be captains so i understand.”

you can come with me.

“i’m here to kill Whitebeard.” 

“i know.”

“you’re not gonna try to stop me?”

“she doesn’t have to,” a third voice intervenes from the open door of your quarters. Ace’s head snaps sharply in the direction of the intruder, sparks already flying from his fingertips as he glares at who he recognises as the man who had apparently nursed him back to health.

Marco merely smiles at Ace before entering your room fully with an arm full of clothes. Ace watches as the older man stands close to you, even ducking his head slightly to say something just out of earshot. you reply with your own whispered murmurs, clearly not wanting Ace to listen in on any part of the conversation.

the thought alone makes his heart sink. he can’t remember the last time you’d left him out on something.

iii.

although he’s curious, Ace doesn’t bother asking Marco what he’d meant when he said you “didn’t have to” stop him. simply chalking it up to some vague attempt at subtly reminding him of the Whitebeard crew’s overwhelming manpower. much to his chagrin, though, he finds himself constantly presented with the opportunity to clarify his doubts with the crew’s doctor since it seems like you work closely with him.

“he’s following you around like a puppy,” Marco comments as the two of you make your way to the dining room with Ace trailing closely behind, his hand holding loosely onto the free-hanging excess of your belt. you simply laugh in response, shooting a quick glance at him before returning your attention to your crewmate. as much as he’s tempted to throw a punch at the older man for the perceived slight, he holds himself back for your sake.

“join me tomorrow. let’s set sail together.” his eyes shone brightly even under the cover of night. Ace grabbed your hands, engulfing them in his own larger ones as he pulled you closer. “we can start our own crew and you’ll be my first mate.”

your lack of response lasted for a minute that felt far too uncomfortable, so much so that he’d almost started second-guessing himself. maybe he’d assumed too much thinking you’d want to follow someone like him.

“what makes you think you won’t be my first mate?” you laughed, unaware of how with just a few words you’d lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. “what if i wanna be captain? will you take back your offer?”

“i might consider it.”

“consider uninviting me?” you gasped in an exaggerated manner.

“nope. i might consider letting you be captain. no guarantees, though.” you knew he’d said it as a joke–which it was–but a small part of Ace knew, if it really came down to it, he wouldn’t mind being your first mate.

dinner is incredibly uncomfortable–for Ace, at least. for some reason you’d chosen to sit right across from Whitebeard himself while Marco opted to sit beside his captain and, thusly, directly across from Ace.

the first few minutes of eating go without any conversation with your table being the only one that remains completely silent. meanwhile, the rest of the crew that had chosen to also eat in the room instead of out on the deck go about chatting animatedly–at the very least, the endless noise makes for a good distraction from the fact that the man Ace so desperately wants to kill is sitting right in front of him.

“i hear you refuse to join my crew,” Whitebeard finally says, looking directly into Ace’s eyes with the calmness one would not find in a man speaking to his wannabe-assassin.

“i won’t need to join you once i kill you.” out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shooting him a look but he’s far too busy gritting his teeth and keeping it together to break eye contact. 

“very well,” Whitebeard chuckles heartily, “feel free to keep trying.” Marco smirks at his captain’s response and it takes all of Ace’s willpower not to start a fight right then and there. “in that case, though, i won’t let you share (Y/N)’s room.”

“Pops!” you whined in protest. “it’s fine, i trust Ace. he can stay with me.”

“there’s no way i’m risking my beloved daughter’s life. you may trust him but i don’t. not yet, at least.”

without considering that his actions might just prove Whitebeard right, Ace swings his fist at the older man as he lunges across the table. all he can see in that moment is red, his heart pounding his burning blood through the veins in his body.

“don’t tell (Y/N) what she can or can’t do,” Ace barks, “she was my friend before she became your daughter!” as his fiery fist nears Whitebeard’s face, the younger man takes a split second to realise no one’s reacting, not even the target himself.

“stop!” your voice rings out throughout the room but it sounds different somehow. though you said but a single word, Ace feels it linger in the air far longer than any noise should, the sound itself almost feeling as though it’s piercing his brain through his ears. the onlookers all wince in response but none of them look nearly as affected as he does.

it’s right then he realises: he can’t move. 

his now-extinguished fist remains midair, his knuckles just a few centimetres from Whitebeard’s nose, as his body stays frozen and lunged across the table. his mind is still clearly in his control, Ace can tell at the very least, but he’s physically unable to move at all. he screams at himself internally to do something, anything, to break free but it’s as though something somewhere deep in his subconscious is stopping him from doing what he wants. 

“release.” you command before Ace’s body slumps like a ragdoll onto the dining table, his face slamming directly into the aged wood. he hears the sound of ceramic and metal hitting the ground as he groans, suddenly feeling an overwhelming wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“i’m so sorry,” you say frantically as he feels your warm hands pull him off the table and back into a sitting position beside you. “you left me no choice, Ace.” with one hand cupping his face, turning his head to look at you, the other combs through his wavy hair and he nearly shudders from the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp.

as you continue to fuss over him, even going so far as to grab a few napkins to clean up his face and clothes, Ace remains in a daze. he can hear Whitebeard and Marco conversing from across the table but their words fly over his head as he keeps his eyes pinned on you. he still feels a tad breathless, though now he’s unsure if it’s because of what you’d done to him just a moment ago, or rather because you’re taking care of him.

Ace grabs the hand you have cupping his face and holds it there, basking in its warmth which used to be familiar. allowing his eyes to flutter closed, he nuzzles his face into your palm, uncaring of the stares undoubtedly being pointed his way. 

he realises, slowly, how much you’ve grown and changed. how different you are from the girl he grew up with; and yet everything about you still feels the same. the warmth of your hand, the way you smell, the inflections in your voice. feeling a pang in his chest, it dawns on Ace that, at some point, he’ll have to choose between his goal of killing Whitebeard and being with you. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[pupkashi]

a/n: kakashi word vomit i wanna make out w him

masterlist

kakashi is so attractive & he never believes it until you show him how much you’re attracted to him. when you first see him you’re doing a double take bc no one said the famous copy ninja was such a stunner ???

it takes a lot of courage and teasing from asuma and kurenai before you even think about talking to the silver haired shinobi. at first kakashi thinks you’re nervous because you’re scared of him, so he assures you he wouldn’t hurt you.

“you don’t have to be so nervous y’know, i don’t bite” he smiles, eye crinkling and it makes you flush.

“I’ve just never tried flirting with someone as attractive as you” you blurt out, cursing kurenai for encouraging the three shots you took before walking over to kakashi.

kakashi is shocked, his only visible eye now wide and mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ (even if you can’t see it). he doesn’t say anything, wondering how you could find someone as average as him attractive.

nevertheless kakashi doesn’t make you feel awkward, continuing the conversation. the two of you click perfectly, laughing softly and getting to know each other. kakashi is quick to ask you when he’d see you again, thankful his mask is hiding his profuse blushing.

four months later the two of you as sitting on his couch, the movie was mere background noise as you looked at your boyfriend, something akin to a magnetic force pulling your lips towards his exposed neck. you press feathery kisses all over it, kakashi sighs softly.

“thought you wanted to watch this movie?” he chuckles, moving his neck so you can kiss him with more ease. his words are airy, and you know he’s not complaining nor does he want you to stop.

“you’re too hot to not make out with” you breathe out between kisses, planting some along his jawline before finally landing on his lips.

kakashi is quick to move you, grabbing you by the hips and placing you on his lap. he’s never been one to deny your affection, and he wasn’t gonna start today.

he thinks maybe you’re just feeling clingy today, he’s been gone on a mission for a week or so anyway. that must be all it is. kakashi chalks it up to you missing him after missions for months, no matter how many times you tell him you just think he’s so fucking hot.

it’s not until a little over a two years into your relationship that kakashi lies awake in bed, realizing you’d never once stopped showering him with your affection and compliments. he’d figured once the honeymoon phase was over the rose tinted glasses you had on must’ve come off, but it seemed like they never did.

every day you still greeted him with a sweet smile and a flurry of kisses, “how was your day handsome?” or “hi pretty boy, how’d it go?” or any variation which included complimenting him.

kakashi lets his mind wander, grateful that you were as in love with him as he was you. you stirred in your sleep, flipping and curling into your lovers side unconsciously. it made his heart stutter as he closed his eyes, letting your warmth and steady breathing lull him to sleep.

kakashi comes home the next day with his vest already off, navy undershirt untucked and hair flopping naturally over his forehead.

“how was work toda-” you feel the words stuck in your throat as you drink in the look of your boyfriend. he usually gets home in uniform and immediately goes to the shower and you see him freshened up and changed. it’s a rare, breathtaking sight to see him as disheveled as he in right now.

“what? do i still have blood on my face?” he haphazardly wipes at his face with the back of his hand. you shake your head at him, not trusting your voice as you clear your throat and lean in to kiss his cheek. “what’s got you so flustered, pretty?” his deep honey voice has your cheeks burning as you stare at him.

“you look good” you admit, a small smile on your lips, not trying to hide how badly you wanted to jump his bones in that moment.

“hmm, do i? ‘m all sweaty” kakashi mumbles, letting a cocky grin play on his lips as he bends over slightly to allow his lips to hover over yours, “missed me that much baby? you made me late this morning” he smiles as your crash your lips into his, not able to hold yourself back when he was only mere inches away from you.

“not my fault you’re so fucking attractive” you say between kissing him, squealing softly when kakashi pulls you into him by your waist.

it’s in every kiss your place to his skin, ever gentle and needy touch, breathing your love into him as you hold him impossibly close. every action and gesture of yours is enough to reassure him as you shoo him off to shower while you finish dinner. kakashi lets the hot water hit his flushed skin with a happy sigh, forever grateful he paid for asuma’s lunch for a month in exchange for him to play cupid.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Four -> Next Chapter

You woke up with a groan, your chest feeling so much heavier than before, your head felt as if you had just slammed it against a brick wall. It felt hard to breathe and your right arm and leg felt numb. You shifted on the bed you laid on, opening your eyes and you were blinded by the light above you which drew another grown from you.

“No, no, no, don’t move.” You heard a voice that you could not fully process as a hand came onto your upper chest, pushing you back onto your back, it was probably Dick’s voice you think, or maybe it was Tim. “You’re pretty badly injured from the crash, the old man is pretty upset right now, probably best to not to push anymore buttons tonight.”

You slowly came to, your vision clearing up and you would have felt sick if you did not feel terrible already. You laid on a very comfortable bed, your old bed, your current bed was rough, something you could just barely afford after saving expenses for other things. There was an IV in your left arm and bandages on your right arm, leg as well if you had to guess but your lower body was covered with a blanket. Your clothes had been changed, a pair of pajamas you remember having just got a day before you left. You turned your head to see Dick sitting there, a chair pulled up to your bedside, he had changed his clothing, black sweatpants and a dark blue shirt.

“What happened-“

“You skinned the right side of your body on one of the bridge wires, tore right through your suit, along with a bruised lung.” Another voice added on, Tim Drake, he was sitting on the other side of your bed, opposite side of Dick. “You could have died if it wasn’t for Dick.”

“At least I wouldn’t be here.”

“Someone tried to kill you and that’s what you have to say? God…” You heard Tim sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t even be grateful for having your life saved.”

“They weren’t trying to kill her, someone who was trying to kill her like that would have just tried to take a shot at her.” Dick spoke to Tim, speaking as if you were not even lying between them. “They wanted her alive, but they failed their mission cause she went flying off the bridge and would have died.”

“Can you two just shut the hell up, I already have a headache.” You threw your head back on your pillow, closing your eyes, but you were certainly aware enough to grab Tim by the wrist when he tried to brush the hair out of your face. “Don’t talk to me… just get out.”

“Nah, Bruce said not to leave you alone.” Dick responded, his fingers prying yours off of Tim’s wrist. You groaned at hearing his words, keeping your eyes screwed shut while trying to drown out the throbbing pain in your limbs. “You should try to eat or drink something, I think Alfred made you something in-“

“I’m not hungry, pass.” You felt a creak in your bones as you turned your body around onto your non injured side. The moment the side of your body shifted onto the bed you felt Tim’s hands on your skin, shifting your body and his body to bring your head to rest on his lap as if you were some small kitten who needed to be held. “Where are my things?”

“Why do you need them?” You heard Tim ask from above you, his fingers coming to run through your hair, scratching at your scalp. “You’re not going back out there like this.”

“My friends… they could be in danger-“

“They don’t matter right now-“

“They matter to me, Dick!” You cut your oldest brother off when he cut off your answer to Tim’s question. “If anything happened to them I would never be able to forgive myself.”

There was a thick silence in the room after your words, you heard the chair Dick sat in shift against the wooden floor of your room as he stood up.

“Bruce has your gear right now, he’s reviewing the footage from it to see who did this to you. I’ll see if he’ll let you use it.” You heard the door to your bedroom open and close after Dick’s words in response to your shout.

“…What happened to you?” You heard Tim ask, his fingers pausing in your hair. “You used to be so sweet.”

“I was only like that because if I acted up I would be punished.” You sat up, pushing his hands off of you and your right hand pulled out the IV out of your left arm, and you could hear the sharp intake of breath from Tim beside you. “Don’t think I never knew you put cameras in this room or that I never realized that when I misbehaved at all or pushed any of you away that you would spike my meals with a sedative and call my teachers at school and just tell them I was sick.”

“You never listened to us!”

“I shouldn’t have to! I should have grown up with just my mom because that is what she wanted to do!” You stood up, slipping out from the bed, you glanced at Tim and he had shifted as if to catch you as if you were going to fall. You were in slight discomfort but you had built an extremely good pain tolerance over the years so you were fine, but clearly they would never recognize your current strength. You scoffed at Tim’s worried reaction to you standing up on your own, shaking your head. “You still think I am weak… oh my god fuck you.”

“You know you’re not supposed to say things like that.” Tim scolded you at your usage of foul language. He stood up from your bed, reaching out for you, his hands coming to grip both of your shoulders. “Just stop-“

You leaned back, shifting your weight so you fell back, dragging Tim back with you. You extended your left leg up so it kicked him right in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him flying and crashing into your bedroom mirror, shattering it and digging into his skin.

“I will say the good thing about being seen as weak by you all is that I am always able to take you all by surprise, especially now, like I said that to Dick to get him out of the room.” You spoke simply before grabbing the chair Dick was sitting in just moments ago and hurling it at your bedroom window, breaking it with an extremely loud shattering sound that echoed through the room, probably the manor. You saw out of the corner of your eye, Tim slowly getting up so you did not waste a second, you went running to the window, jumping out.

You heard Tim shout your name, your birth name as you landed on the ground, but you did not stop running. You ran straight to the back of the garden, you knew that behind a bush, against the tall iron fence that surrounded the manor, there was a divot under the fence that you dug when you were bored as a child. It was perfectly hidden from view so that no one else could see it or find it, even now it was still there, water and rainfall over the years only making it deeper so you could crawl out of it still.

By the time you were on the other side of the fender you could hear shouting from back at the manor, at least Tim told Dick by now if not the whole house if they did not hear the shattering of the mirror and window. You did not look back, just kept running and running…

_______________________

“Hey, stop squirming so much!” Nettle scolded you as he pressed a disinfectant covered cloth against one of your broken window induced wounds on your arm. You had made it back to the warehouse in one piece due to running into Clove by chance when she was looking for you as her civilian self. “I’m almost done, ‘kay?”

“…fine…”

You sat on the dining room table while Nettle cleaned your wounds from the jump from the window, the others were all near, Foxglove digging into a pear for her breakfast as she leaned against the kitchen counter, Clove laying across one of the couches and Henbane’s lap as the two of the scrolled on their phones. Nettle snipped off a bit of bandage after he wrapped it over your wound on your arm before setting the roll of bandages and scissors down in the medical kit.

“There, all done, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Nettle asked you as he held his hand out to you to help you down from the table, you just mumbled out a response in thanks, far too tired to form actual words. “Let’s get you to bed-“

“My room is too far.” You whined, glancing up at the metal staircase on the back wall that led to the rooms which were old storage rooms that you renovated into your bedrooms. You let Nettle lead you to one of the couches instead, helping you lay down on it and pulling a thick weighted blanket over your shivering body. Your whole body was in pain now, you were barefoot when you slipped away from Wayne Manor which resulted in your feet ending up being fifty shades of messed up, bruised and bloodied. “Thanks, Nettle.”

“Anytime.” Nettle sat down on the ground next to your couch. He glanced up at you with a smile. “You’re off patrol for the next week.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” You groaned, throwing your head back which drew laughs from Clove and Henbane on the opposite couch.

“Look Mr. Austen needs to make a new suit for you and the tech is custom made because your old one is back… ya you get my point.” Foxglove chimed in, her voice trailing off. “But hey, you could take some time off for yourself, go get drinks, maybe have that boyfriend of yours over that you visited the other night.”

“H-how… how do you know about that?” You shot up, groaning in slight pain as you moved too quickly and your response drew laughter from everyone. “H-how- I turned off my comm line…”

“No you didn’t.” Foxglove spoke, her voice full of laughter. “No, you see you turned your camera in your mask on, looks like the rush of the moment got to you both.”

“…you… you all heard us have sex…” You lay there on the couch, wide eyed in the realization.

“Heard it… and saw some of it.” Clove answered and your face turned the brightest shade of red. “But hey he is really cute, definitely a keeper.”

“…my best friends saw me have sex with my boyfriend I haven't seen in four years.” You stared up at the ceiling and buried your face in your hands. “I wish I fell off that bridge.”

“Hmm well if you want you can have him over tonight, show him around while everyone else is on patrol and Foxglove is working the comm lines, have a nice stay at home date.” Clove suggested as she sat up from Henbane’s lap. “I think I picked up a really good red wine if you two want to split that.”

“Clove, thank you for your idea, but his idea of a stay at home date is getting food from a five star restaurant and watching a movie in his home theater. Or sometimes he’d order chocolate covered strawberries and we would hide in his mother’s office when one of my siblings, normally Tim, came looking for me.” You explained and there was a long silence from your friends as the reality of your old life set in. “And that red wine you bought cost fifteen dollars, the stuff his family bought cost five hundred dollars at the very least. I just- look I don’t know about him coming here, I mean we live in a warehouse, a nice warehouse but still, he is rich, like one of the oldest families in Gotham rich.”

“Well then… I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.” Clove said in an awkward silence taking hold of the room. “I messaged him on one of his social media accounts and asked him to come over and surprise you since you are sort of stuck here… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine… he probably never saw it anyway, he’s busy-“

“Not too busy for you.” You made the mistake of looking away from Foxglove, not seeing her get up to go get the door with her crutches and letting in the guest that came knocking. You all turned your heads to see the familiar blond boy you spent that night with just the other day. Gabriel was let in through the back door, carrying something that you assumed to be a gift basket, all dressed up in his thick wool coat and scarf along with those Italian leather gloves he always wore. He smiled at the sight of you laying down on the couch, he set the gift basket down beside the couch and bent down to press a kiss to your lips as you opened your arms to him in your tired state. “Hi angel.”

“Hi love.” You responded, before gesturing to Gabriel and looking at all of your friends. “His is my boyfriend, Gabriel Christel. We met back in middle school when I first moved to Gotham after my mom married my father and then we started dating in high school and well you all know the rest.”

“It’s lovely to meet you all, thank you for looking after her.” He looked around at all of them before his eyes fell over to Clove and a look of recognition came across her face at the sight of her. “You’re Clove, right? Thank you for reaching out to me, I think we are going to be very good friends.”

“I hope so.” Clove smiled as she stood up from the couch, glancing around at everyone else in the room. “We… we should go, we got patrol and… ya… you two have fun.”

“We will.” You replied to Clove as she pulled Henbane up from the couch and Nettle quickly followed behind her as well, going to get changed and prepared before patrol. You looked back up to Gabriel who was standing over you and as soon as he saw your eyes were on him, he kneeled down onto the carpet, on eye level with you so you could press a kiss to his cheek, just under his eye. “Hello handsome.”

“Hello beautiful-“

Gabriel was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat and you both turned your heads to look at Foxglove standing just a few feet away with her crutches due to her injury on her foot that she was recovering from. She smiles at Gabriel, looking him dead in the eye.

“I like you a lot, but hurt her at all and we will destroy you.” She spoke those words with a smile, but there was a certain chill about them that would probably even make your father shudder. “Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

_______________________

“My bedroom is the last one on the left.” You spoke as your boyfriend carried you on his back, one hand reaching back and holding your thigh and the other carrying that gift basket, your arms wrapped around his neck. He pushed open the door and stopped for a moment, before walking forward and setting you down on the bed. “Thank you, lovey.”

He looked around your bedroom as he came to sit down beside you. Old floorboards creaked beneath his weight, the walls were brick with white pants covering them, slowly chipping away from the top down. The ceiling was high with all sorts of pvc pipes and air vents, the windows were tall but the glass was thin. The bed was an iron bed frame, polished and then painted over black and then the dressers and nightstand were all sorts of different pieces you found and painted over the years.

“Foxglove is downstairs on the comm lines tonight.” You said as you laid down on the right side of the bed, propping yourself to sit up against your pillows. “So it’s just me and you until patrol is over.”

“Ya… I suppose it is.” He set the basket at the foot of the bed and reached in and pulled out a bottle of red wine and a glass, you watched as he filled up the glass halfway and handed it to you. “Here you go, dove.”

“I love you.”

“Mmm, are you saying that to me or the wine?”

“Both.” Small laughs escaped from both your lips and he wrapped his arm around you as you took a sip of the red wine from the glass. You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I missed this… I missed this a lot.”

“So did I.” He replied to you, there was a palpitate pause in the air and he took a deep breath in and out. “Angel… how long are you going to be doing this?”

“Doing this?”

“Living in a warehouse, being a vigilante, hiding away from everything? I mean look at you, your body is so fucked up and I don’t even know what caused most of it.” His voice took on a heavy tone of concern which felt like a large weight on both of your shoulders. “I want to settle down and have a life with you, I don’t want to worry about where you are.”

“I… what are you saying?” The air left your lungs as you watched Gabriel stand up from the bed and walked over to your side of the bed, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling over a small navy blue velvet box and getting down on his knee.

“Marry me.” You just stared down at him and a bit of a bashful smile came across his face as a small chuckle slipped from his lips, shaking his head slightly. “It was my great grandmother’s ring and I know I couldn’t ask your mother or father for their blessing but no one hardly sees your mother anymore and your father… well he doesn’t like me and well I don’t know if they know you’re around anymore and-“

“I… I don’t know…”

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (12/18)

(A/N: Just wanted to wish you all a Happy New Year! Here's to a better year and more of this LaDS obsession! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus takes Reader out on a trip to confess something very important and ask an even more dire question

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor blood letting/mixing. Mating rituals. P in V. Cunnilingus.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (13)

Read on AO3

Sylus was concerned. Since coming back from the village you had not been the same. His usual bright and spirited little bird had grown silent. You moved about the mountain as if you were a ghost. Despair clung to you like a shroud and no matter what he said or did, you remained in your sullen state.

He did not know what to do. He knew that your relationship with your father was important and getting in that fight with him had been a terrible blow. You had gone back to the village a couple times since then to pick up some things, chat with friends, and you always stopped by to see your father. But each time nothing changed. Things were still tense and you only came back home feeling worse.

Part of Sylus wanted to confront your father and scream at him for making you miserable. It was not your fault that he was upset. If you wanted to stay with Sylus that was your own business. It should not matter to him so long as you were safe and happy.

Another day had passed and Sylus was in the kitchen area of the mountain trying his best to make tea for you. You had picked up some when you last went to the village. He rather liked it but he still didn’t understand the steeping process. But he needed to try something.

He took the mug of tea with him back to the bedroom where you were sitting, a book laid in your lap but you were not reading it. Your gaze was lost to the void as you stared at the wall.

“Ahem,” he stepped infront of you. “Care for something to drink?”

“Thank you.” you took the cup and peered inside. “Did you make tea?”

“Tried to.” Sylus shrugged. You took a tentative sip. Your face was fighting to stay neutral as you swallowed. “A little strong.”

“Apologies. Still learning.” he sat next to you. “Good book?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have yet to actually read any of it.” you closed the book and sighed. “Can’t focus on much of anything nowadays it seems.”

“Little bird,” Sylus wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you next to his side. “I know you can’t just change the way you feel but lingering over this will only hurt you more.”

“It just hurts so much.”

“I know. And I appreciate your desire to stay here but if it is only making you more miserable then you may need to return to the village.”

“What? No! I don’t want to go back to the village. I want to stay.” It was the most energy he had gotten out of you in days as you frantically said you wanted to remain on the mountain. Your eyes were pleading with him not to send you away. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here with you, Sylus.”

“Alright. It was just a suggestion.” he pulled you onto his lap. “I just hate seeing you in pain.”

You relaxed in his arms. He held you close, breathing in your familiar scent and the feel of your body against his.

With him.You wanted to stay with him. You had said the same when he gave you the option before. Back then you said it so casually, as if you were confused it was even a question whether you would want to remain with him or not. He thought that maybe your opinion would have changed considering how you had been behaving these past few days. He hated the idea of you leaving but if you were only going to be miserable with him he didn’t want to keep you from something that may make you actually happy.

But you had said you wanted to stay. You wanted to stay with him. After everything that had happened, you still chose him.

His entire life he had never been desired anywhere by anyone. Sylus belonged to neither humans or dragons. He had resorted himself to a life of solitude on this mountain until you appeared and brought so much joy into his life. He never wanted to lose you.

Perhaps…perhaps that is human love. This ache in his chest, this desire to dry your eyes and banish your heartache, this need to have you near him at all times. He could not say for sure. All he knew was that he wanted to show you just what you meant to him. But what? Would anything be appropriate while you were still so upset?

The days continued to pass and you began to perk up. You were smiling more and talking more. There were times where he came upon you and you were standing still as a statue, a thousand yard stare in the middle distance. You had also stopped going to the village as much as you had been. You admitted that most of the reason you had been stopping by as often as you were was to try and talk to your father. But if he didn’t want to talk to you then you weren’t going to hurt yourself any longer trying to reconcile with him.

Sylus had also yet to tell you how he felt. He felt it every day. He wanted to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out. Maybe if you said it first he’d be able to say them as well.

What pushed him over the edge was one evening you were laying next to him in bed, your head resting on his shoulder. Your fingers were tracing his chest and rested on the gem in the center of his torso. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what is this?”

“That is my heart, little bird.”

Your eyes went wide. “Are you being serious?”

“Very. At least, it is an opening to my heart. The fleshy organ that actually pumps my blood is underneath it. The gem is just part of the protection around it.”

“Wow…do you feel anything when I touch it?”

“Almost. It is very faint though. It’s not exactly a sensitive part of the body.”

“I see.” you placed your hand over his heart, feeling the steady thumps under your palm. You gave him a little smile before pressing a kiss to the gem and resting your head back on his chest.

Sylus took back everything he had said about not being able to feel anything when you touched it. You might as well have dug your hand in and taken it from his chest. It certainly didn’t feel like it belonged to him anymore.

So, here he was. About to do something that would either make him the happiest he could ever be or would end horribly. Hells give him strength.

He found you sitting cross legged on the dais in the hoard room. You were rearranging gems to create mosaics on the stone. You looked up when you saw him and smiled. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making designs.” You gestured to the pile of gems in front of you. “It’s the closest I can get to making stained glass designs here and I’ve found I miss the work. What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering how you would feel about going on a little flight?”

“Really? That sounds great!” you jumped up. “When are we going? Where are we going?”

“We can leave as soon as you are ready and the destination is a surprise.” he was so glad to see you acting more like your old self again. “Now go put on some shoes and something warm to wear. It’s cold out.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m going.” you scampered back off into the mountain. When you were ready Sylus picked you up and took off. You flew for a long while but you were enjoying it. Your arms were outstretched as you glided through the air, completely unafraid that Sylus may drop you. You trusted him so much.

“Look down, my little bird.” he told you as you neared your destination.

You opened your eyes and peered down. Below you was a valley full of bright red flowers that swayed in the crisp autumn breeze. Sylus touched down in the center of it and set you down. You gazed around, your eyes wide as you took in the sight. “It’s beautiful. How did you find this place?”

“Passed through it once on my travels.” he watched as you bent down and picked one of the flowers. “The blooms don’t last long so I thought you’d like to see it now before they all wither with the winter. I remembered your story about the blood moonflowers and while these are not those I thought you’d like it just the same.”

“I love it. This is amazing.” you laid back in the field of flowers. Sylus sat down next to you. Throughout the rest of the afternoon you frolicked through the flowers. You had taken many of the flowers and wove them into a wreath that you proceeded to put on his head.

“It looks good on you.” you said, adjusting it slightly.

“Glad you’re having fun.”

The sun began to set and the golden light that shone on the red flowers looked as if it sent the entire meadow ablaze. You sat their transfixed as you watched the light dance. “This is breathtaking.”

Sylus could not take his eyes off of you. The golden light silhouetted you like a halo and for the first time in his life Sylus believed the gods could be real. The hells could not make something so perfect as you. “Yes, you are.”

“Hm?” You turned your attention back to him.

Now or never. He took your hand. “I have a confession to make. I did not just bring you out here to show you this meadow. I wanted to tell you something and ask you a question.”

“If you’re going to ask me if I want to return to the village again, Sylus, I swear to the gods--”

“No. No. Quite the opposite in fact.” Hells, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

“I did not think there was anything in this life for me. Since I was a child I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Not with dragons. Not with humans. I thought I had been cursed to be alone. That was until I met you, a girl in a ridiculously expensive dress and dirty boots hiking up a mountain to meet a dragon. I did not know what to make of you back then. I thought that perhaps I could have you as a companion, someone to make my isolation a little less lonely. But you ended up being so much more.

“I adore you. I adore the way you can’t hide a single thing you feel, how you were almost never scared to bite back at me when you were mad, how brave you are, how caring, how smart and creative. You not only banished my lonely days, you filled them with unending light and renewed a hope that I do not think I’ve felt since I was a child.”

Sylus could see tears welling in your eyes. It made him smile. He knew those tears were not made out of sorrow as so many of yours had been lately.

He took your other hand. “So what I’ve wanted to say to you is that you were right. Dragons may be incapable of love, but I am not all of me a dragon. I am human too and I’ve realized it isn’t the curse I thought it was, because it let me fall in love with you.”

The tears were falling down your cheeks now. “You…you love me?” your voice was choked with emotion.

“Yes, my little bird. I do. Which leads me to my question.” he cleared his throat. “Know that if you say no it will not change my feelings for you. But I need to know if you would become my mate.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” it felt like his heart was going to burst outside of his chest. “Will you become my mate? Understanding all that it means. That we will be connected, tethered together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes. I do.” you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tight. “I love you too. I would love nothing more than to be your mate and spend the rest of my life as your other half.”

Relief flooded through him. “My better half.” he murmured.

“So um, how do we do this? You said there was a whole ritual, right?”

“Yes, which I’m realizing means you’re going to have to try and speak in Draconic.”

“Oh…is it hard?”

“Certainly isn’t easy, but we’re going to try. It also requires blood, so here.” he took your hand and pressed a claw to your palm. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

He sliced a thin line down your palm. Little drops of blood seeped from the cut. He then drew a cut across his chest and placed your bleeding palm over it. “Now, say exactly as I say.” He began speaking slowly in Draconic, making sure you could copy the words as best you could on your own tongue.

He felt it and he could tell you did too. The shiver of magic that ran through your bodies, connecting at where your blood mingled.

“Now what?” you whispered, afraid to break the silence.

“Now comes the more fun part.” he grinned, taking you and rolling you onto your back.

“We’re doing it out here?” you asked.

“Has to be done immediately. Why?”

“It is the middle of autumn. It’s cold.”

“Trust me,” Sylus edged the hem of your skirt up. “You’re not going to be cold for long.”

The layers of your clothes were peeled away until you were lying in that bed of red wildflowers naked as the day you were born. Your body trembled but he couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or nerves. You were certainly excited, he knew that much. Not even a field full of fragrant flowers could mask the sweet scent of your desire.

He wanted to savor every moment of this. He hovered over you, taking your lips in a soft and slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his chest was pressed on top of yours.

That was another thing, you never recoiled from his more dragon like appearance. The scaled armor on his arms, his chest and his legs never seemed to offput you. The only thing you ever complained of was that he had to forcefully recede the claws around his hands so he could finger you. That was it. Even then, you never asked him to do it. More often than not you would fuck yourself on your own hand to get your body ready for him so he didn’t have to go through the painful process that was sheathing his claws. Not even when you were in the throes of passion and he held you too tight and they dug into your skin you never complained or asked him to stop. You desired him exactly as he was, never asking to soften his sharp edges. He wished there was more he could do for you.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving soft kisses from your throat, your sternum, between the valley of your breasts, and further down your abdomen and your hips. Your legs were already open inviting him in. He kissed up your thighs. A small whine left you when he had skipped over your cunt to pepper your other thigh with kisses, a grin on his face. He wanted to sink his teeth in but he knew the first bite he took would be his mating bite and he wanted to put it somewhere he could see it even when you had your clothes on, although the idea of being hidden where only he knew was exciting too. He’d just have to leave other marks there.

He finally directed his attention back to your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your throbbing clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. Your moans were immediate and he loved how they echoed in this meadow.

He moved his attention lower to your pussy, tasting the sweetness of your arousal. Everything about you was always so warm and sweet and he wondered how he had gone so long without it. He wanted to do this for you every day. Spread you wide and drink you down until you were nothing but a pile of limp shaking limbs, spent and dizzy with desire.

Your hands carded through his hair before grabbing hold of his horns. Fuck! His tongue moved faster, probing inside your cunt, lapping up every drop of arousal straight from the source. You were deliberately moving your hands up and down his horns to turn him on even more.

“You’re very handsy today.” he groaned, pulling back just enough to speak.

“I like it when you moan against my cunt.” you said, your breathing labored.

“I bet you do.” he smirked, licking a stripe up your cunt. The tip of his tongue teasing your clit again. He kept your gaze as he devoured you, his moans sending vibrations through your body while you ground against his face.

“That’s it, wildfire,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, “Come for me. Come all over my face. I need you to come for me.”

“Ah! Fuck! Sylus!” your voice was cracked and pleading. “Oh fuck! Almost--almost--Sylus! Sylus! Please! Sylus!”

Sylus watched as your eyes fell closed, unable to keep them open while your orgasm drowned you. Your body was still moving, grinding against his face as he worked you through your orgasm until you finally stilled. Your legs shook slightly but other than that you seemed fine.

Good. He was far from done with you yet. At least now he knew your body was ready for him. He could truly take his time now.

“Still with me, wildfire?” he asked, coming back up to lay by your side.

“Yeah.” you breathed out. You rolled over to kiss him, a small moan escaping you as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Good. Because the next part of this is what solidifies the mating bond. If you want to stop, now is the time.”

You rolled your eyes and straddled yourself across him. “Never.”

“My brave bird.” he sat up to kiss you again. “It’s fairly easy what happens next. You have to pick a spot to bite. I plan on putting my mark right here,” he kissed you high on your neck. “Now you have to pick yours.”

“These mating bites are going to leave marks?”

“Yes. They fade a bit but they’ll still be noticeable, like an old scar.” Sylus explained. “Now, where do you want to put your mark on me?”

Your eyes roamed his body before you touched a spot on his throat as well, matching the spot he chose for you.

“Good choice.” he rolled you over so you were back under him. “I want to make love to you now. So don’t rush or try to make this harder or faster than it needs to be. We have all the time in the world for that later. Today, I want to be gentle with you. I don’t just want to say I love you. I want you to feel it down to your bones that I do.”

“Sylus,” you cupped his face, “I would love nothing more. I love you. I love you so much and I cannot wait to be your mate.”

“My mate…” he liked the sound of that.

He slowly sunk his cock inside of you. You were still so tight. He pulled out a bit and sunk in again, easing himself bit by bit into your pussy. Nothing felt as good or as right as it was when he was in you, moving with you.

He kept his body gently laid atop yours, making sure not to crush you under his weight. He just wanted to feel as much of you against his skin as he could.

When he finally was fully sheathed inside you he stayed there unmoving for just a moment to look you in the eyes. There was definitely lust but more than that, he saw love. He saw unwavering trust and adoration in your gaze. His wonderful little bird. You really did love him, didn’t you?

He pulled out and sunk back into you, his body rolling slowly against yours. He pressed his lips to yours again, taking every little sigh of yours down his throat. His body was screaming at him to go faster, take you harder until you were screaming his name. But he ignored it, keeping the pace slow and sweet. He wanted this moment to last as long as it could.

The sun dipped and disappeared over the horizon, leaving the pair of you under the pale watchful eye of the moon and stars. It reminded him of the night on the cliff overlooking the beach. The first time you had kissed him. The first time you had admitted to wanting him in the same way he wanted you.

Back then he had thought that what you had started would be something fun. Nothing serious. He had believed he was incapable of the love humans showed so he had not thought that anything could go wrong. He could not love and you would have been insane to fall for him. Yet here you now were. Your bodies moving together in an age old dance as he made you his mate. After tonight you would be his mate and nothing could undo it. You’d be his and he’d be yours…forever.

He had a brief thought as you moaned in his ear, nails scratching at the exposed skin of his back. If she’s my mate then I’m going to have to warn her about how intense dragon ruts can get after this. Hopefully rut wasn’t something he was going to have to worry about for a while so he had time to talk to you about it.

His pace got a little faster, a little harder as instinct and the need for release started to become more prevalent. Now was the time, before he lost all control.

“I’m going to mark you now.” Sylus said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you pulled him closer for one more kiss. “I love you, Sylus.”

“I love you too.” he nuzzled your neck, kissing the spot he planned to mark. He felt your own mouth on his neck, your lips soft and pressing against his pulse. Then the sharp bite of your teeth.

He groaned, opening his mouth and biting down hard on the spot high on your neck. Just like when your blood was mingled at the start, Sylus felt a shiver of magic course through him. He knew you felt it too.

Your pussy clamped down tight around his cock as you moaned against his neck. Then all at once his body erupted in fire. It spread from where your mouth was and flooded his blood. He felt renewed, invigorated, and more than that, he felt connected. Everything about you was amplified. The sound of your breath, the feel of your pussy, the taste of your skin.

Your legs locked around Sylus’s waist. When he pulled back from your neck he saw a small twinge of red glowing in your eyes, mixed in with the color of your irises. This was it. The magic at play, bonding you. Now all that was left to do was make you come undone around him.

His thrusts got faster but he refused to take you like an animal just yet. He wanted you to come around him as he made love to you. The first act as your mate, he wanted it done with love, not feral desire.

“My mate,” he said, his claws digging into the ground on either side of your head as a method of control. “I want you to come for me.”

“My mate,” you gasped out, eyes full of joyful tears. “Come with me. I want you to come with me.”

He loved the way that sounded on your tongue. My mate.

His thrusts grew quicker and stuttered out of rhythm as his orgasm drew closer. Everything was too hot. He needed to cool down. He needed to finish in you. But he wanted to feel you come around him first. Wanted your pussy to squeeze every last drop of his cum out as you came. You were so close he could tell. Just a little more.

“I need you to come for me.” his voice edged on begging, so close to coming. “I’ll only come when you come.”

“Sylus!” you were sobbing with need. “Please! Please! So close!” Your hand snaked between you two and swiped at your clit.

“Yes! Hells yes! Make yourself feel good.” he was rutting against you now, so painfully close. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this. “Come. For. Me!” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust.

Then, your pussy clenched, gripping and gushing around him as you came. Your moans echoed across the still night air for miles. And Sylus followed you into sweet oblivion, spending every drop of his cum into your tight cunt. And he couldn’t fucking stop! It felt as if your pussy had truly milked everything from him, pushing everything out with each flutter of your hot slick walls.

Your body glistened with sweat and your eyes were closed as you took in deep breaths, your arms and legs still wrapped tight around him.

Even in the pale light of the moon he could make out the mark on your neck claiming you as his own. He bent closer, kissing it gently. Slowly your body started to relax as he kissed you and whispered comforting words in your ear. At last your legs unhooked from behind his back. Sylus unearthed his claws from the soil.

“I’m going to pull out now.” he said. Your eyes were still closed but you nodded. There was a small wince as he pulled away. You were still incredibly sensitive. So, very carefully he took you by the hips and rolled you on top of him so you weren’t pressed into the cold ground anymore.

“You were so good.” he whispered, “Take deep breaths, relax. Let your muscles release that tension and just melt. It’s alright. I’m right here with you.”

“Sylus,” you opened your eyes once more. The red that had been in them had disappeared. “We’re mates now?”

The smile nearly split his face. “Yes, we’re mates now.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now and forever.”

“Now and forever.” you repeated, a tired but joyful smile on your own face. You laid your head back down.

Sylus stared up into the sky at the vast endlessness of the inky blackness that stared back, with you laying atop him breathing gently. And in that moment he felt true peace for the first time in his life. No matter what happened now, your very souls were bound together. No force in the heavens above or the hells below could undo it. You harmoniously and irrevocably belonged to each other.

Now and forever.

[withhugsandkisses]

daisuke, you shouldn't have ! ..really

wrote this with fem reader in mind, but i think it could be seen as gen neutral! daisuke tries to impress you by doing stupid cliche stuff. i thought about this, and i wasn't gunna write it but everyone (one person) said they'd read it so here we go! fluffy , fluffy, stupid fluff. proofread once, if any mistakes pls tell me

the amusement park was fun. you swore you'd never go on a date there because you were embarrassed of your scream on rollercoasters. but it didn't matter anymore since daisuke's was equally as ,if not more, bad.

walking hand in hand with him, you nodded as he spoke about god knows what, cotton candy in his hand. that's when your eyes drifted and you saw such a cute plush! hanging right there, practically begging you to take it home with you! "oh my god." you spoke out instinctively.

"what? what? babe, what??" your boyfriend spoke fast, noticing how fast your face was to drop. he noticed your eyes looking behind him and quickly turned around to see what caught your gaze. ahhh that plushie. making eye contact with it, he felt the biggest smirk fall upon his face. he used to wish upon stars for movie moments like this.

your trance was broken when cotton candy was shoved into your face. "hold this." you heard daisuke say smugly. you were taken back at first, holding the cotton candy reluctantly. but when daisuke started to stretch his arms, you felt yourself smile. "i'll win that for ya babe, no biggie at all!" he said a little too proudly, striding up to the carnival game confidently. you followed behind with a pep in your step.

daisuke pulled out his wallet, grabbing some cash and handing it to the stand worker. "three balls please." the stand worker nodded, taking his cash and giving him three baseball balls upon his request. so it was one of these games. he looked behind him, straight to you to give you a wink.

when you made eye contact with him, you realised your face had changed. you knew how these type games could be. you started to doubt him. just a tiny tiny bit!! but he couldn't know that! you fixed your face quickly and nodded, giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

daisuke rose his hand and threw a ball, right in-between the cans. but it hardly did anything, merely shifting them slightly. it was no secret that daisuke dabbled in sports, so this outcome to him was unacceptable. he grunted and squinted his eyes. "okay.." you could hear him softly talking to himself through this.

grasping the second ball, he threw it, but again, to no avail. "what??" daisuke said a little louder, the shock evident in his voice. you had to stifle a laugh, not wanting him to hear you. you watched him grab the last ball as you bit off some of his cotton candy.

third times a charm? nah. the last ball didn't do anything either. daisuke squinted his eyes harder at the cans, as if he could just move it with his mind. he looked so annoyed. you walked up from behind him and placed your chin on his shoulder. "awhhh, its ok daisy." you cooed. "you know how these games can be-" this time you were cut off..by..his..hand? he shoved his hand in your face!

completely dismissing what you said, he grabbed more cash from his wallet and handed it to the stand worker. "three more..please." he was always so respectful, even when he was pissed off. you stepped back away from him, letting him do his thing.

this time it took longer. he spent more time trying to time his throws, doing his best to use what he learned from his sports lessons. but it felt like no matter what angle he threw at, he couldn't do it! you could sense the scowl on his face.

once again, you walked up to him, this time placing a hand on his arm sweetly. "ok i'm serious. let's find a ride to go on. i can probably look for this thing on amazon or someth-" "no" he cut you off again.

it felt like a time loop. he grabbed out his cash, asking for another round. now usually you'd feel inclined to tell him not to waste his money, but two things stopped you. one, he's basically rich due to his parents. two, you knew there was no stopping him. you silently questioned if this was even for you anymore. maybe it was for his ego, too stubborn to lose to a simple carnival game. you looked at his cotton candy. you had already finished about half of it.

he was on his second to last ball. daisuke took a deep breath and closed his eyes, like he was saying a silent prayer. you rolled your eyes. but that's when it happened. he threw the ball harder than he'd has been, right in the middle of the cans. whatever magic that's been holding them together was undone by his throw, the cans immediately falling out of place and scrambling onto the floor. your eyes were wide and you made eye contact with the stand worker who's eyes were also wide.

looking back to your boyfriend, you could see that daisuke was breathing heavily. it was like he took all his anger and put it into that throw. seeing that he won, his demeanour changed so quick. he looked at you proudly with a big toothy smile, you could practically see his tail wagging. the stand worker spoke up, taking both of your attention. "what um. what plush would you like..?" they asked you.

you pointed to the big plush. the reason for all this. the stand worker nodded and got the plush off the hook, handing it to you. you gave daisuke back his half eaten cotton candy, and took the plush happily. feeling the soft, fluffy fabric made it all worth it. you looked into it's eyes, your own sparkling like a child's.

leaving the stand, your boyfriend took one of your hands and guided you since you couldn't stop looking at your new child. "see, told you i'd win!"

you scoffed and rolled your eyes, looking over to him. "yeah whatever godzilla, you practically destroyed those cans." you teased, seeing the boys face redden just a tiny bit.

"yeah. ok. like..whatever, you still got your prize." he retorted.

you leaned in closer and let out a hum in agreement. leaning up a little, you kissed his cheek. "thank you, my love!"

you heard his stupid giggle as you now took the lead to the newest rollercoaster.

an: yes yes waiter! more fluff material please! im in love with it! also im thinking of writing for mha characters too...but im SCARED!! im so worried id mischaracterise them so hard oof...

[rafecswhore]

almost, always. - r.c x pogue! reader

summary: you and rafe cameron were always on opposite sides of the outer banks—pogue versus kook, wild optimism versus self-destructive chaos. when the relationship fell apart a year ago, you thought it was over. but as rafe reappears in your life with his clean slate and a determination to change, you’re forced to confront the question: is it too late to rebuild what you once had?

present day: first encounter

the sun was low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the quiet gas station parking lot. you’d just finished your shift at the wreck, your body sore and your mind a little numb from hours of work.

you stood at the pump, watching the numbers climb painfully slowly. you weren’t paying much attention—until the unmistakable growl of a truck engine filled the air.

you froze. you didn’t need to turn to know whose truck it was.

still, curiosity won.

a quick glance confirmed it: rafe cameron.

but he didn’t look like the rafe you remembered. gone were the messy blond locks you used to run your fingers through. his hair was buzzed now, a clean-cut look that felt jarring against the wildness you knew he carried.

he stepped out of the truck, his movements casual, but there was tension in his shoulders. topper was with him, rambling on about something you didn’t care to hear. then, like he could feel you looking, rafe’s eyes flicked toward you.

you saw the moment he recognized you. his body went still, his mouth parting slightly like he wasn’t sure if you were real.

“y/n,” he said, his voice carrying across the parking lot.

you wanted to look away, pretend you hadn’t seen him, but it was too late now.

“rafe,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral.

topper, ever the instigator, smirked and muttered something to rafe before disappearing into the truck.

rafe didn’t move. he just stood there, staring at you, his buzzed hair catching the last rays of sunlight.

“you look… different,” he said finally.

you snorted, turning back to the pump. “so do you.”

“yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “trying something new.”

“well, good for you.”

you finished filling your tank, shoved the nozzle back in place, and climbed into your car. as you pulled away, you could still feel his eyes on you.

flashback: how it began

the first time you met rafe, you wanted to punch him in the face.

you were working a double shift at the wreck, exhausted and over it, when he walked in with topper and kelce. they weren’t regulars. kooks usually avoided pogue hangouts unless they wanted to cause trouble.

“what is this place, a charity kitchen?” topper had joked loudly as they sat down, earning a round of laughter from the group. you rolled your eyes, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table.

“if you’re not happy, you know where the door is,” you said, slamming the beers down harder than necessary. rafe looked up at you, his blue eyes sharp and a little amused. “feisty,” he said, smirking. “i like it.”

“yeah, well, i don’t like you,” you shot back, turning to walk away.

later that night, when you were taking the trash out, he was waiting for you by the back door.

“what do you want, cameron?” you asked, crossing your arms. “just wanted to say sorry,” he said, his tone surprisingly genuine. “and… maybe ask you out.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “not a chance.”

but something about the way he smiled—crooked, a little shy—stayed with you.

present day: the bonfire

you didn’t know he’d be there.

the bonfire was supposed to be a fun night, a chance to let loose with your friends. but when rafe’s truck pulled into the chateau driveway, the energy shifted.

“why the hell is he here?” jj muttered, glaring as rafe stepped out. “sarah invited him,” kiara said, rolling her eyes.

you tried to focus on stacking firewood, pretending you didn’t notice the way rafe’s buzzed head stood out against the crowd.

but you noticed.

it was impossible not to.

he didn’t say much, keeping to the edges of the group. but his eyes found you every chance they could. when you finally stepped away to get some air, it didn’t take long for him to follow.

“y/n,” he called softly, his voice careful.

you turned to face him, your arms crossed. “what do you want, rafe?”

he hesitated, his hands shoved into his pockets. “i just… i wanted to talk.”

“about what?”

“about us,” he said, his blue eyes scanning your face. “about… everything.”

“rafe—”

“i know i messed up,” he said quickly. “i know i wasn’t what you needed, and i don’t blame you for leaving. but i’ve been trying. i swear, i’ve been trying.”

you stared at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

“why now?” you asked, your voice quiet.

he ran a hand over his buzzed head, his jaw tightening. “because i can’t stop thinking about you. because no matter what i do, it always comes back to you.”

flashback: the breakup

it wasn’t one fight that ended things. it was a hundred little ones.

but the final straw came one night when rafe showed up drunk to your birthday dinner, hours late and reeking of whiskey.

“you couldn’t even try,” you said, your voice shaking as he leaned against the doorway of your apartment.

“i’m here, aren’t i?” he slurred, his words biting.

“this isn’t working, rafe,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “we’re not working.”

“don’t do this,” he said, his tone desperate. “please, y/n. don’t.”

but it was already done.

a small, genuine smile spread across his face. “as slow as you need.” and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe in the possibility of almost, always.

present day: the second chance

“you hurt me,” you said, your voice trembling as you stood on the dock, staring at the boy who had once been your world.

“i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “and i’ll never forgive myself for that. but i swear, y/n, i’m not that guy anymore.”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his buzzed hair, his tired eyes, the way his shoulders seemed lighter but still carried the weight of something unspoken.

“why should i believe you?” you asked.

he stepped closer, his voice soft but steady. “because i’m still standing here, trying. because you’re the only thing that’s ever felt worth it.”

your heart ached, torn between fear and hope.

“we’ll take it slow,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.