#but these three should be different enough to keep me occupied for a while

[valleydolli]

Only You | Chapter Two

Cw 𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…)

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist…

𝜗𝜚 Chapter One… | Chapter Three…

𝜗𝜚 WC: 3k

Luckily for Sukuna, his extremely compliant twin agreed to let him pick up his son from school, but the weekend couldn’t have been any slower for Sukuna.

Anything he did to occupy himself and keep you from creeping your way into his mind was a dud. He’s starting to think you’ve put some sort of spell on him. A minute couldn’t pass without you running through his twisted mind.

Any second he had to himself, he would spend it scrolling through your Instagram, saving some, if not all, pictures you’ve posted into a folder he has already made specially for you. Lucky for him, you post a lot, a bit too much. He doesn’t like that, you can't do that when you’re finally his. You just seem too… open.

Too trusting.

Too naïve.

See, you’ve tagged your apartment complex as a location, and you’re wearing a shirt with your work logo in another one of your posts. Your profiles are public for God's sake.

You’re incredibly naive.

You don’t know half of the disgusting, evil men out there. But it’s fine, he’s here now. Sukuna will always be there to keep you safe. He’s your protector. He’s your saviour. He was put on this earth for the sole purpose of protecting you, his angel.

You are his angel.

“What’re you doing to me?” Sukuna whispers to himself. He’s never felt this way before. He's never had someone occupy his mind to this extent. He’s never wanted to be with a woman like this. He doesn’t do relationships, as cliche as it sounds, but he would have rather been alone for the rest of his life. He's never wanted to have a girlfriend by his side, to hold, to kiss, to love, to protect. But with you, it’s different, you’ve changed him for the better. He needs you, and you need him.

You need each other.

*Ping*

‘I’ve found some stuff on the girl…’ Toji messages

Sukuna sighs heavily. Toji really tests his damn patience.

‘Like what, Toji? Don’t beat around the bush.’

‘My bad…’

‘She’s studying Art at university, in her 2nd year, and umm, she’s also a teacher at Megumi's preschool. Yano with your nephew… probably should have mentioned that, huh?’

What. The fuck. Jin AND Toji knew who you were before him?!

‘Toji, don’t piss me off. I told you her name, you don’t know her fucking name?’

‘I’m sorry, I dont know her fucking name. They just call her Miss Fluttershy or somethin, from that kids' show? My little horse? I think she mentioned her name before, I just forgot…’

‘You’re so fucking useless sometimes.’ Sukuna runs his large hand down his face.

My God. Yuji talks about you every fucking day. You gave him those stupid colouring books.

“Miss Fluttershy.”

The kids’ just as obsessed with you as he is.

‘Do you know what days she’s working?’

‘Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays’

‘Perfect.’

~~~

As Monday finally rolls by, Sukuna couldn’t be more thrilled to see you again. There hasn’t been a second since he met you that he hasn’t thought about you. What will you wear? A dress? It’s quite warm today. What perfume will you use? Do you have a favourite? How will you style your hair? In a bun? No, a ponytail!

His body is practically buzzing with excitement just to see your face again.

To smell you.

To hear your voice…

The way you say his name... It’s been echoing through his mind.

So soft and delicate.

What would you sound like yelling his name? What would you sound like moaning his name, while he slid his thick inches into your tight walls.

“Fuck…” he sighs, as he rubs against his growing member—

No.

Stop.

It’s almost 14:00, he’s got 30 minutes until he needs to pick up Yuji, (and meet the love of his life again,) and he looks a fucking mess. Hair disheveled, five o’clock shadow. He looks nasty. It’s not good enough for him. It’s not good enough for you.

Sukuna finally pulls himself out of bed, throwing on a wife-beater, a grey tracksuit and shaving his five o’clock shadow.

Great. Presentable.

15 minutes.

15 minutes until he sees you again.

~~~

“Come on, Yuji, honey, your daddy’s here.”

“No, it’s not my Papa, it’s Uncle,” the pink-haired boy says as he grasps onto your hand.

Oh, the mysterious brother Jin always speaks about, and the Uncle little Yuji admires.

“Really? I can’t wait to meet him! I’m sure he’s just as lovely as you.”

“No, he’s a big meanie,” The young boy deadpans.

Oh…

As you turn the corner with little Yuji trailing by your side, you’re faced with someone you didn’t expect to see at your place of work.

Sukuna.

How does he know where you work— wait. Is he here for Yuji? He’s Jin’s brother? The brother Jin and Yuji mentioned countless times?

There you are, and you look so beautiful. He was right, you’re wearing a dress. A floral dress. How adorable. He just wants to dress you up like the doll you are— wait.

You’re flustered. Why are you flustered? Aren’t you happy to see him? Did he do something wrong?

“Sukuna? You’re Yuji's uncle?” You inquired, “Wow… Come to think of it, you guys look so much alike. I should have noticed the moment I looked at you, huh?”

You begin to chuckle to yourself

“Actually, I think Jin and Yuji are happier looking than you.”

“He’s always angry, Miss Flutter,” Yuji chimes in.

He’s holding your hand why is he still holding your fucki—

No, he’s not about to be jealous of his 4-year-old nephew, no way.

Control yourself.

“Mhm, that little brat is my nephew.”

“I’m not a brat!” Yuji calls out

“You’re right, sweetheart, you’re the cutest one here, but don’t tell anyone I said that, okay? It’s our little secret.”

He vigorously nods his head, “Mhm, I promise!”

You’re good with kids, you’re so good with kids. You don’t understand how attractive that makes you. Oh, how desperately he wants to make you a mother. A mother to his kids, his twin—

“Suku, can Miss Flutter get ice cream with us?” He hears his nephew say.

Oh my God.

Yuji, you fucking genius.

“He’s right, you should come, it’s by my place, ‘Kaspas.’ I can take you home afterwards?”

Say yes.

“I do love that place, but I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

Angel, there wouldn’t even be a point in Sukuna's miserable life where you could intrude. Ever. If he could keep you by his side forever. He would.

“You could never intrude. Come on, my treat before our date.” He smirks as he desperately tries to convinces you to get ice cream with him… and Yuji.

Just fucking say yes. Do you not want to be around him?

“Hmm… okay fine, I’ll come along. Let me get my stuff quickly.”

Thank fuck.

Sukuna lets out a relieved sigh. You’re difficult. Is that normal for you? If it is, he's got to correct it. He can't have a disobedient girl by his side.

No way.

Again, Yuji pulls him out of his thoughts, “Suku, do you like Miss Flutter?” The young boy asks as he looks up at his uncle.

Sukuna chuckles and leans down to the boy’s ear and whispers,

“Don’t be a nosy brat.”

~~~

As you make your way to the car park, with Yuji still grasping onto your hand, you come into sight with Sukuna's car, an extremely expensive car. What the hell does he do for a living?

“Detective,” He answers back.

“Huh?”

“You’re thinking out loud. I’m a detective,” he admits.

“Woah, it pays well clearly,” you say as he opens the car door for you.

“Aren’t you a gentleman?”

“Just for you, angel,” he winks.

You’ve been watching him drive for the past five minutes. You can’t help but stare. He’s so beautiful. He and Jin hardly look alike as twins. Don’t get it twisted, Jin is just as attractive as his brother, but there’s something so ethereal about Sukuna's features. Almost as if he’s not a real person. Does he have any flaws? He was perfectly sculpted by the gods themselves. His arms are… massive, he clearly spends a lot of his time in the gym. His nose… is so… rideable. My goodness, how did you get this guy to approach you?

“You’re staring, angel, you like what you see?” Sukuna questions, as he cocks his brow.

“Yes, I actually do.” You shyly replied

“Well, we don’t live far from each other, you’re more than welcome to see me more.”

“I know I’m just— I’m really busy, as much as I’d like to see you, I need to focus on school and work…”

Sukuna wants to be mad, but you’re such a good fucking girl. You should focus on your studies, yes, but what about him? His focus is on you right now, so why isn’t yours on him?

Bullshit

“But, maybe we could have dinner tonight?” You innocently ask.

“I’m making lasagna, do you like it?”

“I love it, Miss Flutter!” Yuji chimes from the backseat

Honestly, Sukuna forgot Yuji was here.

Sukuna sternly looks at the boy through his rearview mirror. “No, you’re going home after this, brat.” He asserts.

“Hmph,” you hear from the sulking child, as he crosses his arms and pouts his lips.

“I’ll love whatever you’re making,” He grins.

“You might be my biggest fan behind Yuji, Sukuna. You’re not gonna start stalking me, are you?”

Sukuna grin falters

“‘Course not, I’m a normal guy. I promise.”

Liar.

~~~

The three of you arrive at the dessert parlour, 20 minutes later. It’s understandably packed since it’s a warm day. You find a table in the corner of the shop, giving Yuji the seat by the window, and Sukuna sitting opposite you.

“Hi, what can I get you guys today?”

“Cookies and cream!” Yuji yells at the server

“And for you, pretty?”

Sukuna's eyes darken and snap towards the boy. The fuck did he say?

You giggle.

You fucking giggled.

You think that pathetic attempt at flirting is cute?

“Vanilla ice cream, please, and some cookie dough.”

“And for you?” the guy mutters at Sukuna.

Sukuna side-eyes the server and mumbles a quick “nothing.”

The audacity this kid has to speak to you like that and you like it?!

“Sukuna, are you okay? You don’t want anything?”

“I'm not big on sweet things,” he comments bluntly.

“Oh-kayy, it’ll be about five minutes.” He finally walks away.

That little shit. Who the fuck does he think he is. And why the fuck are you feeding into his bullshit?

“What a creep,” he hears you say.

“I swear, everytime i come here he does that shit, it’s boring.”

“Does he bother you?”

“Every damn time. I just pretend I’m into it now, he was way creepier before,” you pout as you look out the window.

Sukunas lips twitch into a smirk.

Angel, you're never seeing that piece of shit again after today. Don't worry your pretty little head.

He’ll protect you.

“Why don’t we take it to go? And I’ll take you and the kid home before dinner,” Sukuna proposes.

“Yeah, I’d like tha—“ you begin to say but that dumbass server cuts you off.

“Here are your orders. And this is for you,” he winks at you before walking away.

It’s his number.

“Well, I guess he’s feeling confident today, huh?” You awkwardly say.

“Come on, Yuji, let’s go,” you say as you grab his smaller hand in yours to leave. You make sure not to pick up the tissue with the server's number on it and make your way to Sukuna's car. But don’t worry, Sukuna definitely made sure to pick up the tissue and stuff it in the pocket of his joggers.

“How about you take Yuji back without me, and I get started on dinner? I'll text you my address,” you say, but you don’t give Sukuna the chance to answer back, you’re already walking away.

“Bye, Yuji!” You wave.

Sukuna hates to see you go but fuck, he loves to watch you leave. How long until he gets a hold of you, really? How long until he can see you every second of every day? Really, how long? What if he kept watch of you—no, that's too much… is it though? He’d be able to keep an eye on you from afar, for now at least. It's not too much if it's keeping you safe.

“C'mon, kid, let’s go.”

~~~

You've never cooked for a guy before. I mean, you've cooked for Satoru before, but he's not a guy, he's… Satoru. Satoru, who lives down the hall, Satoru. You know? You wonder if he and Sukuna will get along if you both continue seeing each other.

You've texted Sukuna your address, so he should arrive soon. Luckily, you're prepared to have guests today, your apartment is spotless, well besides your bedroom but he won’t see that. Fuck you’re nervous, over some guy? But he's not just some guy. You've known his brother, his twin brother, for over a year now. This is insane.

Finally, you hear a knock at your door. He’s here. Gosh, are your palms sweating right now?

Calm down, you’ve got this. The food looks good, and you look good. Everything's going to be just fine. Now just open the door.

Once you swing your door, you’re faced with the biggest assortment of flowers. Peonies, roses.

You're in awe.

“Sukuna… these flowers… they’re my favourtie.”

You tweeted that they were your favourite flowers in 2018… Yes, he scrolled that deep into your socials.

“Gosh, they're so beautiful, thank you. I don't know where to put them. Come in quick before the food gets cold.” You say as you hurry excitedly to your kitchen.

Your apartment's cute.

Cosy, for a girl like you.

Sukuna bets you’d feel cosier in his apartment. You’d have so much more space for your books, your pretty shoes, your dresses. You’d feel at home. Home is wherever he is. You need to live with him. You need his protection. But for now he can just watch you. How? He has 4 mini cameras stuffed in his pockets he's planning on hiding around your apartment. There’s already one outside your door so he can see who comes in and out of your place.

He just needs to figure out where he wants to put the rest of them.

“Here, sit. Do you want something to drink? I have wine, some tropical juice and water of course.”

“I’ll just have water, I've actually got to go into work later.”

“Work.” He’s actually going to beat the shit out of the server that’s been harassing.

That’s still work, right?

“So,” you begin as you take a seat opposite Sukuna.

“I still can’t believe you’re Jin’s twin. You just seem the complete opposite especially in looks. You’re fraternal, right?”

“Yeah, I’m 6 minutes older.” He tells you

You sigh longingly, “I’ve always wanted twins… girls of course.”

You were made for each other.

“Wow, so do I, what a coincidence,” he admits.

“We might as well get started then, huh?” You suggest as you sip your wine.

He chokes on his drink.

What’d you say?

But before Sukuna can reply back there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey, you in there?”

A guy? What man is looking for you at this hour.

You roll your eyes before pushing back your chair and making your way to open the door for said man.

“Yes, ‘Toru? I’m kind of busy right now.”

‘Toru?

“I’m sorry but I could really need some help… please?” This “‘Toru” says with a charming smile.

Annoying.

“‘Kuna, you don’t mind if I help my neighbour quickly?”

“Kuna…”

“No, not at all.” Now if he didn’t need to hide the 4 cameras in his pocket around your house, he would mind. But this “‘Toru” guy is honestly helping him out.

“Ten minutes,” you tell him as you shut your door.

Sukuna instantly rises from his seat and makes a Beeline for your bedroom.

It’s messy.

You didn’t make your bed. Do you leave your bed unmade everyday? There’s a bottle of water on your side table. You didn’t finish it.

Weren’t you thirsty last night?

Sukuna runs his large hands across your bed sheets. Running his fingers along each crease you’ve made.

What side do you sleep on? Away from the door, right?

Makes you feel safe.

“Who else has slept in here? That ‘Toru?” He spits as he kneels down to your bed level

He can smell you. So sweet. What perfume is that? He puts his face right into your sheets and breathes your scent in deeply.

“Fuck,” he mutters into your sheets.

He was practically drooling.

“God, I think I love you, Angel.”

He’s started to rub on his crotch, your smell is getting to him.

Rock hard.

He’s a creep but he doesn’t care. You’re like a drug.

An addiction.

His addiction.

He begins to pull out his leaky length from his boxers, rubbing his thumb across his swollen red tip.

So much pre-cum it’s dripping onto the side of your duvet.

He strokes himself back and forth steadily, still breathing into your unmade bed.

It’s your hand stroking him; pretend it’s you. You’re whispering his name softly…

Sensually

His pace quickens.

You might be back soon. He needs to hurry. You can’t see him in such a… pathetic state. You can’t see him in this state at all. Not yet at least.

The schlick sound of his length could be heard from the other room, he’s desperate at this point. Whining for you, pleading for you.

“L-love you. Ugh, I love you, Angel.” He cries out as if he's confessing to you.

“Need you. So b-bad.”

His core tightens, hands clutching onto your sheets.

Wishing the load he’s about to release was spilling into your womb instead.

Soon

His throat lets out a guttural moan, he’s cumming, but not into you.

Into his hand.

His fucking hand.

Pathetic.

After Sukuna recuperates himself, he places each camera in a spot he knows you won’t see, but he’ll definitely see you.

He also takes a few presents for himself from your washing basket.

He’ll definitely make good use out of them.

It’s been 10 minutes and you’re not back yet. What’re you doing with your neighbour?

Just as Sukuna is wondering where you are, you open your front door dishing out apologies for your absence.

He’s not mad… Only because he has a date to attend.

A date with the Parlour Boy.

𝜗𝜚 Authors Note: ehhhh. ehhhhhhh he was creeping me out at the end icl but uh what do you think? i’ve never write this much before. i know for a fact im gonna come back and rewrite things in the future but here you go! goodnight ♡

𝜗𝜚 Chapter One… | Chapter Three…

[ghostlynightpanda]

Cursed Exchange

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: When a Blood Demon Art causes a body swap between Tengen and you, you must navigate the chaos of living in each other’s skin until the demon is slain. But when Kyojuro unknowingly seeks advice what to do about his crush (believing you to be Tengen), you must decide whether to keep your emotions hidden or finally reveal the truth—even after the curse is broken.

warnings/content: Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader, mentions of sex, 2.009 words

"Stupid demon," you muttered in annoyance as you walked through the Butterfly Estate, frustration evident on your face. Or rather, not your face—Tengen's.

You and Tengen Uzui, your fellow Hashira, had somehow swapped bodies after simultaneously attacking a Lower Moon. In the chaos of adjusting to a body that wasn't your own, using a breathing style you weren't familiar with, the demon had managed to escape.

Your best guess? You were stuck like this until someone beheaded the demon. Hopefully, that would be soon, because at the moment, you were powerless. Sound Breathing was vastly different from Ice Breathing, and it would take time before you could even attempt to wield it properly.

"Ah, Tengen!" Kyojuro's voice boomed through the hallway, as energetic as ever.

"Kyojuro," you greeted him with a small smile before quickly remembering the situation. "Actually, I'm not—"

"I know you don't have time, but this will only take a minute," Kyojuro interrupted, stopping in front of you with a warm grin. "I'm going to take your advice and be more obvious in my courting."

His words made you pause, your eyebrows raising in surprise. "Courting?" you whispered, feeling a pang in your chest.

You had harbored feelings for Kyojuro Rengoku for quite some time now. How could you not? He was honorable and courageous, always uplifting those around him with a bright smile. His presence alone was enough to bring warmth and encouragement. Knowing he had his heart set on someone else, though—that stung.

"Yes," he continued, oblivious to your turmoil. "I've been trying to woo her for months now, but nothing seems to work. I considered stepping back, thinking she wasn't interested, but I decided I'd keep trying until she tells me to stop. At the very least, I want her to know how much I cherish and respect her. I still think it would be easier to just tell her outright, but I trust your judgment. After all, you are the one with three wives—your experience speaks for itself." He laughed, clapping your—Tengen's—shoulder.

You forced a small, almost defeated smile.

"Good luck, Kyojuro," you said sincerely, offering an encouraging nod. "But I should tell you—I'm not actually Tengen. We fought against a Lower Moon, and its Blood Demon Art caused us to swap bodies. It's me, Y/N."

Kyojuro instantly stiffened, his face turning beet red. He had just confided in you about his secret affections, unaware he wasn't talking to Tengen at all.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," you assured him gently. "I wish you the best. She'd be a fool not to like you back." With that, you turned away and quickly left, your heart feeling heavier with each step.

Your original task was to find Shinobu, hoping she could brew some sort of antidote to reverse the Blood Demon Art. However, as Aoi informed you, she was away on a mission and wouldn't return for a while.

"No luck?" Your own voice cut through the silence, making you glance toward your body—now occupied by Tengen.

"Shinobu is out," you muttered. "Let's just report back to the Master. I'm tired and want to lay down."

"What's got you in such a pissy mood?" Tengen asked, hurrying to match your stride. "You should be thrilled to be in my flashy body! I have to practically sprint just to keep up with your short legs."

"I'm not short," you shot back.

"You're still more than a head shorter than me. Ugh, I miss my body." He groaned dramatically before narrowing his eyes. "Seriously, though. You seem even more irritated than before. What's the deal?"

"Nothing," you muttered, avoiding his gaze. All you wanted was to hide away and stuff your face with onigiri.

"It's something," he insisted, smirking. "Come on, we're stuck together until that demon dies. Might as well bond. Spill your secrets."

You rolled your eyes. "You're annoying," you huffed before hesitating. Maybe he had an answer to your lingering question. "Did you know Kyojuro is in love with someone?"

Tengen raised a brow. "What exactly did he say?"

"That he's been courting someone for months and that he followed your advice."

"Ah, yes," Tengen sighed, rubbing his temple. "That's why I told him to be more obvious." He shook his head. "Look, I can't say anything. Just talk to him when you're back in your body."

"No, it's fine. It's none of my business—I was just curious." You hummed, then gestured ahead. "Come on now, if you don't hurry, we'll never get there."

"It's not my fault your legs are so short," Tengen shot back before catching himself. He had to stay on topic, not let himself get dragged into your usual banter. Then, as if a lightbulb went off, he smirked. "Wait… could it be that you're jealous?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Because you like him." His grin widened. "I may not be the Love Hashira, but I'm not blind. And I'm definitely not as obvious as some people." He snickered. "Don't worry—I won't tell him. Just talk to him when we switch back."

With that, the conversation ended, and the two of you continued your journey in silence.

The following days were surprisingly calm. Your master instructed the two of you to stay close in case the demon returned, so you temporarily moved into the Uzui mansion. Tengen's three wives made sure you felt welcome, though you could tell they were just as overwhelmed by the situation. After all, their husband now looked like a nineteen-year-old girl—it was bound to shift their dynamic.

Over the next few days, the other Hashira visited. Some came to check on you, hoping for a quick resolution, while others showed up purely to laugh at your misery. Not that you blamed them—if Sanemi had switched bodies with someone, you'd tease him too. It was just how your distant friendship worked.

Kyojuro visited as well, though he barely looked at you. It was clear he was uncomfortable, now that you knew about his crush. He probably hadn't wanted anyone to find out before he had the chance to confess. You understood. After all, you wouldn't want anyone to know you had a crush on him, either.

Despite the uncertainty, one thing reassured you: all of the Hashira, along with the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, were on high alert, determined to track down the Lower Moon responsible for your predicament. And finally, after just over a week, the demon was found.

That night, sleep eluded you. You kept checking, over and over, hoping you'd wake up in your own body. But worry gnawed at you—what if killing the demon didn't reverse the technique? What if the blood demon art was irreversible? What would that mean for your role as a Hashira? For Tengen and his wives?

At some point, exhaustion must have won because the next thing you knew, someone was shaking you violently.

"We're back!" Tengen's voice boomed through the house, making you jolt awake. His hands gripped your shoulders as he practically vibrated with excitement.

You groaned, pushing him off. "What are you—"

"It worked! We switched back!"

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Instead of staring at yourself, you were looking at Tengen. Just as it should be.

Your heart pounded as you scrambled out of bed, shoving past him and running to the mirror in the corner of the room.

"Oh, thank god," you breathed in relief, staring at your own reflection. "I don't think I've ever been this happy." A wide smile spread across your face as you hugged yourself, feeling like you again.

"Tell me about it!" Tengen laughed, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, I'll be honest with you. Having you as a houseguest was great, and I really don't want to throw you out, but—" His voice dropped into a dramatic whisper. "I haven't been able to do anything with my wives for over a week, despite all three of them sleeping in bed with me. I can't wait a minute longer, so unless you want to hear everything—and trust me, we'll be loud—"

"I get it!" you interrupted, smacking his arm. "God, gross, I get it. I'm leaving right now." Despite your exasperation, you couldn't help but grin. "Tell them I was happy to stay. I'll come by next week with a cake as a thank-you."

"Sounds great! You're always welcome."

"Thanks, Tengen. Have fun."

"Oh, we will." He smirked.

You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Gross."

As you stepped outside, relief washed over you—only to be replaced by a different kind of nervousness when you spotted Kyojuro standing at the gate. He raised a hand in greeting.

"Kyojuro, hi!" you beamed, unable to hide your excitement. "Tengen and I switched back—thank god!" You let out a breathy laugh, still high on relief.

"I heard. Tomioka found the demon in a cave near Kiyokawa village."

"Tomioka? Well, I definitely owe him a thank-you card." You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. Then, lowering your voice slightly, you added, "If you were hoping to see Tengen, I have to warn you… terrible timing. He and his wives are, uh, making up for lost time."

Kyojuro let out a hearty laugh. "Of course. What else would one expect?"

"But if you'd like, I could walk you home," he offered, his expression softening. "If you'll let me."

"Yes!" you blurted, then immediately flushed. "I mean… I'd like that."

His smile widened as he offered his arm. You hesitated for only a second before looping yours through his, your cheeks growing even warmer as the two of you started down the path.

"I was meaning to talk to you," he said after a moment. His usual brightness dimmed slightly, his gaze flickering to the fading stars overhead. "I wanted to explain what I told you when I thought you were Tengen."

"You don't have to—"

"But I want to." He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt as well. "What I told you was the truth. I have been trying to court someone. But as it seems… I haven't been doing a very good job. They don't even seem to realize I'm trying."

You swallowed, nodding slowly. "Maybe you shouldn't follow Tengen's advice," you said carefully. "I'm not saying his methods are wrong, but what works for him might not work for you. Just do what feels natural—your own way."

It was hard giving him advice on how to win over another person. But you loved him, and that meant wanting his happiness—even if it hurt.

He smiled, and before you could react, he took both of your hands in his.

"Y/N L/N," he said, his voice steady but warm. "You captured my attention the first time I saw you all those years ago. And it didn't take long before you captured my heart as well. You're loyal, sincere, and brave—fierce yet kind. Despite being the Ice Hashira, your warmth draws people in. Drew me in. I've spent months trying to show you how much you mean to me, as a fellow Hashira, as a friend, as someone I wish to spend my life with. But since my actions weren't enough, let me be clear—I love you."

Golden eyes burned into yours, full of sincerity.

"Kyojuro, I—" You faltered, struggling to find words that could match the depth of his confession. Nothing seemed enough.

Until it did.

Without overthinking, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It was simple, yet it conveyed everything.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Kyojuro."

His hands tightened around yours, a radiant smile spreading across his face. And as the first light of dawn bathed the world in gold, you knew—this was just the beginning.

Masterlist

[ilythena]

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 || 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM after spending a night in a small island, luke keeps seeing you everywhere he goes.

SMUT! Fem!reader, let’s just pretend alcohol is free for them, reader is not a human, oral (?), p in v, obsession, praise, Luke is a pussydrunk FOOL, definitely submissive Luke over here guys, one night stand turned spooky….readers a succubus? Idk guys I just like writing smut… this will probs have a part 2

♪ CANDY - DOJA CAT

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Jack sighs as the flight attendant announces that they would unfortunately have to stay a night in this random island after the plane had difficulties.

The plan was simple, get on the plane to Australia, stay there for a few days, and then fly back to New Jersey. But like his life, things were never easy for him.

Luke groans in annoyance as the flight attendant looks at him with guilt on their face even though everyone knew it technically wasn’t their fault, and set them up for three different hotel rooms a few minutes away from the airport they had to emergency land in

“Well, at least they weren’t shitty enough to just leave us without rooms and put us somewhere” Nico says and the two brothers huff in dissatisfaction

“Come on! Cheer up! Like, let’s go out to a club! They gotta have one somewhere on this island.” He says and while everyone’s not pleased at their situation, they begrudgingly agree to his plan.

After a while and everyone’s settled, they google a club, look at the reviews, and luckily it was in walking distance so they wouldn’t have to pay for anything.

They get in there and the place is full of tourist and some locals scattered around the place, and it was actually kind of fun. Everyone was letting loose of the tense atmosphere they had earlier.

“Hey, I’m gonna go search for the bathroom! I’ll be back!” Jack shouts to Luke over the music and Luke nods his head in agreement. As jack’s seat next to Luke suddenly becomes empty, it quickly becomes occupied again as you slip into the seat

Well, more like your friend pushed you there after you’ve been eyeing the curly head the second he stepped into the resort you were staying in, but same thing.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you like that.” You say and straighten up his sleeve before he could do it himself. “…it’s fine. You’re fine.” He says and he could feel his breath suddenly getting caught in his throat at the sight of you next to him.

Your eyes capture him in a way he can’t escape, shining and glimmering under the clubs lights and he’s stuck, trying to tear his eyes away from yours and despite how hard he tries it’s impossible.

“You from here?” You say, moving your tone to a more flirtatious one as he shakes his head no. “You look a little overwhelmed…why don’t we step outside for a minute? Get you some air…” you whisper into his ear, pulling him close to you by his collar and Luke’s mouth is moving quicker than his mind as he chokes out a yes.

Before he realized it, you two were outside on the beach right next to the club, the waves crashing down onto the shore and the dress you’re wearing is slipping down your shoulders that Luke can’t tear his eyes off of.

“I never got your name? And honestly you didn’t get mine either.” You giggle and that’s what brings him down from his cloud of ecstasy, suddenly flustered that he’s out with a stranger. What about Jack? What if him and Nico are looking for him?

“U-um, my names Luke, I’m sorry, I don’t think I should be out here-“ he says and you silence him with a toothy grin that has his heart hammering against his chest

“Y/n. What’s stopping you? Got a lady back home?” You say, bringing your hands up to rub his chest and he fucking melts, you could tell he’s an awkward one, but that’s how you like them.

“N-no…..forget I said anything” he mumbles and despite the faint background music from the club, you could still hear him due to your proximity.

Looking into your eyes again, Luke can feel himself slipping into a foggy mindset. It’s like he can’t control himself despite not even knowing who you are.

A Deep feeling of anxiety swirls in his stomach, but lust quickly takes over him as he feels your lips press into his. Your teeth slightly biting into his lower lip makes his mouth drop open and you take that chance to shove your tongue into his mouth.

He moves his hands down to your waist and whines into the kiss as you reach your hands up to tug at his hair, the two of you kissing in the middle of the beach as if there wasn’t anyone else in the world.

Your plan was almost ripped away from you when you part away from him for air, and he gets a text as soon as you take your first breath away from Luke.

Jack 🏒

Didn’t think you were that type of person lukey 👀

Be safe!

You quickly shove his phone back down away from his eyesight so you can ensure that you can get Luke in your hands for good.

“Don’t worry about it, whatever it is.” You say grabbing him by his chin and redirecting his vision towards you. “Take me to your hotel? I’ll show you how we do it over here” you whisper and he takes you by surprise when he drags you towards the place.

You two messily stumble into his room and you don’t hesitate to get your mouth on his again, reaching for the bottom of his shirt and moving it upwards to rub his stomach and fidget with his belt at the same time.

You shove him down onto the bed and his face is astonishingly red, the bulge in his shorts making them unbearably tight.

He moves your hands out the way to take his belt off and you stop him, “you’re not gonna ask me? And here I am thinking you’d be obedient.” You tsk and he hesitates “what do you want me to do?” He whispers and you don’t skip a beat telling him to beg for it.

Attaching your lips to his neck, he lets out a small moan he was desperately trying to hold back and lets out a quiet please. “Please what? Ask me properly.” You demand and he shakily obeys “please, please take my shorts off.” He says and you finally shake them down his ankles to which he very swiftly kicked off.

“Good, knew you could do it for me.” you purr out and he huffs as you start to palm him through his boxers “please take those off too” he groans out, with a giggle you gently take his cock out and a hiss is heard through the room as the cool air hits his tip. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you pump him and small puffs of air escape his lips before you spit down on it to give him more lubrication

“Fuck, I’ve never- never been this fucking hard from a handjob before.” He moans out, another smiling snicker along with a kiss below his ear has him crumbling completely.

“C-can I mention how this isn’t fucking fair at all? I have my whole dick out and you’re fully clothed. Not really equal over here” he whines and you hum. “Want me to take my tits out?” “Dear god please do. Wanna see them so bad.” He breathes out and flinches when you swat his hand away when he tries to reach for your chest

“No touching.” You state and he grins, “really? Not gonna let me touch your chest, but you’re jerking me off- oh” he cuts himself off when you run your thumb over his tip as a gentle reminder that you expect to take control here.

“You have an attitude on you. I’m gonna take that away, but for now I guess I’ll give you what you want…” you say as you slowly move your dress down your shoulders to reveal yourself to him. You roll your nipple between the fingers of your free hand and he swears he can feel himself about to drool.

“Fuck, please? Can I at least put my mouth on them? You’re gonna kill me.” He grumbles out and you play pity on him, sliding your dress off and straddling him so you can push your panties to the side and rub himself between your folds.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you.” You state and he immediately latches onto your left boob, groaning in both disappointment and excitement when he feels your hand move him near your entrance

You can feel the vibrations of his muffled gasps when you rub his tip against your clit, anticipation biting Luke in his gut waiting for you to finally put him inside.

“Mmm, it’s so close, would be so easy to-“ “you’re getting bratty. Keep it up and I won’t hesitate to hold off your orgasm tonight.” You bark out, interrupting him. “Fuck, ‘m sorry” he mumbles, wiping the drool off his mouth and leaning back

“Oh fuck” he suddenly whimpers out when you finally have enough and slip him inside of you. When he reaches for you for a second time you have enough and pin his hands to his bed.

“Gonna pin me to the bed? H-oh god” he cuts himself off and you smile in satisfaction, knowing that he’s giving up that ‘wanna be dominant’ attitude.

The room is full of you two, the sounds of you bouncing on him and Luke’s whimpering along with your gasps

“Please let me touch you, I’m gonna fucking lose it over here. Please, please.” He begs and you coo down at him. His face red, eyes hooded, and begging for the most simple thing.

“Sure, baby. See? I’ll give you what you need, as long as you ask me nicely.” You let his wrist go and he immediately grabs handfuls of your ass, moaning when he’s able to feel your soft skin under his fingers

“I’m close.” He whines out and you look at him with confusion “already? We just started baby…..if you cum, how am I gonna get off?” You mock him and all of a sudden he feels this wave of embarrassment hit him, tossing his head back with a groan.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me. I’ve never- fuck- never been like this before for anyone.” You bite down behind his ear and he shudders “mmm… maybe I’m just different. All I know is that you shouldn’t cum yet.” You whisper and he shakes “can’t. I can’t hold it. You’re too fucking good.”

“Hold it.” You demand, and go right back to attacking his neck. “I’m trying. I’m trying.” He cries out, repeating himself. A small part of you wonders if he’s trying to convince you or himself, and right when he’s about to break, you let go of your pending orgasm and give in.

“Cum for me, Luke.” You rasp out, and he’s a mess as he comes undone under you. Shaking and eyes rolling into the back in his head, you get that feeling of accomplishment take over you as you orgasm. This is what you came here for.

Helping him ride out his orgasm, you gently grind yourself on him, watching him slowly come down from his high.

Everything for Luke after that is a blur. All he can remember was you cleaning him up and basically tucking him into bed before he knocked out.

The morning after, Luke woke up to Jack blowing his phone up, asking him where he was.

He frantically got up and got dressed, rushed to the airport, and met up with the other two boys. “Luke! Where were you at, man?” Nico asks and Jack smirks, looking at his younger brother.

“Lukey here had quite an eventful night if I say.” Luke can feel his face heating up at jacks words and brushes him off. “Whatever, man. Let’s just get on the plane?” He says and he was the first person to sit down and plug his headphones in as soon as he sat down, waiting for the flight attendant to give him the green light to board the plane.

As Nico goes over the plans for the trip when they land, Luke glances over to Jack and almost has a heart attack when he sees you sitting at the bar across the area from them. He sits up abruptly and when he glances at Nico for a second when his captain asks him what’s wrong and then looks back to where you were, you aren’t there anymore.

“…..Luke?” Jack repeats, concern spreading on his face as he waves his hand infront of Luke’s face. With his mouth parted and stuttering, he eventually says never mind and sinks back into his chair, gaining confused looks from both men next to him but slowly moving back into their previous conversation.

Sneakily glancing back to your spot, you still aren’t there, and he begins to wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him, but he can’t shake off the feeling that he was right.

Eventually he boards the plane and flies to Australia like it was meant to do, and Luke takes a nap. The rest of the flight is smooth, nice and quiet like he wanted it to be. He couldn’t stop thinking of you. What you two did last night, and if you were really there in the airport with him.

He wakes up when the plane lands, collecting his stuff and joking with Jack and Nico, he freezes when he leaves the plane and sees you again across the room talking to another girl.

He stands there for a solid second, staring holes into your back like if he looks away you’ll disappear. Jack bumps into him from behind due to the sudden stop and when Luke slightly lunges forward and his eyes snap off you for a second, you weren’t there anymore.

“Luke, are you okay? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.” Jack says, gently rubbing his shoulder after running into Luke and all of a sudden Luke can feel anxiety bubbling in his chest. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He states quickly, trying to return back to normal when Jack and Nico look at each other, both equally aware that something’s going on.

What they don’t know can’t hurt them.

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

I FUCKING HATE THE WAY I ENDED THIS but I wanna post for my pookies

[saffusthings]

chapter 2: you're on your own, kid

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where an opportunity arises.

word count: 1.3k

one | two | three

Oscar wasn’t reckless. Every decision he made, whether in business or in life, was careful, deliberate. So when she began to occupy more space in his thoughts than he was comfortable admitting, he decided to treat it like any of his other projects. Not emotionally - Oscar Piastri didn’t do emotional. 

Head over heart.

Always.

“Logan,” Oscar began one afternoon, his tone casual, as his assistant walked into the office. “What’s our updated status on next quarter’s internship positions?”

Logan, pulling up different tabs to cross-reference on his tablet, glanced up in confusion. “Internship positions? I thought we finalized those a few weeks ago. Everything’s locked in.”

“Remind me,” Oscar continued smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “Do we have any open spots in legal or compliance? Or plans to expand there?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Not really. Legal’s been fully staffed for a while now. And compliance? We’re in a good place there too.”

Oscar nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “Fair. Still, it might be worth revisiting. Fresh talent brings fresh perspectives. Maybe we’ve overlooked an opportunity.”

Logan blinked at him for a second before shrugging. “Sure. I can ask HR to review our pipelines, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Oscar said, returning his attention to the file on his desk as if the matter were entirely routine.

But it wasn’t.

The opportunity came just a few days later, during one of Logan’s more casual updates.

“She’s absolutely buried with exams and applications right now,” Logan said, shaking his head as he popped the lid off his coffee. “I told her she doesn’t need to worry—every firm out there would be fighting to have her—but she’s still stressing over it.”

“Job applications?” Oscar echoed, feigning mild interest.

“Yeah,” Logan said, settling into the chair across from him. “She’s picky, though. Doesn’t want to just take the first offer that comes along. Wants somewhere she actually respects.”

“Smart,” Oscar commented, his tone neutral but his mind already working. “With her qualifications, she’d be an asset anywhere. Including here.”

Logan blinked at the suggestion, surprised. “Here? You mean this company?”

“Why not?” Oscar asked, shrugging slightly. “We’ve always prioritized talent over experience. If she’s looking for opportunities, it wouldn’t hurt to suggest she apply. From everything you’ve said, she sounds like the kind of candidate we should be keeping an eye on.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a flicker of intrigue in his expression. “She is brilliant, but I don’t know if this is her kind of place. She’s more interested in the big-picture side of law. Impactful work, that sort of thing.”

“Impactful work doesn’t have to mean the nonprofit sector,” Oscar replied. “The right role, the right mentorship—it’s all about showing someone the potential in places they might overlook.”

Logan frowned thoughtfully, nodding as he mulled it over. “You’ve got a point. I could mention it to her, see what she thinks.”

“Good,” Oscar said simply, turning his gaze back to his monitor.

Logan left a few moments later, clearly still considering the idea.

Oscar stayed seated, tapping his pen lightly against the edge of his desk. It wasn’t much—just a suggestion, an idea planted carefully—but it was enough to start. If Y/N ended up walking through the doors of this building, no longer just a fleeting encounter on a crowded street, it would be because he’d given her the option.

And Oscar Piastri understood the power of giving someone the right option at the right time.

She had been staring at the email on her laptop for what felt like an eternity.

The subject line read: Exciting Opportunity at McLaren Ltd!—a suggestion Logan had dropped in conversation a week ago and followed up with a link to the company’s career portal. At the time, she’d laughed it off, telling him it wasn’t her kind of thing. 

Corporate law? No, thanks.

But now, the cursor blinked at her as if daring her to reconsider.

She sighed, leaning back against the worn cushions of the couch in her quaint apartment. The place wasn’t much—hardly bigger than a shoebox—but it was hers. Her space. The one thing she controlled in a life that sometimes felt like it wasn’t really her own.

The sound of her phone buzzing against the coffee table cut through the silence. She didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was.

“Y/N,” her mother’s voice crackled through the speaker when she answered. “We need to talk.”

Here we go again.

Her mother didn’t waste time. “Your father and I have been discussing things. It’s time you stopped fooling around. You’re graduating soon—what are you going to do with all this law nonsense? Where’s the money? Where’s the stability?”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told you, I’m applying to firms. I’m figuring it out—”

Her mother’s sharp laugh cut her off. “Figuring it out? You’re almost twenty-two, Y/N. By this age, your cousins were either married or already contributing to their families. And you? Still playing student. Still living in that… tiny apartment. It’s embarrassing.”

Her father’s voice joined in the background, muffled but unmistakably critical. “Tell her to stop chasing dreams and start being practical. A real job or a real husband. One or the other.”

The familiar knot tightened in Y/N’s stomach. “I’m not having this conversation again,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have a choice,” her mother snapped. “Do you think we can keep helping you forever? The money’s tight as it is. Your brother’s college is coming up, and we need every penny.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. “I never asked for your money,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been supporting myself.”

“For now,” her mother said bitterly. “But how long will that last? Face it, Y/N. You need us more than you think.”

The call ended with her mother muttering something about how ungrateful she was.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, staring at her phone.

By the next morning, the idea of McLaren Ltd. wasn’t just a suggestion anymore—it was the only card left to play.

Y/N hesitated before dialing Logan’s number. The thought of taking this job still didn’t sit right with her. It certainly wasn’t what she wanted. But it was a job, and a damn good one at that, with a reputable company and better yet, an actual paycheck. If she could get her foot in the door, it might buy her the time she needed to figure out what she did want without her parents breathing down her neck.

Before she could psych herself out any further, she pressed the call button.

“Hey, Y/N!” Logan answered, his voice chipper. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Logan,” she said, forcing some brightness into her tone. “Um, about that position you mentioned… at McLaren?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure! Have you thought about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her fingers flicking non-existent dust off the fabric of her pants. “I think… I think I’d like to apply. If the offer’s still open, that is.”

Logan laughed. “Dude, for you? Of course. It’s still open. I told you—you’d be perfect for it. I can help you with the application if you want. I’ll even put in a good word with HR.”

Her chest tightened at his enthusiasm, but she managed a small smile. “Thanks, Logan. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re going to kill it,” he said confidently. 

Logan seemed to believe it enough for the both of them.

As she hung up, she glanced at the email on her laptop again, this time with a mix of determination and resignation. She wasn’t doing this for her parents. Or for Logan, great as he was.

She was doing it because, for once, she needed something to work out—something she could call her own. Even if it wasn’t the perfect fit, it was a start. And maybe, just maybe, it would lead her somewhere she never expected.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Sweet things

@bucktommyfluffebruary - day two prompt ‘cooking together’

Notes: established relationship, domestic fluff, Tommy is too busy staring at his boyfriend to be an effective sous chef | Rating: G | Words: 700

[Read on A03]

——-

“Sorry I’m late!” Tommy calls through the house, “there was an accident, traffic was a nightmare.”

“That’s okay,” a familiar voice calls back. “I had to start without you.” Tommy comes into the kitchen to find Evan whisking a bowl of egg whites. “Need to keep on schedule so it has to bake and cool before we put it together.”

Tommy half remembers the 20 minute run down of why you have to let a meringue cool slowly, something to do with sudden temperature change causing cracks? In his defence he had been half asleep at the time, laid out on the sofa with Evan’s fingers carding through his hair.

Ever since Athena had assigned them the dessert portion of the menu for their barbecue this evening Evan had been spending every spare minute searching for the perfect thing to make. Several internet deep dives, three new recipe books and countless conversations later he had come to the conclusion that a pavlova would be perfect for the job.

“It’s the best of all things.” He had explained one evening, plastered against Tommy’s back while he did the washing up. “It’s crunchy and chewy, sweet but if you choose the right flavour crème, I was thinking passion fruit, then it’s not too sweet. Plus it’s light enough for after a big meal, perfect for a summer barbecue.”

Tommy comes around the kitchen island, rests his hand on Evan’s hip and presses a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“Hope you didn’t do all of my jobs for me. I want to look Hen in the eye and tell her I helped make this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s high on her list of things she doesn’t believe are possible.”

Evan laughs,

“I need you to separate some more eggs, 3 yolks should do and then they need to go on a double boiler-” he shifts out of Tommy grasp, pulling the scales out of a nearby cupboard and measuring sugar into a bowl.

“I thought we were making meringue.”

“We’re making a pavlova, three key components; meringue, crème and fruit.”

“Oh yes of course, how could I forget the three key components.”

Evan pulls a face of mock shock at Tommy’s sarcastic tone.

“How indeed” he reaches up and taps the recipe card taped to the cupboard. “All the instructions are there if you need them.”

Tommy separates the eggs carefully, and puts them in a double boiler on the stove. He is stirring them gently when he feels Evan’s gaze boring into the side of him.

“Can I help you with something?”

Evan waggles his hand in the direction of the drawer Tommy is stood in front of.

“Can you pass me a spoon?”

“Sure.”

He digs one out and gives it to Evan, their fingers brushing over the handle. His gaze lingers on Evan for a moment too long.

“You know you have to stir those constantly right?”

“Mmm?” Truth be told, Tommy is a little less focused on the steaming bowl and more on his gorgeous boyfriend. He feels a bit lost with the way the afternoon sun is catching the lighter tones in Evan’s hair, lifting the golden tones of his skin.

Evan reaches over with the hand not currently occupied whisking egg whites and closes it over Tommy’s wrist, forcing him to stir the mixture.

“If you don’t they will scramble.”

“We can’t have that.” Tommy murmurs softly, still entranced by the way the light makes Evan’s eyes shine, picking up the different shades of blue in his eyes and making them sparkle.

Evan catches Tommy’s eyes and stops for a moment, his trademark frantic cooking energy slowing down as he looks at Tommy. He knows realistically that 24 hours is not a hugely long time to go without seeing someone but the way he feels immediately lighter under Tommy’s gaze makes him realise how much he misses him when he’s at work.

“Sorry,” he mumbles “I didn’t even say hello.”

“That’s okay baby, I know how important the structural integrity of meringues is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.”

Tommy smiles and Evan thinks he may never get tired of seeing it.

Tagging some beloveds (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed);

@leashybebes @livelaughlou @loucifersbitch @dark-alice-lilith @mmso-notlikethat @laundryandtaxesworld @bucksaiga @littlepaws9 @sad-girl-hours23 @evansbuck-ley @jamieroyjamieroy @typicalopposite

@moonydanny @teenmaximoff @bucksboobs @ohithankyou @bi-bi-buckleys @rubydaiquiri @hellion-child @aringofsalt @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @comfortingevanbuckley @epiphainie @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard

@sunnywithachanceofbi @desert--moonchild @blitzynatural @actuallyitsellie @big-urchin-energy @fyrehose @buckleyskinards @owlgirl495 @honeyloulou @setmeatopthepyre @salty-autistic-writer @thecarrott

[snoopychris]

the hardest goodbye

in which... nick, matt, and chris set off for their quest

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of death, chris is an asshole

will solace didn’t mean to eavesdrop. will solace just wanted to tell Dionysus that he was leaving. he just wanted to thank him for the warm welcome and the housing provided for a few days. then he would be on his way. he had never expected to hear about a new prophecy. never in a million years. not when it felt like

percy had just completed his. it was all too familiar to Will. his wide eyes dart around the perimeter of the Big House, keeping an eye out for any lurkers. any sign that somebody else might’ve heard the secret and he wouldn’t have to keep it to himself. will solace had no such luck. not right away. not for a while. especially not since he blacked out.

it takes about ten minutes to pull Will from his blackout. for a moment there, he might as well have been dead. had nico not said that will wasn’t dead, his family would’ve been getting a letter. wherever they were. the porch of the big house was still occupied. you sa comfortably with will and nico, waiting for the door to finally be unlocked to get will some real help. the camps healer couldn’t heal himself. the screen door almost slams against your face when it opens, eliciting a loud yell from your throat. your eyes meet chris’ within seconds.

you had probably locked eyes with chris thousands of times. there had never been a look quite like this. you dart to your feet, eyes moving to the screen door again. dionysus comes out next, followed by nick and matt. matt looks confused. nick looks devasted. Dionysus looks pissed. whatever chris did to piss him off and get nick and matt involved in it all must’ve been bad. dionysus pauses for a moment, noticing there’s three more people on the porch than there should be.

the God slowly turns to face you, will and nico, furrowing his brows for just a moment. it’s enough for the three of you to know that this is bigger than what you had originally thought. your internal panic begins to set in, watching as chris stomps off towards his cabin. the words Dionysus yells towards chris aren’t comprehended in your mind, but you know they’re a sign. a message. a warning. when it clicks for you that he’s telling chris to come back, you do the only thing you’ve perfected over the years and rush to be in front of chris to convince him to listen. 

“cmon turn around” you whisper, the grass beneath your feet crunching quietly. chris shakes his head, letting his gaze meet the floor.. you swallow as you take a few steps towards chris, gripping onto his wrist. “hey” you plead, batting your eyes. “get the fuck off me.” an  exhale leaves your mouth, holding back some tears that had formed. you don’t even remember the last time chris cursed at you. he had cursed with you, but it was never at you. there was something different this time. something was wrong. very wrong. “chris…” “sunny, i said get the fuck off me!” he yells, pushing you flat onto the floor. you gasp at the action, watching as will rushes over to intervene. 

“okay chris that’s enough. you’re upset. don’t take it out on her.” “what fuckin ever. the fuck does it matter what i think. apparently fucking nothing.” “hey! i said. that’s enough.” if chris was your number one defender, will was right behind him at number two. a guy has to defend his first kiss after all. you feel your heart break a bit when chris walks away and leaves you there. he’s never done that before. 

the rest of the day goes by painfully slow. the entire time it feels like someone’s ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it. you hadn’t even done anything wrong. it felt like luke leaving all over again. could you mourn someone who wasn’t dead yet? were you just mourning chris without knowing? you pick and prod at your food for ages, and by the time you even take a bite the dinner period is over. chris had been eying you the whole time from tables away, pouting like a child each time he got no response. the puppy dog eyes that would’ve usually had you in his arms by now weren’t winning. not today. 

“sunny are you gonna eat that breadstick?” nick whispers, pointing towards the garlicky item on your plate. you shake your head as the bread is taken from your plate to nicks, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth when you get dismissed. your feet carry you to your cabin quickly, avoiding anything and everything in your way. you don’t stop to talk to anybody once. you push the door open gently, taking a look around the empty room.

and suddenly you’re 10 years old again. suddenly you’re 10 years old being woken up by chris telling you that you have to go. that this cabin isn’t safe for you right now. you’re the 10 year old who didn’t eat for weeks. you’re the 10 year old who cried for days on end. the 10 year old who had been lied to and destroyed in the process. 

you take a seat on the edge of an empty bed and just sit there. it’s weird, really. most of the time, you’re the most energetic person on the entirety of the camp. the girl everybody looks up to. a role model for so many young campers. your eyes go to a picture frame on the wall. it’s everybody who had been in the Hermes cabin when you were 8. you were there. luke was there. you can feel your heart break into a dozen more pieces when you see him. a deep feeling in your gut is saying that chris is lying to you the same way luke was all those years ago. a sob leaves your lips as you break into the tears you had been holding in, deciding that even if you were the strongest alive, you still needed to cry. the tears don’t last long, but it’s such a relief when you’ve gotten it all out. when you’ve let go all of the pain of years past. 

the knock on your cabin door is weird to you. people don’t typically knock. not here. you stand up slowly, opening it up to see matt on the other side. his face turns to worry upon seeing the puffiness of your eyes, pulling you into a hug without question. no words are even spoken. you’re not typically a hug person, but still, you let it happen, further giving into the emotions you were feeling. yet, you still feel weak. he holds you for a while. you don’t even know how long it’s been by the time he lets you go. “you’re okay… you’re okay sunny.” he whispers, his thumb rubbing over your shoulder. it’s the first time you feel normal in your nineteen years of living. the first time you feel not like a fighter but like a person.

it’s past curfew when you’re tossing and turning. it reminds you of when you were 10. you’ve felt too much like a past version of you too much for your own liking tonight. nicks head peeks over his bunk to look at you, frowning slightly. “you didn’t eat.” he mumbles, doing what’s practically a front flip to get into your bed. you giggle as you scoot over to give him some room, cozying up as much as possible. his body heat is nice. his blonde hair is swayed slightly by the wind, a large smile on his face. he pulls an apple from his pocket, handing it to you carefully. “you okay? y’wanna gossip?” you shrug as you take a bite of the apple, the crunch being heard throughout the cabin. “what’s wrong? you’ve been down all day. did i do something? oh my god is it me? do you hate me is that why you didn’t talk to me at dinner. whatever i did i’m sorry i didn’t mea-“

“nick it isn’t you. i would tell you if you did something wrong.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around your frame. you sigh quietly as you glance out the window, tears brimming your eyes. “he’s never yelled at me like that before.” nick follows your gaze to the window, piecing it together. he hadn’t noticed how codependent you and chris were on each other. he wouldn’t be surprised if chris had only reacted to the quest the way he did because you weren’t there to calm him down. all nick can do in the moment is pull you in for a side hug, kissing the top of your head. 

“go talk to him. i’ll cover for you if anything. go.” nick mumbles, standing up from the bunk to give you space to move. you smile slightly as you take another bite of the half eaten apple in your hands, pushing open the large cabin doors. you’re quick to get to chris’ cabin, not bothering to knock before walking in. he’s laying on his bed the way he usually is, a bouncy ball being thrown to his ceiling. the sounds that it’s making would be annoying you if it was your own cabin, but it was comforting in this once.

“took you long enough.” chris speaks, halting the throwing of his ball. you sigh before tiptoeing your way into his bed, his arms wrapping around you protectively. it’s silent for a few moments. not much is exchanged but both of you know about the tension that’s in the air. you’re both too stubborn to be the first to speak. chris only attempts to fix the situation by kissing all around your face, gently moving down to your neck. you swallow before pushing him away, shaking your head.

“you’re never gonna put your hands on me like that out of training again. i mean it. if it happens again… consider me gone.” it takes a lot for you to say. you’ve never even considered leaving before, but chris understands. he doesn’t say any words, but he continues kissing down your neck and collarbones. you know it’s his way of apologizing. it always has been. you let out a small exhale at his actions, looking down at him. his eyes are brimmed with tears. you don’t know if it’s regret or if there’s something else. you want it to be regret more than anything.

the sun tattoo that he has on his neck peeks out of his shirt. it matches the moon that’s on your ankle. his hair is a mess like he’s been nonstop running his fingers through it. something’s not right. something is extremely wrong. the look on your face is a physical embodiment of a lightbulb going off in your head. groups of three. matt, nick, and chris all walked out of the big house together. “you’re going on a quest…” chris swallows audibly, continuing his kisses down your body. he’s done it numerous times before but this time it’s different. this times it’s not a form of foreplay. it’s nothing that’s meant to be taken sexually or romantically. it’s a goodbye. 

when chris suddenly stops his kisses and breaks into tears on your stomach, your heart shatters again. in an instant, you’re taken back. 

in an instant, you’re the 14 year old girl who lost the only family she had ever had. you’re the 14 year old girl who had been waiting for your big brother to come home. the 14 year old who couldn’t believe the news she was getting. the 14 year old who begged percy jackson to go back and bring luke home. the same 14 year old who lost everything she had was still within you. and she was more alive than ever. 

chris hadnt even left the campgrounds yet and he was already saying goodbye to you. you hold back a sob as to not egg chris on, rubbing his head gently. “it’s okay. it’s okay.. you’re gonna be fine. you’ve been training for this your entire life. you know you’re gonna make it back. if percy made it-“

“i’m not percy. and he… he had annabeth there with him and you’re gonna have to stay behind and i’m gonna be with two idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” you can tell that chris is genuinely scared, but you don’t know how to react to something like this. you had never said goodbye to your best friend. all you can do is giggle quietly. 

“nick… survived five years on the streets on his  own. he knows how to pickpocket. he knows his way around manhattan and probably any big city you put him in. matt is ares’ son. it’ll all come naturally to him when it comes to. you’re gonna be just fine. i promise. i’ll be here waiting for you when you come back.” you whisper, pressing a long kiss to his lips. he relaxing against you, slipping his hand underneath the waistband of your sweats. 

“gimme a parting gift?” he whispers, looking deep into your eye. you nod slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to you. you giggle quietly, nodding as you tangle your fingers into his hair. 

“i think that can be arranged.” 

the next morning came in what could only be described as the blink of an eye. you had never spent such a short nice with chris before. you didn’t even want to get up. it was too painful. there was too much to lose. it was excruciating. you only slip out of the much too familiar bed when you can’t bear the pain any longer. it’s early enough for you to be one of the only ones awake, but not early enough for there to be no food ready. your head and stomach tell you to gravitate towards the smell of bacon that’s hitting your nostrils. something in your heart and the deep pit of your gut is leading you in the opposite direction. 

matt hadn’t gotten more than a few collective hours of sleep in the past few days. since his arrival, hes just felt overall uncomfortable. the bed is smaller than he’s used to, the mattress— if you could even call it that— was bumpy and hard, and this place just wasn’t home. he had never been more grateful for some sort of relief. some sort of way to take his anger out. he had always been enrolled in sports, starting with football when he was young. his parents had always given him the output that the training facility was giving him right now. the crunching behind him catches his attention, turning from the axe throwing target in front of him to look at you. he sends a small smile before he throws his final axe, letting out an exhale when he gets a bullseye. 

“hey sunny” he runs one of his hands through his hair, and you hate to admit that you’re jealous of it. it looks so soft and cared for. you’ve never had that. chris hasn’t either. chris hasn’t had anything real. nothing really real. only artificial gifts from the Gods and other stuff campers have managed to bring in. 

“heard about your quest” your words are blunt, but there’s not enough time to beat around the bush. you take a seat on a nearby tree stump, zipping up the hoodie you had stolen from chris. matt simply nods, licking his lips as he takes a seat next to you. he sets a hand on your knee, giving it a small grip before looking down at the floor. if chris was scared, you couldn’t imagine how matt felt. he had no where near as much experience with this stuff as chris. 

“it shouldn’t be that bad right? i mean i did it for 20 years… keeping monsters away.” matt snickers quietly, a breath hitching in his throat. “but you’re not here for me. what’s up? you okay? wanna take my place?” you swallow at his words, shaking your head slightly. you almost feel bad asking. selfish almost.

“i need you to keep an eye on him for me. he’s never been out of this place for long. the longest we’ve ever been gone was one day trip to new york and even then we were supervised. he doesn’t know what it’s like to go to a grocery story or what it’s like to drive a car. to be quite honest with you he was freaking out about being the only one to know anything. but… the reality of the situation is that you know more about that place than he does. all he knows is monsters and fighting and… i worry for him. he’s all i have.” there’s a brief moment of silence, but you feel the sparks again. right there on your knee where matt’s hand is placed. matt feels it too. you know he does based on the way he flinches. 

“i’ll take care of him. if we’re asking favors… do you have like a backpack or something i can use?” his question makes you laugh, but you nod regardless. he can’t have been mad at you for asking if he was cracking jokes.

“i’m sure i have something yeah. i’ll set you up and get you ready to go.”  matt smiles at your words, pulling you in for a side hug. it’s a goodbye in the same way that chris had said goodbye to you earlier in the night. this one isn’t as heartbreaking, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel even just a little bit similar.

it doesn’t take very long for you to get everything ready. at some point throughout the night, chris had told you they were leaving before dinner. you had been restless all day. a shaky sigh leaves the depths of your throat as you set three bags on your bed before handing one to chris, one to nick, and one to matt. will is sitting on the top bunk of an empty bed in your cabin, watching the interaction go down. more than anything, he’s there for emotional support. you’re practically sending your “best friend” off to a suicide mission. 

“okay… you guys are all set. chris’ bag has all of the medical equipment you guys might need. he also has swords and other weapons in there. don’t lose that bag. i’m serious. nick, your bag has the food, the water, the money. you have both human money and drachmas. you’ll survive without it. matt. your bag has spare clothes. shirts, jackets, hats anything you might need. there’s an old pair of converse in there that i found under a bed if if comes to that.” your words are more tears than cohesive sentences, the pout on your lip more evident than anybody in the room had ever seen. you glance at will for an out, practically collapsing into chris’ arms when will takes over for you. in a swift movement, he jumps off the bed, taking your place. 

“okay… um. i’ve never sent someone off before. the quest has a time limit of a month. not because something tragic will happen in a month but that’s just… the longest amount of time we can give you… or something. i don’t know. i don’t make the rules. wish i did. quests are taken in three. so that’s one, two, three of you. the issue is… we don’t exactly know what’s going on here. we don’t know what it all means or… anything. Dionysus said make it to California and back and that should.. hopefully be enough i don’t know.” Will sighs as he looks between the triplets, pulling matt in for a small hug. he follows suit by pulling Nick in for a hug, one that lingers for a little bit too long. at least, chris thinks it’s longer than usual. Chris notices the way that will is about to pull him in for a hug, but is unable to with you still clinging to his chest like hes your lifeline. he is your lifeline. will sighs quietly as he tugs you away from chris, pulling you into his own arms. “be careful out there man.” will whispers, eyeing chris intently. chris nods as he looks down at you, pursing his lips. 

“take care of her for me okay? you’re the only other one here who i trust.” will nods at chris’ request, waving the triplets off with his hand. your tears only pour out more into wills tshirt. your world around you was practically collapsing. it was terrible. the last time something like this has happened, you didn’t say goodbye. you didn’t get the chance to. maybe it was better that way. maybe it’s what needed to happen.

“sunny i know now’s probably not a good time… but Dionysus said he needed to see you.” wills words hit like a dagger, making you whine quietly into his chest. you sigh as you pull away from him, wiping tears away from your eyes. they’re puffy as if you’d been crying for hours. mourning for hours. in reality you’ve been mourning for years. your walk is painfully slow, pushing past every camper who tries to get your attention. for the most part, nobody meets your gaze or even attempts to talk to you. you open the doors to the office, eyes avoiding the God sitting before you.

“you say bye to chris?” Dionysus asks. you nod slowly as you glance around the room, desperate for a distraction. “good. he’s a good kid. smart too. gave me a whole list of reasons he shouldn’t go and he should stay. didn’t work. anyway that’s not the point here. i left something of mine in a casino in Los Angeles. I need you to get it for me. go on.” he speaks, waving you off. your eyes furrow at his request, shaking your head in disbelief.

“but… i can’t… how am i supposed to get to a casino in los angeles by myself? do you even hear yourself? you’re putting my life at ris-“

“and you’re my best fighter and the only person left here who i trust. go on. hitch a ride with the other three. scram.” your eyes widen slightly at his words, and there’s an audible gulp in the room. it’s not a quest after all. it’s just a task. you’re going just for fun. you chuckle as you eye the door, biting your bottom lip. Dionysus knows you’re about to ask for something, looking towards the corner. “backpack full of supplies for you right over there. see you in a few weeks okay kid?” you nod rapidly at his words, grabbing the bag as you run out the door and towards the exit of the only home you had ever known. it makes you smile when matt, nick, and chris have barely gotten anywhere, simply arguing in front of the camp’s entrance. matt’s the first one to turn to you, letting out a small chuckle as he sees you. 

“following your boyfriend, sunny?” matt jokes, pointing out to the scattered hickies on chris’ neck. you shake your head as you adjust your backpack strap on your shoulder, pursing your lips. 

“mind if i ride with you guys?”

a/n: the sunnymatt vs sunnychris arguments will only get worse from here trust! also if you havent heard i do now have an instagram for this acc, its snoopyxchris if ur interested in following

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[oh-stars]

Recognition

Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1257 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

“What time will you be home?” Eddie asks, perched on the couch like a bird, elbows on his  knees and sitting on his heels, toes straining under his weight. He feels like a little gremlin, body needing a way to expel all the energy his boring day off built up while Steve’s been at work. 

Steve sighs and adjusts his tie in the mirror by the door. “If all goes well, eight?” 

Eddie groans and falls back, limbs flailing. “If they expect you to go to school after hours, they should at least pay you,” he says, face squished into the fabric. It’s miserable being on different schedules. He’s been working at the plant until the construction is done on his shop, which means weird hours and being completely off rhythm with Steve. He barely sees the man! 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Steve huffs as he smooths down his shirt, walking towards him. He carefully bends over to kiss Eddie’s pouting lips, laughing at him. God, Eddie’s so glad this man is his. He’s too precious to let go. “I’d stay if I could,” Steve says softly. “You know I hate going to these things.” 

Eddie sighs, giving him a small smile as he touches up the few strands of Steve’s hair that were betrayed by his hairspray. “I know,” he says. “I could always come with you.” 

Steve shakes his head, cheeks pink. “Thank you, but you, uh, really don’t want to go to a boring PTA meeting. All they’re going to do is fight over which classroom should get the crayons.” 

“I’d go for you, Steve,” Eddie says. He sighs again and pushes Steve away. “Go so you can get back.” 

“I love you,” Steve says, stealing another kiss before he finally stands up. 

“Love you too,” Eddie says, smashing his face back into the couch. “I’ll be here, rotting away until you return, my sweet knight.” 

Steve shakes his head and grabs his wallet and keys off the coffee table. Then he’s gone, with the rumble of the Beemer and the faint sounds of David Bowie announcing his departure. 

Eddie lasts a whole three minutes before he’s shooting up off the couch and pacing around the living room as he thinks of something he could do to occupy his time. He’s done about as much housework as he could manage for the day, he doesn’t think he could practice anymore today or write at all with how depleted his creative juices feel, and he knows nothing good comes on TV on Tuesdays in early January. 

That’s how he ends up piddling about Steve’s desk. Steve keeps all his papers that need to be graded meticulously organized, with the ones that are fair game for anyone to grade (aka the ones with scoresheets) in the blue folder. On days where Eddie’s brain was too much, when he couldn’t even look at his guitar without feeling pain or pick up his pencil to be creative in any fashion, he needed something to do to get the excess brain energy out. Robin’s much the same way, so Steve started setting aside his pop quizzes and multiple choice tests in the blue folder for either of them to grade if they needed. Otherwise, he’d get to it eventually. It’s mindless enough to calm their brains, they feel good helping Steve, and it helps give Steve more time to focus on the essays and presentations that need more time to be graded. It’s a win win all the way around. 

The blue folder isn’t as full as normal, but there are a few worksheets Eddie can take care of for Steve. He reaches for the sticker book and the purple pen (Steve’s signature grading color) in the mug Wayne gave him that’s an apple with a little worm for a handle that he uses as a pencil cup. That’s when he sees the PTA flyer. It’s jam-packed with information and minutes from the last meeting, but in big, bold letters at the bottom of the flyer, Eddie reads:

Join us to honor this year’s Teacher of the Year, Mr. Steve Harrington, eighth grade English. 

Eddie puts down the blue folder, the pen, and the flyer. He’s still for exactly one minute before his body goes into flight or fight mode. Within ten minutes, he’s dressed in his nice date clothes and his hair is tamed back into a tight bun, threatening to snap the band. 

Time crunch or not, he drives like a bat out of hell. He has plenty of time to get to the school, they live close enough, but he needs to make a few stops first. All in all, he gets there right as the principal is starting the meeting. 

He tucks himself in a corner in the back, watching the whole thing patiently. The problem is, he can’t really see Steve. Eddie cranes his neck and bounces on his toes, trying to find a way to make it to one of the seats in the center of the auditorium, closer to the stage. 

His opening comes after the chorus does a performance, when the parents at the front scurry their students away before the meeting can continue. First off, rude, but it works in Eddie’s favor. Steve’s award is next and Eddie isn’t missing this. 

Eddie slips into the front row as the principal starts shifting gears, whispering to the vice principal as the crowd settles. 

She announces Steve to a polite applause, but that’s just not good enough for his Steve. 

His palms ache with how hard he’s clapping, just shy of letting out a loud ‘whoop’ – and he’d do it if it wasn’t for the pretty way Steve’s face and ears are pinkening up. Their eyes meet as Eddie beams. 

“Hi,” he mouths, trying so hard to not vibrate out of the seat. 

Steve’s smile softens as he gives a wave of appreciation to the crowd, eyes darting back to Eddie. As the principal sings Steve’s praise and when she hands over the microphone for Steve to say a few words, Steve’s eyes never leave Eddie’s. It isn’t until a few of his students get up to speak that Steve finally looks toward the speaker, his shy smile turning into one of pride. Eddie knows he could care less about the words themselves (it’ll be later tonight that Steve will have a crisis and finally let the kind words sink in, where he’ll cower into Eddie’s body and panic over how much these kids trust him), but rather seeing how brave his kids are for speaking to a crowd this big and doing it so well. 

The award is the last part of the meeting, so after another round of applause, everyone is dismissed. Eddie jumps up to meet Steve at the bottom of the stage. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Steve says as he jumps down. 

“I wanted to,” Eddie says. “I’m proud of you,” he adds as he bumps their shoulders together. 

“I’m just doing my job–”

“Stop,” Eddie says kindly, “you deserve this.” He grabs Steve’s hand and gently tugs him toward the exit. “C’mon, I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate.”

“What about my car?” 

“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”

Steve’s blush is even stronger up close, but he doesn’t fight Eddie. And it’s an absolute privilege to watch as Steve gets all shy again when Eddie presents him with flowers once they’re at the van, stammering his thanks as Eddie kisses his cheek swiftly. 

--

Ao3 Link

Thank you @lady-lostmind 💜

[tinyidle]

Need More - CJH

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: in which you and your boyfriend engage in some casual sex during your chuseok vacation time

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: jongho x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: slice of life, slight fluff, smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: established relationship, free use

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.3k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: free use, consensual perversion, implied sensual touches, kisses, implied groping, mutual masturbation, implied fellatios, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, slightly casual sex (they are both protected, like you should) fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature, mdni ofc

𝘈/𝘕: i was debating on whether my next atz fic should be a request i got a long time go or this one thought ive had for a while. because it's jongho, and i haven't written about him yet this year, ill do this first. my inspo was that ISFP video he made. 4th submission to @wonderlandnet. taglist person @strayteezsimp.

it's day 3 of vacationing, and jongho's decided to take a break from all those adventures he's had the past couple days while out on chuseok leave. this meant going to sleep for a good while, and then doing whatever he wanted. with you of course.

by the time the second day rolled around, you asked to stick around a bit at night after he went out, and of course jongho obliged. he loved when you'd come to his dorm to simply hang out, especially when that would seldom happened to each of your busy schedules. despite you doing your own things during the day, the night just seemed like a perfect time to check and spend some time with your boyfriend.

on this day, the only difference was that you stayed in the night before, allowing you and jongho to sleep in together. he woke up and lazily smiled while seeing you sounding snoozing in front of him. carefully stroking your hair, you wake up and smile back at him.

"hey jonghie," you greet him.

jongho trails his hand from your head to your warm cheek, "hey, baby."

you sigh in content as he continues to caress your face. "jongho?" he hums. "i want you to use me all day today."

his hand froze. "you sure, sweetie? i dont want to make you uncomfortable." jongho rested his hand on your cheek while staring into the warmth of your eyes as he got slightly excited down there.

you sleepily shake your head, "i know you won't do anything to hurt me, jongho. if anything just double-check if you think im not in the mood, okay?"

he hesitated, realizing you mean this. then he smiled again, nodding his head as he happily obliged. "anything for you, sweetie," he answered, moving forward to give the cheek he was touching a soft kiss before you both dozed off again.

--

waking up two hours later, you both woke up and started your day like normal. it was 10 am- not too late, but later than normal for you. as you were getting in the shower, you felt the heavy presence of your boyfriend before he embraced you in his arms. you starting to laugh once you felt the wet and swinging of his length on your thigh.

"how are you already horny?" you asked, hand going behind you to ease the tension he had in between his legs.

jongho groaned as you stroked him steadily. "i can never get enough of you, love." his hand reached over to allow the water to run and heat up, before expertly slotting itself where you were currently drenched. you gasped, making him chuckle. "i especially cant enough of your noises when i barely touch you."

you wanted to retort, but all that came out were moans of satisfaction and want for him to keep going. you used your other hand to turn the shower head on to full blast while your occupied hand was gathering more and more precum from your boyfriend. he in response had three thick fingers sliding in and out of you, holding your waist in order to keep your balance.

you squealed when the middle of his fingers hit your g spot. "fuck, jongho im gonna cum," you warned. to give a clue as to how close you were, you swiped the slit of his tip multiple times- a trick you learned when you wanted him to release.

it worked, as the man groaned and targeted you spot even more. you whined louder as his panting grew even more shallow. with a low and almost desperate voice, he commanded, "cum for me, baby."

you instantly lost control and gave in to your need for orgasm. jongho came soon after as you felt his seed dripping down your leg. he sighed as his fingers slowed down, and you soon let go of his slightly softer cock.

he needed more of you later, for sure.

--

lunchtime came and went, and you both had local takeout from a lovely restaurant from nearby. after 2, when everything was supposed to be digested, you decided to catch up on some TV shows you missed from being busy at work all the time. at first you sat on he couch, but then felt the need to get a simple snack.

in the middle of getting your treat, you decided to continue the current episode of what you were watching on the kitchen area. not only were you so comfortable leaning over and standing to look down at your phone that you forgot what you were in there for, you were so distracted that it took a wet muscle to knock you out of your episode-filled daze.

you gasped as you held onto the edge of the countertop. "jongho!" you wanted to sound like you were reprimanding him, but his tongue on your clit was keeping you from speaking. "ss-shit," you could only say, arms shaking as your hips had a mind of its own onto his more-than-ready mouth.

"mmmh," the man moaned, right into your aching center. jongho help your hips to his face, circling his tongue on your hole before teasingly pushing it in, causing you to snap. you came with a soft sob, hips jerking ever so often when your boyfriend would tantalizingly, lick at your sensitive clit.

you help him out with a blowjob, and he thanked you for it as you swallowed him clean. but he needed more of you again.

--

you both had to go out and catch up with friends for a group outing. once that was done and you two headed home, jongho ripped your clothes off and proceeded to fuck your brains out. now you were truly spent, but jongho needed more.

an hour into you being knocked out from having arguably one of the best nights of your life, you were woken up by kisses to your shoulder and fondling of your breasts. you were turned on, no doubt, but you nether regions couldn't take anymore. breathing in enough air to whisper, you said, "baby, i cant go anymore. my pussy's too spent."

sensing the respectful disappoint in him, you were going to turn around and give him another blowjob as a 'truce', until you heard him, say, "let me fuck your thighs."

this was new. how does he even know it'd be something he'd like? nonetheless, you agreed. "okay. just dont slip it in unless i get desperate, okay?" you heard a hum of understanding, prompting you to open up your legs for him.

the friction was incredible. despite you widening your legs a good bit to allow himself to slot, somehow was still a tight fit. in between your thighs. "oh my fucking-" jongho stuttered as you shuddered from how your boyfriend's thick girth was prompting you to open your thighs some more. somehow wanting to still sleep, you tried clenching your legs in and hope the constant ooze of jongho's cock would slick you up. unsurprisingly it wasn't just his juices that would make you slippery, as your slick was making your thighs a mess.

you panted and whined as the head of boyfriend's cock repeatedly nudged unto your clit, burning in the most pleasurable way. you couldn't take it anymore. "jjong, please cum in me. i need you again."

swallowing down the bit of pride that was trying to bubble up in his throat, jongho opened your leg wide before pushing his head in your sopping cunt. making you hiss and groan from the stretch you could never get tired of. "you can't get over me, neither," he replied before thrusting a couple more times, shooting himself deep inside of you for the last time tonight. he returned the favor by rubbing your clit while he was still inside until you cam hard around him, milking him for all he's worth.

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 7

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

hi part 7... picking up right where we left off... i think I'm going to post a masterlist & keep it linked on my pinned to make it easier to sift through and find, esp since i do plan on posting other fics once i finished my very first >.< also i want to post the songs i listen to while I'm writing and some visuals hehe... just to make it much more immersive. again i do not own these characters and they are not mine! (except my mc i guess) like comment reblog if ya like... enjoy! about 1785 words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

We’re standing on a sand-colored platform of a structure currently being renovated or changed to fit Fire Nation standards. The usual for when they occupy lands that don’t belong to them. Aangs in front of me, with Sokka to my left and Katara to my right. We form a triangle and I'm thankful for the partial covering.

I’m thinking of the best way to summarize the threats ahead of us, just in case they try to change the plan. There’s a good chance this will go south.

“Mai, in the center, has good aim with her blades, but it’s Ty Lee, on the left, you should keep an eye out for.” I try to give my friends the run-down on my, I guess, old friends one would say. But we’ve only got so much time before all three of them realize that I’m here.  

They lower King Bumi from the top of the building using a metal crane. They’ve got him in a coffin-shaped cage with only his head showing.

“You brought my brother?” Mai speaks first, breaking the silence between the two groups. She squints at the sight of me, but I’m too far away for her to be sure it’s me.

“He’s here.” Aang solemnly replies. “We’re ready to trade.” In these moments, he’s got the grace of a 112-year-old.

Suddenly, Azula speaks to Mai in a hushed tone we can’t quite hear. Fine is never fine with Azula, nothing is ever the way it should be with her. There’s bound to be some trick up her sleeve that only feeds into her misery.

“I’ll help with the girl on the right, she’s the most vicious,” I warn them. I briefly make eye contact with Sokka. We haven’t talked about what was said and now wasn’t the time, but I couldn’t help but yearn for his gentleness. A reminder that I wasn’t like the enemies in front of us, but someone new. Someone he couldn’t hate.

Then, Mai steps forward. “The deal’s off.” With a lift of her gloved hand, King Bumi is raised once again by the crane.

“Bumi!” Aang cries out for his old friend and starts heading towards him, defying the laws of gravity bestowed upon the rest of us. It’s enchanting to see an air-bender. It’s so different from the rest of the elements. He looks like he’s flying.

As he does so, Azula strikes, and I see her blue flame for the first time. She must’ve perfected her oxygen levels for complete combustion; but if she’s the Azula I’ve always known, I know how to beat her. This time, I won’t go easy. I won’t make that same mistake again for nostalgia.

Aang’s head covering flies away as the air moves around him and his arrow is exposed.

I look down at Azula’s reaction and she’s close enough now to hear.

“The Avatar. My lucky day.” The princess smirks, re-organizing her plans for Omashu in her head.

“Remember, don’t let Ty Lee touch you!” I warn Sokka and Katara and dash toward Azula, offering Aang some support against the crazed fire-bender.

I follow her upward, burning the knot on the pulley to cause the rope to lift.

Azula can see me through the grids as the ropes pull us to the top of the building, and I can see her in real-time realize who I am.

“Well, if it isn’t the Royal traitor. Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.” She gloats.

“Leave the Avatar alone, Azula. I mean it!” We break through the ceiling made from wood and reach the roof of the building under construction.

She attacks Aang with a blue blast, causing him to break the metal chain. Aang instantly heads downward with King Bumi. He cushions their fall with an air bubble, and they land on the well-known ramps of Omashu. Azula quickly follows them using a cart, and I’m on her tail. If only I had Sokka’s boomerang right now, it makes so much sense to carry one in these situations.

We catch up to Aang, giving Azula the chance to strike him and Bumi.

I distract her with my own fire-blasts, making sure to lean forward and crash into her cart.

“Out of practice?” She questions.

“Out of patience.” I growl, punctuating my sentence with a blast from my right hand.

As we continue our fight by speeding through the ramps, I see Appa in the distance. Relief washes over me as I conclude Sokka and Katara must have gotten away from Mai and Ty Lee.

Aang attempts to lift Bumi onto Appa’s saddle with his bending, but he miscalculates and Bumi’s off to land on the ground. But his friend won’t let him go on his own. Together, they land on another ramp and head down to ground-level.

Azula’s right behind them, and I’m right behind her.

She attempts another attack, but a rock blocks her offense and bursts her cart into dust. I leap off mine before the impact breaks my cart too and we both land on our feet, an homage to our identical upbringing.

She lets Aang go for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on until she turns around to face me. We're still standing on the ramps.

“The key to never losing is knowing when you’re beat.” She says with her hands in defense, signaling that she’s waving the white flag.

I’m still in fight mode. I’d never let my guard down around her, not now, not ever. “You’ll always be beat as long as I’m here.”

She pauses to truly grasp my presence. It’s been three years since we’ve seen each other, and everything’s changed. We used to be on the same team, never friends but bonded by our birthplace. It’s the first time we no longer owe each other pleasantries. Azula, however, uses sweetness as a weapon. “Where have you been, Y/N? You’re missed at the Royal Palace.”

“I doubt it.” Zuko and his mother haven’t touched that home in years, making it impossible for anyone there to actually miss me.

“Your father misses you.”

“I know you’re lying, Azula.”

“You’ve never trusted me; I’ve never liked you. Now we don’t have to pretend do we?”

“Leave us alone,” I get in my fight stance. “Got it?”

“Fine. Loud and clear.” She dashes away in her infamous run toward the unfinished building, probably to catch up with her friends.

Fine isn’t fine. It’s I’ll get you somehow. I think to myself.

I watch her figure fade into the distance, when it hits me: “Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.”

Did Zuko abandon his ship?

Is she lying? She would have no reason to lie about something like that, other than to get to me or Aang. I can’t pinpoint a motive. I still won’t believe her 100 percent, but I’ll keep it in my back pocket.

I slide down the ramp Aang took and find the both of them at the very end, standing on a platform in another unfinished building. Once I’m off and my two feet hit the floor, Bumi bends rock to lift his metal enclosure up the ramp in a fit of laughter.

We both watch him go. “Your friend is very… eccentric.” I tell Aang, as he’s standing with Momo on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” I turn to face him, something’s wrong. He’s disappointed.

“He’s not going to teach you earth-bending?” I assume.

“No, he has to stay here to protect Omashu. I guess I got to find another teacher.” Now, he looks like a twelve-year-old boy with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. There’s no way he’s meant to do this alone. I’d rather be here helping him than with Zuko.

“We’ll find one in no-time.” I reassure him.

“Who were those three girls?” He changes the subject.

“They were old friends too. Azula is Zuko’s sister.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” I sit on the edge of the platform, waiting for our ride with my feet dangling. Aang sits next to me, and for now, we’re just two kids talking, staring at the beautiful Earth Kingdom in front of us.

“What was it like… to grow up with them?”

“It was easy with Zuko. Azula… not so much.” I wince.

Aang’s face contorts, as if he’s remembering a distant memory. “Was Zuko good? Yaknow, back then?”

A smile creeps up on my face. “He was.”

“Do you think he still could be?”

Aang and I stare at each other. We’re choosing to live in the moment before my answer. The moment in which the possibility of Zuko changing his mind, realizing his mistakes, and helping us stop his father exists.  

“I don’t know.”

☆

The heat and the prickly bushes are upsetting him further with each and every single step. Looking for food when you’re used to someone cooking for you is daunting, Zuko realizes. How is he ever supposed to live like this? How did Y/N?

As he’s walking back to let Uncle know he couldn’t find anything edible, he touches the side of his hair. It’s grown back a bit since cutting it, slicing off his ties to the Fire Nation. Trading in the red for green, hoping to camouflage with the land and the Earth Kingdom people.

What a stupid idea, he thought. How could anyone ever confuse him with anyone else with the scar on his left eye?

But it seemed to be working so far. His sister hadn’t found them, and they haven’t been arrested for their crimes against every other nation.

In the humid morning, on his long walk back to where his uncle was staring at a tea leaf, he thought about the Northern Water Tribe.

He wondered if Y/N was okay from his strike. Maybe the water-bender girl could heal her, and she’d be okay again. He didn’t mean to. He’s been this hard and heavy with everyone else for the sole purpose of returning home, he forgot Y/N was his home. He’s been in fighting mode for so long, he’s forgotten to turn it off.

She wasn’t home, though. She was with the Avatar. Defending him and betraying her nation. How did she get there? He wondered. He had so many questions about everything. Zuko’s sure she had just as many questions for him.

Could he find her now that he was labeled a traitor?

Where his mind led made his empty stomach drop.

If he found her, he’d find the Avatar. Then, he could go home. But if Y/N was not there, would he still want to go back? Did his father’s acceptance matter above all else? It didn’t for Y/N, but she was always braver than him.

Zuko wasn’t ready for that thought, so he pushed it away.

It wasn’t hard to do when your stomach was louder than your thoughts.

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

tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02

[remyrockstheworld]

I really am mourning the lack of a fem protag for persona 5

Like, I honestly think Persona 4 was okay without one. Obviously it would have been great, but Chie was such a strong female presence that she really carried it on her back. I really think she's the series model for the close female companion role in these games (Like Ann or Yukari). So she really quenches my need for a super leading femme. (I will ABSOLUTELY elaborate in another post.)

But in P5? Yeah not enough. I get that it is so much more work and occupies an extreme amount of time and labor to edit the storyline to align with a polar opposite genderbend character, but its not FAIR. Its truly undermined how "for the girls" P5 is.

With all the weird slightly misogynistic messaging that is present in the persona games, and even just japanese media (especially that of which is popularized in america), a good series that people want to stick to HINGES on strong female storylines and characters, ones that highlight strength and don't downplay and belittle the girls that suffer for it, because if you're gonna be kinda sexist, you need to make up for it and depict it as societal critism as opposed to glorified behaviours.

For instance, in P3, there's a scene where Junpei insists on picking up girls at the beach. He basically forces Akihiko, and if you're Makoto, he forces you too. The three of you get fucking WRECKED the entire time. Two of the girls snap at you to leave them alone, and when Junpei keeps engaging, one of them plays into it a bit out of pity. Her friend gets on her ass for being too nice, and tells her to proceed with ignoring them. You get shut down again and again, and the game just knocks down Junpei's pervy behavior REPEATEDLY.

As the Female protag, the entire game, you have the option to join Yukari in getting on Junpei's ass everytime he says something gross. As the only two outgoing girls who are willing to rebuke his shitty behavior, you are able to defend Fuuka time and time again when she gets uncomfortable. But as the male protag, while you can occasionally rebuke his pervy BS, Yukari takes the brunt of the job, because the only way you can consistently turn his shit down is by expressing indifference. Its made apparently clear that they need help keeping him under control.

Now think about whenever something weird happens to Ann. Mona spends the entire game falling over his own ass for her, Yusuke creeps her the fuck out and she's left alone to commence the mission by offering to be his nude model (it ends up being that he has zero interest in her and just thinks she'd be a good model, but still), and more. Akira defends her occasionally. But you cannot in confidence tell me that if there was a polar opposite femme joker, she wouldn't have shut that shit down the way Kotone does to Junpei. Yuka and Ann need the extra help because its really just them ultimately.

(Chie will sooner beat the shit out of yosuke to defend the girls around them, and therefore needs the help less)

And thats not even just it. Even if they didn't need the help. With all of these fierce female backstories-

(Yukari grappling with guilt because of her dad, Ann's SA trauma, Futaba's survivors guilt, Fuuka's parental pressure and path to being a burnt out gifted kid, etc)

-where they never stop overcoming their past for the betterment of everyone else, they need a strong support system. You can feel the difference in energy when Kotone is leading the team, putting herself aside to boost up the girls and showing the guys who's boss. It's written to show how that benefits the other girls. Think about how much more EMPOWERED Ann, Sumire, Makoto, and Futaba would be if they had a femme joker to lead and support them. And how many more wholesome interactions. I mean Futaba should totally have a really good female role model. And so should Sumire on that note.

It just feels like where they tried to give Joker at least a few moments of supporting the girls, it didn't hit the same as it would if he had a femC counterpart.

Let's do better.

[sheridansunrise]

I am back for part two of my chaotic notes about Sheridan that I made with the intention of trying to understand what it is that makes him my favourite character of all time! I wrote a similar amount of words about him in season two and season three, but season three contained far less in-depth analysis because I had covered a lot of things already and so it spiralled more into talking about specific instances in a bit of a different, less in-depth way. And out of those instances, I have picked out, hopefully, the most entertaining of my notes.

I didn’t write these with the intention of sharing them, I just thought it would be fun to do, but now I am sharing some of them so please do forgive any accidental paraphrasing of quotes (I’m not sure if there is any or not, but just in case). Also, there are a few words that I use in both their positive and negative meaning so I can only hope that the context makes it clear enough XD

Right, enough of me rambling, here are the season three notes <3

———————————————————————

Okay don’t say shadows and zoom in on Sheridan’s face, that is a personal attack 🥲

Appears coolly out of a lift

*angrily unbuttons shirt* “you satisfied?” 🤌

Imagine calling THE John J. Sheridan a coward 🤡

Saying that Sheridan basically is nothing without his guards/a gun may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. John Sheridan has been in more life and death situations than this man has had hot dinners

ASSASSIN STYLE SMILE. OH HE’S NOT GOING TO SIT THERE AND BE CALLED A COWARD - THOUGH HE IS ALSO SECURE ENOUGH IN HIS MASCULINITY THAT IT HASN’T AFFECTED HIM (🤌). HE IS JUST GOING TO SHOW THEM WHO THE HELL IS IN CHARGE. FUCK YES.

Literally looks down on him somehow even though this guy is slightly taller?????? Like the power Captain Sheridan holds I—

oh to play chess with John Sheridan

*Shocked pikachu face* — it’s okay honey bun, you’re still good at chess!!!

I can’t describe that smile but it says a thousand words and most of them are expletives

You can literally see his angry breathing via a shot of his back 🤌

Also lol as if Sheridan would put his career over standing up for what’s right smh, you will never know what he’s really like 😌

he is. So. Cool.

The fact this woman is like “I think I could come to like you… quite a lot” as if John Sheridan has any interest in bigoted arseholes 🥱

Okay wait he’s actually got the perfect ASMR voice

AY- NO- YOU ARE NOT ON FIRST NAME TERMS WITH CAPTAIN SHERIDAN, YOU LITTLE BIGOT.

He is, let’s say it again for the people in the back, SMART.

“It’s sedition, disloyalty—“ “It’s an opinion.” 🤌🤌🤌🤌 fuck yes

“There is a difference between the position and the person who is currently occupying it at the moment” King shit right there

“If this happens again, you call me” everyone, I give you Captain Sheridan. Literally always working because he is in command of the 5-mile-long space station Babylon 5, which houses, may I remind you, a quarter of a million people… and yet he will come running if random store owner #324 is spoken down to.

“are you sure of that, Mr Bester?” If Sheridan looked at me like that I think I would 1). Burst into tears 2). Vomit 3). Beg for forgiveness for no less than 200 years

3 scenes. That’s all we got 🥴 like come on guys, Sheridan is so close to Z’ha’dum now, give me more scenes before his life changes forever 😫

No because Delenn looks sad/worried and Sheridan NOTICES. Like he fully mentally notes that, as if he wants to comfort her right then and there. Their love is beautiful 🤧

“I need to think about this for a while… alone. I’ll let you know when I have something to say.” *everyone stands up* “Delenn, stay.” *the softest smile ever* “I’m gonna need you for this” I PHYSICALLY CANNOT COPE. Essentially: everyone leave… but not you, never you. DECEASED.

He keeps looking at Delenn as if he is a mere mortal in the presence of a literal god, as he should 🤌

Poor boy has not slept for 20 hours

“I will watch and catch you if you should fall” “okay 😊” they are so cute I’m going to vomit

Sheridan trying to find a logical way to solve everything, duh 👑

“It’s funny I… I wish Delenn were here” someone call the police, I think my ship is trying to kill me by being TOO DAMN CUTE 😭

You doubted him? This is John Sheridan we’re talking about, of course he found a loophole 😘

Another sleepless night for Sheridan, let my boy REST for the love of god

“As much as our humanity got us into it, our humanity is the only thing that is going to get us out of it again” SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK 👏

“John, I can’t imagine the kind of decisions that are going through your mind right now, I’m sure they’re not easy. The important ones never are. But when push comes to shove you’ve always done the right thing” Thank you, David Sheridan, I think you just summed up why your son is my favourite character 🤝

“Only one human captain has ever survived battle with a Minbari fleet… he is behind me.” Delenn applauding Sheridan’s strength while simultaneously saving him from his own people? My serotonin is now at peak levels 🤌

“Seeing your face at that moment was probably the single finest moment of my life” when ur ship is so cute you have no choice but to give them a standing ovation

Okay hun, listen, I understand you are doing the right thing and doing the rounds, reassuring people and all that, but if you keep going out on your own without protection you may give me a heart attack 🤓

Everybody, I give you the most Sheridan-coded Sheridan moment of all time: Sheridan smiling as he picks up and smells an orange whilst he’s reassuring people and being a good leader, at the same time as someone is aiming to shoot him in the head

and also his arc is to die for (literally) (okay ouch, me… that was uncalled for)

John Sheridan punching the man who just injured Delenn with pure rage is finer art than the Mona Lisa

Oh my god the mess. Honeybun I need to teach you how to cook without destroying your quarters

the fact he spent so much time and effort cooking her food for her is the softest thing I think he’s ever done

“I’ll be right back” okay Sheridan, seriously, for once, LET SECURITY DEAL WITH IT. But also at the same time this is so Sheridan and I love it

Centauri!Sheridan isn’t real, he can’t hurt you

No because Marcus headcanoning Sheridan as Arthur Pendragon is calling me out so hard

“A simple yes or no would’ve sufficed, Mr Lennier” oh no… he wouldn’t like me. Sorry, Sheridan, I always over-explain 🥲

Seeing him for a split second is enough to bring me joy for an entire week???????????? Am I okay??????

Oh the hand movements of John Sheridan thinking - a brilliant art form

“Angry enough to kill me? ‘Cause that’s the only way I’m leaving” hun I’m going to need you to stop tempting death for the sake of my own well-being (and yours) 🥲

“I’ve got nothing to lose. Hell, my own government wants to kill me! And if we lose this war I’m just as dead” I think that this line, along with the pure anguish in his voice when he’s saying it, was put in here to torture me 🤠✌️

Sheridan has had too many nasty shocks over the last 24 hours. I would say pls give him a break but I know what’s coming next and I really don’t think it is a break

His first kiss with Delenn not being her first kiss with him is a very interesting concept for a ship and I’m slightly obsessed with the idea???? Like it comes so naturally to her (obviously) and so the kiss is perfect because she knows what his actions will be like I—

“I look in your eyes now and I see the innocence that went away so many years ago.” *cue Bart Simpson saying that he can pinpoint the exact moment that my heart ripped in half*

“I’m going to have to think about this for a while” me too, me too. Lots of processing required 🤓 I actually don’t know how he’s still functioning like a normal human. I was so silent after this episode that my dad actually asked if I was alright (oops)

*fist clench* *holds hands behind back* *paces* guys I’ve found it, a moment of perfect cinema

Seeing John Sheridan’s eyes darkened from pure fatigue is what true pain feels like

You’re telling me that on top of everything else, my boy is having nightmares? Do I have to march my butt all the way to Babylon 5 and stop everyone and everything hurting him?????

Um idk he’s just??? Everything??? To me????

“It’s my responsibility, I can’t put it on anyone else” this line right here, this is the epitome of Sheridan, and oh how it breaks my heart </3

“Delenn’s been through a lot lately” “she’s got enough problems on her hands without giving her mine as well” that’s so soft but so heartbreaking how do I react 😩

Deleridan figuring out the shadows’ plans? But of course 💅

She is holding his arm and showing him the army she has built for him. This is some power couple shit 🤟

“I don’t know what to say” *strokes his face in the most unbelievably tender way* “say nothing” *THE cutest, MOST perfect embrace and first kiss THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN* send me a coroner, I’m deceased

It’s actually not funny how sick I felt before sitting down to watch this episode and the next one. I cannot enjoy shows casually 🤟

This episode is undiluted stress 🤓

“I do love you. If you believe nothing else, please… please believe that” and he WALKS AWAY. FUCKING HELL. JUST TORTURE ME, IT WOULD BE MORE PLEASANT

“Son of a bitch” “It’s against regulations to address a senior officer in those terms, Mister Garibaldi” even when faced with certain death, he can crack a good joke

Oh fuck, it’s the balcony

John Sheridan 🤝 breaking my heart with facial expressions

That shot is burned into my brain, I don’t think I will ever be able to move on 😃

[tryin2writehere]

Gentlemen Fanfic (Eddie x Susie)

PEOPLE IN GLASS HOUSES

1

Susie Glass’s layers rivaled an onion, but with hardened surfaces like the earth’s own fucking mantle. A polished design of layered wools, tweed, velvets and silks, as though they could literally armor her against a consistent onslaught of fatuity-prone workmates. Eddie spent long moments dealing devilish ideas of unfurling her from these layers. He often soothed himself with the notion that a personal union could be possible without imploding their professional partnership.

 

He found himself seeking signs like a meteorologist to predict her temperature, (cooly aloof with a sixty percent chance of snark.) When she warmed, and her eyes revealed a playful gleam, it could set him on the edge of reason.

Like he called her forth with desire alone, the outline of her body emanated on the decorative glass frame of his study. Before she was even fully in the room, he smiled, “Hello Susan.”

“Evening Edward,” she returned and sashayed across the room in a perfectly tailored blue plaid suit he’d never seen. She planted herself in a chair across from Eddie. 

The low light glinted off the amber bourbon Eddie poured into baccarat tumblers, “did you hear back from Brussels?”

“Our Belgian friends have a different timeline in mind and no sense of urgency. I reckon we’ll hear sometime next week.”

“Do you speak any Flemish?” The most successful way, he found, to get to know Susie Glass, was micro-information obtained in seemingly innocuous questions.  That and surviving nazi twat machine-gun fire.  

“Very little.  Mostly vulgarities, really.  I get by with French.  You?”

“Not a word,” he rounded his desk, sat on the edge, and handed her the drink, eyeing her on-business demeanor. 

She sipped, looking up at him through thick eyelashes and fringe, and his chest tightened slightly.

“Jack is doing well?”

Her countenance visibly lightened with her brother’s name, her azure eyes suddenly balmy, “he is indeed. Fortuitous you mentioning him.”

“How so?”

“I’ve a meeting tomorrow afternoon with an unpleasant but necessary gym owner. Thought you might like to join me.”

“I would like to join you, yes.  A gym owner?”

“I’m looking to acquire a few more locations.”

“For Jack?”

“He isn’t ready to train, and I need to keep him busy, keep his mind occupied while he’s recovering.  GlassKnuckle is a fine place, but his pride…he needs a bit of a fresh start. He’d be a good coach really,” she paused and smirked. “He’d be a shit awful manager, but I can outsource that to a degree. It’s the only environment I reckon will keep him contented until he can train again.”

Eddie nearly asked if fighting again was even a realistic possibility, but thought better of it.  He didn’t want to squash the hopeful glimmer in her eyes or again draw attention to his own culpability in Jack’s condition.

Instead he asked, “who is this unpleasant Gym Owner?”

“Sugar Walsh.  He owns three locations, and rumours abound he’s looking to unload them and retire.”

“What time tomorrow?”

“Two o’clock. You available then?”

“I’m not, unfortunately. I’m taking Chuckles and Junior to the doctor.”

“The doctor?” she leaned forward in concern.

“Just a scheduled check-up for the baby, but she asked me -“

“Of course,” she nodded, “you’re a good brother.”

“Mm. Yes, I try. Can we reschedule?”

“Had better not. As I said, he’s unpleasant as it is.”

She stared into her drink, her posture stiffening slightly, her body weighted again with some unknown problem-to-be-solved.

“Susie?”

She glanced up at him.

“Is there something -”

“- nothing I can’t handle,” she blinked softly.

“Of course,” he nodded again. “We should return around four pm tomorrow; would you like to have dinner with me, and we can discuss some overdue security upgrades?” 

“Dinner with the Duke of Halstead.  What shall I wear?”

“Something blue.  Compliments your eyes.”

“Hm. Blue it is.” She swallowed the last of her drink and was gone before he could conjure a chaste enough reason for her to stay.

[hanjisunglover]

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐘 - Han Jisung.

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

genre: rom-com, fluff, roommates to lovers

word count: 

summary: you always thought of jisung as an attractive guy, and it was amazing having him as your roommate, but things start to get weird after you dreamed of kissing him.

His lips looks so soft, that's what you think every morning, after you wake up and you do the same damn dream. Every, single, night. Your body seems to crave his kiss, and every time you see him there, without a shirt preparing breakfast strictly for two because he never forgets about you. and how you skip breakfast. So silly.

His messy brown hair, his look destroyed after hours of studying and little sleep, his toned chest, his honey skin. How his arms seems without any muscles but the truth is that this man work out three days a week, how his tiny waist makes his shoulders look bigger. He's just a really attractive guy. That was the first thought that you had when you saw him in the apartment too, he's attractive. It's a fact. But he is really goofy, and messy, and his clothes always mix with yours even if you do laundry two days after him. You like his kind and soft personality, he's nice, and he's really funny. Oh, of course, you don't have feelings for him. At least that's what you think, because you never looked at him in different eyes, or you never glance at his abs more than two seconds, or the way that he licks and bites his own lips when he's focus. Why you should noticed that, right?

“y/n, damn, do I have to wear a shirt to make you concentrate?” totally caught.

"i was not staring," you murmurs, avoiding his gaze and walking casually close to the table, where the two plates with pancakes and strawberries. You reach the fridge grabbing the whipped cream, "I asked you if you wanted whipped cream but I see that you're serving yourself."

"want some?" You asks moving the little bowl with the rest, right in front of him and you look in his eyes, that are shining like a kid. This is the first time that your gaze move down on his lips, with the desire of tasting them.

You guys are watching a movie, a movie that has chosen Jisung and you couldn't really care, your head is too lost in your thoughts. Thoughts about him, full of him. About his eyes, his hair, his smile, his lips.

The TV illuminates the room enough not to have to keep the lights of the living room on; You lie on the sofa, occupying it in half while the other half Jisung occupies it. "Jisung?"

"mh? y/n? wassup?" he murmurs still with his eyes locked on the movie, your mind can't stop, your movements either and you just get closer, on top of him. Jisung freeze are your eyes meets, admiring on each other as your face start to be really close to his.

"can I, kiss you jisung?"

"uh? kiss me?" me murmurs, his voice slowly die in his throat trying to process your words, his body shift lightly, making you move too, you're basically sitting on his lap now. Your mind is spinning, you want to feel his lips after all these dreams.

"I can't stop thinking about it." Your breath catch your throat as jisung's hand land on your cheek, you can barely speak again because his lips press against yours. It feels like magic, you're over the edge now, feeling him this close with this much emotions going on. It's just too much for you and you move back a little, just to break the kiss for some seconds.

The peck was so delicate and light that you need to go for another kiss, this time with more passion, you can hear jisung whimpering in your lips, your hands finds their way to his neck, stroking it lightly as his hands hold your hips.

You start to think why you never kissed him before, because it was even better than the dreams that you had.

[thelurkershideout]

tes summerfest day 1

breath or forbidden

Notes: Brief description of weird and unnatural eyes. No other warnings I can think of.

Miraak had to die. Solsthiem was only the beginning. Hermaeus Mora could not be trusted, but she had little choice.

Staring at the dim candle before her, Adri reminded herself over and over. Miraak had to die. It was the only way. Exhaustion clung to her. Three days since the standing stone. Three days since she heard his voice echo through her mind. Her eyelids grew heavy. 

No! She could not sleep, not yet. Miraak had to die, and as Dragonborn she was the only one who could do it.

Adri returned her attention to the book of riddles in her lap, attempting to keep her mind occupied and alert. She slid her finger tips to the edge of the page, flicking slightly to turn it. The yellowed corner bit into her fingertip. Her eyes snapped shut at the sting.

Then, stillness. Her eyes opened slowly, to the sickly green glow of Apocrypha. Something was different this time. Mora's eyes did not speckle the swirling skies. There were no beastly librarians to greet her. No inky black pools. This chamber seemed far more like the libraries she was used to. Skeletal shelves filled with petrified books and well worn but readable tomes. All lining a pathway ending in a … desk?

Adri approached slowly. A single, low burning, candle was all that lit the space. The desk was covered in scrolls and scraps of paper, each covered in fragmented notes, scribbles, and sketches. Plans.

“You should not be here, Dragonborn.” 

She stumbled, steadying herself against the desk as she turned to face Miraak. He loomed at the edge of the candlelight, only a few feet away.

“Are you afraid I'll learn your secrets?” She asked, mimicking the arrogance in his voice from their first meeting. He did not respond, instead inspecting the skies.

“Afraid you might be replaced by someone more powerful?”

“You have no idea -”

“The true power a Dragonborn can wield? You know nothing about me.”

Miraak stepped forward, closing the gap between them in only a few steps. A gloved hand resting on the desk beside her as he leaned into her space, his mask inches from her face.

“You have no idea what Mora is capable of.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Nothing in Apocrypha remains unchanged by his will.”

His free hand pulled the golden mask from his face. Eyes eerily similar to Mora's, pupils elongated and scaleras blackened, stared into her. Ancient burns long since scarred over crept along pale cheeks that had forgotten the warmth of the sun. Black lips, as though permanently stained by ink, closed into a firm frown.

“Run while you still can, little dragon.”

Adri's hand raised to his cheek, stopping herself just short of touching him. Miraak had to… Fingertips brushed against his skin.

“ENOUGH!!” Hermaeus Mora’s voice shattered through Apocrypha as black tentacles wrapped around her wrist and waist. In an instant she and Miraak were ripped away and everything went black.

“Are you alright?” Talvas’ voice seemed muffled as she blinked awake. She waved him away as she pushed herself from the floor. 

“Neloth.” She said as she leaned against her reading table. The wizard did not look up from his enchanting table.

“I need you to help me defy the Prince of Fate.”

[strawberriemarswrites]

CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Summary: You go out for drinks with your coworkers, with an ulterior motive to see your neighbor at the same time. Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ for the story, SFW chapter) TW: Creepy bar patron, attempted drugging, Barto committing a little violence in your name Ao3 Link: Chapter Two (4,566 words)

Two weeks passed without incident. In fact, your perfume even turned back up. It wasn’t where you normally kept it in the bathroom, but sitting on top of your dresser right in plain sight. Go figure. Bartolomeo hadn’t said anything about any suspicious activity around, either, so maybe you were just being a little extra spacey. After all, you were more accustomed to having a roommate or your parents around to help fill in the gaps, so maybe you just needed to be a bit more mindful while you adjusted to living alone.

(Nevermind that you had looked atop the dresser for that perfume, and it wasn’t there before.)

In that span of two weeks you were able to convince some of your coworkers to try a different bar. More specifically, The Sound Barrier, where Bartolomeo worked. Robin was intrigued by the prospect of somewhere new, and agreed. A fellow archives technician, Nami, also agreed, stating she was eager to con some free drinks out of a different sort of crowd than the usual haunts. You were unsuccessful in convincing Vivi, one of the conservators, but she talked another conservator, Drake, into going. Rebecca, an archives specialist, also declined, apologetic as she already had plans to see her aunt.

Of the usual pay-day drinks crew, three out of five (including yourself) wasn't bad, and the addition of Drake meant there would be an extra bit of robust support, given the unfamiliar territory. Plus, Bartolomeo would be there working, so you'd have more than enough people looking out for you that night.

Still, you couldn’t shake the ominous feeling looming over your head. With both you and Bartolomeo out, that left your apartment unprotected from another break-in, a thought that chilled you down to the bone. You considered asking the neighbors that lived below you if they could keep an eye out, but you weren’t entirely trusting that they wouldn’t already be occupied with their usual bickering. And given you were pretty sure the neighbor below Bartolomeo was a near-sighted old woman, that took her out from the running as well. You could ask the landlord, but he should have already been on the lookout for suspicious activity, so he wasn’t likely to have your best interest at heart, either.

You had to rely on blind luck that your apartment would be safe. 

You shook your head, trying not to dwell on the thought for too long. It was supposed to be a fun night, you couldn’t let some hypothetical creep ruin it. With one more look in the mirror, you headed for the door, scooping up your purse on the way and double-checking for your wallet, phone, and keys. Just as you were triple-checking the door was locked, your phone pinged — Robin was outside with Drake and Nami already in the car. You cast one final look at your door, the ominous chill threatening to creep back up your spine, before you shoved the feeling back down and hustled to the elevator.

Everything would be fine. Damn it all, you had to believe that if you wanted to have any fun tonight.

The car that waited outside wasn’t Robin’s, but instead an unfamiliar silver SUV. The backseat window rolled down to reveal her sitting behind the driver, whose silhouette you eventually recognized to be Drake as you approached. Robin smiled and opened the door for you, ushering you in.

“Told you so,” Nami said from the front seat, grinning at Drake smugly.

“I’ll be damned,” he said as you buckled in. “I thought Nami was messing with me when she said you lived here. Didn’t expect it to be —”

“On the shitty side of town?” you interjected. 

Drake nodded, pulling away from the curb.

“What’s the name of this place again?” Nami asked.

“The Sound Barrier,” you answered, fidgeting in your seat. “Thanks for taking me up on this one, by the way. I thought maybe we should try something new.”

Robin smiled knowingly. “You’re sure it doesn’t have anything to do with this mysterious neighbor of yours?”

“Uh... well,” you hesitated, scratching the back of your neck. “Maybe a little.”

“He better not say anything if he catches me getting free drinks from one of his regulars,” Nami said, pulling up the map on her phone.

“If he doesn’t, I will.” Drake said.

“What are you, a cop?”

You giggled despite yourself, feeling a little more relaxed. You didn’t know Drake particularly well, so it was a relief to know he was on the sterner side. Even with that reassurance, you must have still looked a bit uneasy, given that Robin leaned a bit closer to you and asked, “Everything all right?”

Her observation skills were both appreciated and unnerving at times, with very little getting past her. She seemed content enough to make it known she was aware something was up, but you didn’t want to worry anyone else with the break-ins, especially with the current lull in occurrences. However, you knew Robin would be suspicious all night if you didn’t say something.

You smiled, trying not to let the twist in your stomach show. “I’ll be fine. Just nervous — I’ve never seen Bartolomeo outside of the apartment building.”

She tilted her head. “You think he might be different in public?”

“It’s more... He’s never seen me outside the apartment, either. So it feels like this is a chance to know more about each other in a different way than we could from just the brief meetings.”

She laughed, putting a hand up in front of her mouth, though her smile was still clearly visible behind it. “Like seeing something in its natural habitat.”

You laughed, too, adding, “I guess I’m also hoping that I’ll live up to whatever expectations he might have in his head.”

“I think you will,” she said, dropping her hand to reveal her still smiling. “If it helps ease your nerves any, it’s likely he could be thinking the same thing of you.”

That did reassure you some, the tension in your shoulders dissipating. You nodded, and switched subjects, chatting with Robin and Nami, with the occasional input from Drake. The worries you’d had in your mind drifted far behind you as you finally felt like you’d be able to enjoy the night ahead.

Act like you always do, Bartolomeo told himself over and over again. Just gotta act natural.

“You gonna wipe down the same spot all night?” a voice called to him over the live band and bar chatter. He looked up to see his coworker and best friend, Gambia, leaning against the register and giving him a gap-toothed grin.

Bartolomeo rolled his eyes and pushed off the bar counter, draping the sanitation rag over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t have to if you did your job right.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Gambia said, pushing off from the register. “Definitely doesn’t have anything to do with that girl you keep talkin’ about, right?”

The lights were dim enough in the bar that Bartolomeo didn’t have to worry about his ears turning pink. “It might. Not like it’s any of your business.”

“It is if it’s bothering you. She break your heart or somethin’?”

“No!” he snapped a little too quickly, then reeled it back in. “She’s coming by tonight. I don’t wanna make a bad impression.”

Gambia snorted, “You? Bein’ worried about what someone thinks? Doesn’t sound like the Barto I know.”

Bartolomeo folded his arms and leaned against the back bar, averting his eyes. “Just what this one thinks.” 

“All right, fair enough,” Gambia said and put his hands up defensively. “Just wish you’d said somethin’ sooner — maybe Gramma would’ve let us get out the good stuff.”

Bartolomeo cast a sideways glance to his friend and smirked. “Don’t go tellin’ everyone about it, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know me. Don’t let it distract you from doin’ what we’re paid to do.” Gambia nodded toward the door. “Speakin’ of which...”

Bartolomeo turned, feeling his heart skip. There you were, sticking out like a sore thumb in a place like this. You were joined by a dark-haired woman and a redhead, who were both equally gorgeous. Beautiful, even. Any other day he’d gladly let either one step on him. But you were perfect, and the only one he had eyes for. He then noticed that bringing up the rear of your group was a tall man with narrow glasses and a scar on his chin, and Bartolomeo felt something in the back of his mind begin to panic. What the hell was wrong with him? Was it that you hadn’t mentioned one of the drinking friends was a guy? It wasn’t like you couldn’t have guy friends, that’d be ridiculous. You were a grown adult, you could have whatever friends you wanted.

Still, he couldn’t shake the sudden flare up of jealousy that swelled in his chest. He refocused his attention to you. You were conversing with the dark-haired woman, who was slowly surveying the area. Her eyes found Bartolomeo, and an odd, almost shrewd smile graced her features before she leaned a bit closer to you, and immediately you whipped your head toward the bar with a wide grin. You waved as your group ushered you along toward a curved booth, and he waved back, unable to keep from mirroring the grin on your face.

“So that’s him, huh?” Nami said to you as Robin and Drake sat down. “You weren’t kidding when you said he’s kind of scary-looking.”

“I thought he’d be scarier,” Robin giggled. “He looks more like a big cat to me. Or a rooster.”

“More like an Oni,” Drake commented, adjusting his glasses. “Vivi and I finished work with a set of masks a few months ago. He reminds me of one of them.”

You turned pink, fidgeting. “He’s not so bad when you know him.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Nami said with a smirk. “And that judgment will be based on whether or not we get the first round free.”

While your group was settling in and figuring out drink orders, Bartolomeo was resisting the urge to jump over the counter to greet you. Any hope he had of appearing casual amidst his internal struggle was crushed when Gambia nudged him.

“That her?” he asked, as if he couldn’t already tell, a shit-eating grin on his face.

The limited lighting did nothing for the bright red that crept up Bartolomeo’s neck. “The one on the left, yeah.”

“Aw, she’s real cute,” Gambia said and nudged him again. “And you still haven’t asked her out yet?”

Bartolomeo turned even more red. 

The blonde sucked his teeth, “Oooh, better do it quick. She looks the type to get snatched out from under ya.”

That statement made Bartolomeo’s stomach churn. He knew Gambia was just talking shit, but something deep inside him fumed at the thought of you with anyone else. He shook his head, pushing down the dark voice in the back of his mind once more. It’d be fine. Sooner or later, either he’d ask you out or you’d beat him to the punch — just not yet. It didn’t feel right yet.

You rushed over ahead of Nami, weaving between other patrons with laser-like focus as you found your way to an empty barstool and hopped up. As Bartolomeo side-stepped to stand opposite you, you grinned and stuck out your tongue. “Told you I’d get them here.”

He grinned back, making your heart skip a beat. “About friggin’ time. I was wondering when they’d give in.”

“You make it sound like I forced them,” you said, putting a hand over your chest in mock-offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m naturally persuasive.”

His grin turned lopsided. “So you’re telling me you didn’t bat those big pretty eyes and beg them to come?”

Your heart skipped another beat. He thinks my eyes are pretty?

Nami approached then, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she leaned over you with a cheeky grin on her face. “Are you all done catching up? I’m dying for a screwdriver already.”

Bartolomeo’s gaze drifted to the redhead behind you, and you tried not to read too much into it, fully aware that Nami caught the eyes of everyone. Still, you couldn’t stop your chest from tightening. With a sheepish smile, you gestured to her and said, “Nami, Bartolomeo. Do not let her convince you to forget the tab.”

“Oh, you killjoy,” she whined, pouting. “Between you and Drake, how am I supposed to have any fun?”

“I can start you off with that screwdriver,” Bartolomeo said with a smirk, putting both hands on the bar and leaning forward, his arms holding him up like an A-Frame. “Anything else I can get for you pretty ladies?”

Again, your chest tightened. Right, he worked at a bar, it only made sense that he’d probably be turning up the charm as part of his job. His “pretty eyes” comment earlier probably didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Then his gaze met yours, and everything fell away. The dim lighting cast dark shadows over his features that made him look all the more intimidating, his amber eyes practically glowing. Between the broad shoulders, the eyes, and his fangs, for a moment you thought he might lunge forward and bite you, sinking sharp teeth into soft flesh with intent to consume you whole.

And then you thought about how maybe you wouldn't mind that.

It occurred to you that Nami had ordered the other two drinks, and Bartolomeo was waiting on yours. Snapping back into reality, you stuttered, “Whatever hard cider you have on tap.”

He smiled, further evoking the image of a hungry predator, and nodded. “You got it.”

Damn his smile. You probably should not have found that as hot as you did.

As the night progressed, you did your best to balance your attention between your coworkers and Bartolomeo. You felt a touch guilty that the scales weighed so heavily in the latter’s favor, as you really did enjoy chatting away with Robin and Nami as well as learning more about the normally reserved Drake. But you couldn’t help yourself from looking over at the bar to try and catch Bartolomeo’s eye, blushing every time he smiled at you. Eventually, Nami decided it was time to start charming some of the other patrons for free drinks, disappearing into a crowd gathered around the small stage at the back of the establishment.

“You think she’s going for the band?” you asked Robin, catching brief glimpses of red hair weaving and bobbing effortlessly amongst the horde of metal heads and punks.

“That’s likely her end goal,” Robin said, sipping at her Manhattan. “She’s probably scoping them out first.”

“And she does this every night you go out?” Drake asked.

You shook your head. “Not every time. Just when she knows she can get away with it.” Hopefully Bartolomeo doesn’t notice. On reflex, you found yourself once again looking over at the bar, smiling at him. This time he was busy with another customer, but you didn’t miss the way his mouth twitched into a wider smile when his eyes flicked over to yours.

“You can go sit at the bar if you really want to.”

Robin’s voice made you start, and you fidgeted with the napkin under your drink. “But — I’m out with you guys, not him. I don’t want to be rude...”

“You’re not being rude,” she said, nudging you lightly. “You wanted to see him tonight, you can go see him. I’m sure Drake and I can manage.”

Drake nodded. “Just don’t let him give you any trouble. We’re right here if he does.”

Your heart fluttered and you stood up, thanking them both and making your way back to the bar.

Bartolomeo nearly tripped on his way to your seat, shooting a glare at Gambia when he noticed and laughed. If you noticed, too, you didn’t show it, giving him that goddamn gorgeous smile of yours that made his heart race. After ordering another hard cider, he leaned atop the counter, his forearms supporting his weight as he bent at the waist. “So uh, you havin’ fun?”

Smooth. Real smooth.

You nodded as you took a drink, pointing to the band. “Nami’s out there doing her thing. Drake — the guy over there —” you gestured over your shoulder “— he’s never come out with us before. Robin got him talking about reptiles though and they didn’t stop for like twenty minutes.” You propped your chin up in your hands. “So I’m over here to bug you while they talk about fossils. I’m all yours.”

It took a not-inconsiderable amount of effort not to blurt out do you really mean that? However there was no hiding the waver in his voice when he said, “You can come bug me anytime, sweetheart. Dunno that I’ll have anything as interestin’ to talk about, though.”

Shit. Did he just call you “sweetheart” out loud? It just popped out, he couldn’t stop it. But he then saw your cheeks turn a very pretty shade of pink, and he latched onto the nickname, immediately forgetting his panic over using it. He wanted to see that blush more.

You tucked a stray hair behind your ear, switching to resting your cheek in one palm. “Honestly, even if I don’t understand at all what someone’s talking about, just listening to them gush about what they love is fun. Anything can be interesting if it’s talked about with a lot of passion like that.”

Bartolomeo grinned. “So, you’re telling me, if I talked your ear off about baseball, you’d just let me do it? No filter?”

“Pretty much,” you giggled, tracing a finger around the rim of your glass. “I’m surprised baseball’s your topic of choice though. You don’t strike me as the sporty type.” You paused, then giggled again. “Pun not intended.”

“Nah, not particularly. It’s just the first thing that came to mind,” he laughed, standing upright and reaching to his back pocket for his wallet. “I do have this really cool card though that someone left behind one night a few years back. Autographed and everything.” 

He showed you the card, depicting a green-haired batter holding three bats — one in each hand, and one between his teeth. You had to admit, it looked cool as hell. “What if someone comes back looking for it?”

“Screw them, finders keepers. And like I said, it’s been a few years. I doubt they’ll come back for it at this point.”

You stifled a snort and took another drink. “So if not sports, what is something you’re really passionate about?”

As he was about to answer, his attention was drawn to the front door, a pair of customers coming in and taking seats at the opposite end of the bar. “Just a sec, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

He couldn’t resist dropping the nickname again. The flush in your cheeks was worth it.

Drake kept an eye on you from the booth, still chatting with Robin about this and that. Vivi had convinced him to go on this outing in her stead with the premise of giving him an opportunity to know his coworkers better, but he knew part of it was a concern for the venue. He’d been to plenty of bars in his life, including a fair share of metal and punk ones, and they’d all been about the same as far as rowdiness. Though, in his experience, the grittier places tended to have the better behaved clientele oddly enough, so while he felt Vivi’s concern was a bit misplaced, he didn’t want to offend her, knowing she cared a lot about the safety of her friends.

Admittedly, he’d been a little shocked to find that this neighbor of yours that Nami and Robin had been gossiping about was so rough-looking, considering in comparison you were on the smaller and softer side. But Drake was never one to judge anyone for their tastes, even if he subconsciously found himself a bit more wary than usual. No doubt the girls would both be reporting to Vivi that the rumors of Bartolomeo’s intimidating visage were true, and if they didn’t he certainly would.

It was at that moment, however, when you were left alone, that someone on the other end of the bar sidled up to the empty barstool on your right, a beer glass in hand. Greasy black hair, a thin, wiry mustache that made him look like a catfish, wearing a fedora and cheap dress pants. Drake caught the action in his periphery, watching carefully as the man tried to push for your attention. It was eventually given, and based on the way you cringed away from him, it was definitely not a comfortable exchange.

“Robin,” Drake said, his voice low as he nodded toward your seat. “We need to help her.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed, and with a sigh she stood. “How underhanded. He came up to her while Rooster was distracted.” She gave Drake an almost mischievous smile, putting a finger up to her lips. “I need to run to the ladies room anyway. I’ll go get her so we don’t cause a scene.”

He nodded, trying not to stare at the sway of Robin’s hips as she gracefully moved to the bar to collect you. You looked beyond relieved for the excuse to get away, throwing a quick wave over to Bartolomeo (who was still somewhat occupied with the new customers) as you slid off your barstool, the creep left alone to stew.

And then Drake’s stomach dropped, his nerves on high alert. You left your drink unattended.

Something that Bartolomeo didn’t miss, either. He was watching from his peripherals as well, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end when the creep had approached and started to harass you. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to pay attention to the drink orders while keeping an eye on the unsavory intruder. He had relaxed slightly when the dark haired woman came to collect you and you both went off to the restrooms, only to be put on edge again when he saw an all-too-familiar movement.

Something was slipped into your drink.

Oh. Hell no. Bartolomeo finished writing down the new drink orders and moved to the tap, giving the unaware sleazebag a death stare that would have made the grim reaper look away. Thankfully, he was distracted by another patron, and his seat was on the way to the tap.

Drake saw the slip as well, and stood to confront the miscreant. He only made it about two steps however, before he saw Bartolomeo pass, and slyly swap the glasses. 

The two men made eye contact, with the sharp-toothed bartender giving Drake a knowing smirk before moving on.

The creep was none the wiser, turning back to “his” drink and taking a long pull.

As you returned to the bar with Robin, you stared at your glass, and your stomach churned. With a curled lip, you pushed it away, looking at Robin over your shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Robin leaned over the counter and flagged down the other bartender. “Can we get the tab?”

After the bar had closed, a very, very inebriated man in a fedora and cheap dress pants was stumbling down the back alley. “Stupid stuck-up bitch and her stupid stuck-up friend,” he slurred, one of the few coherent things he had managed to say all night. “Stupid fuckin’. Bartenders and their. Fuckin’ rules.”

He tripped over his own feet and landed on the concrete with a pained shout, nearly biting his tongue. He just wanted to have fun tonight. He hadn’t had fun in a long time. He couldn’t even get a prostitute these days. Probably because all the ones in town knew him by name and knew he always stiffed them on the payment. 

With a groan he rolled onto his back, trying to blink away the spots in his eyes. Why were the buildings all warped? Why did he feel like he was going to vomit up his whole stomach? What the hell was that shape looming over him with orange eyes?

“Man,” the shape above him said in a gravelly voice that sounded both too close and a thousand miles away, “you look fuckin’ pathetic.”

The creep writhed on the ground, further proving Bartolomeo’s point, and slurred back, “Nnno, yer prophetic...”

Bartolomeo cocked his head, sneering. All he could think of was how this pig, this scum of the earth, was allowed to keep living for so long. How many other bars had he hit up trying to pull what he nearly did to you? What would have happened if you’d encountered him elsewhere? Your friends looked out for you, sure, but what if you’d been alone?

Bartolomeo would have swapped the drinks even if it hadn’t had been you that was targeted. No one tries to drug someone in his bar and gets away with it. What he couldn’t do was convince himself that if it happened to anyone else, he’d be going as far as he currently was to make sure it never happened again. The creep tried to sit up, and Bartolomeo put one foot on his chest, tilting his head the other way. After another beat he lifted his foot, then slammed it down on one hand with a sickening crack. 

This guy picked the wrong place, and he really picked the wrong time.

The creep let out an agonized yell, eyes wide and suddenly alert as he scrabbled at Bartolomeo’s boot. Bartolomeo crouched down, putting more weight on his foot and brandishing a switchblade, pointing it right between the man’s eyes.

“Now that I got your attention,” he drawled, “I’ll speak nice and slow for ya, so maybe it’ll stick in that roofied brain of yours.” He lazily held the blade between his thumb and middle finger, swaying it back and forth. “I ever catch you around here again, you’re gonna lose this hand.”

He put pressure on it for emphasis, drawing forth another pained yell amidst a symphony of crunching bones.

“I ever hear about you trying to dope up anyone else, I’ll take the other one.”

The creep was practically foaming at the mouth, unable to form coherent words between the blinding pain and the drugs in his system. Bartolomeo let the knife slide down, the tip landing right on the bridge of the man’s nose and making him go stock-still.

“If you ever. Ever. Mess with that girl again? With what’s mine?” He bared his fangs in a snarl, “The only drinks you’ll ever get are gonna be through an IV. Get me?”

The man nodded, whimpering feebly.

“Perfect. But, just to make sure you don’t forget...”

Bartolomeo lifted his foot, then slammed the switchblade into the man’s palm. The scream that echoed in the alley made it all the more worth it. He yanked the knife out and wiped the blood off on the man’s shirt before standing, casually nudging him to the side with his boots as he began the walk home. He found himself humming a random tune along the way, satisfaction welling in his chest.

After all, he promised to take care of anyone who dared to mess with you.

[hersweetrevenge]

corey cunningham headcanons [volume three]

corey has my heart, i want to know every single detail about him, and if i am not given that information then i will simply make it up (he told me through prophetic dreams). based on this set of questions. and if you missed the previous instalments, no you didn't: volume one and volume two.

[credit where credit is due, some of these hcs are shared with @/slutforstabbings, and i have merely adopted into my own belief system and expanded on certain points that i latched onto, so please go read through blake's stuff too because they actually know what they're talking about !!]

WARNING for angst, brief talks of sex, and mentions of child abuse, child death, mental health, trauma and sexuality.

[image sources: X, X]

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

corey had a pretty isolated childhood, the internet wasn't really a thing for a while, joan put a lot of restrictions on his television time, and he never had play dates or the chance to hang out with people outside of school. therefore corey is the daydream king, always in his own little world. corey had a lot of spare time and he can sit and zone out for hours, unbothered, if he has the time. he's been chastised so many times by joan for not paying attention or being away with the fairies.

however, that's not to say he can't pay attention when he needs to, he has a very good attention span when he has something to focus on, like school work or reading or watching movies. but, if it's a mindless task he can do without thinking then his mind does tends to wander.

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

i've said this before but the way having a laughing fit with corey until my sides hurt would literally fix me.

corey has a funny sense of humour, kind of dark but kind of dorky. pre-accident corey laughs pretty easily. at school he had a kind of off-beat friend group who had an overall off-beat sense of humour that occupied them in the cafeteria or while they slacked off in gym class.

post-accident corey holds back from making his own jokes or being funny, like he doesn't know the social rules anymore. like he doesn't deserve to laugh or thinks people will be mad at him for thinking he can be funny.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

as previously mentioned, corey has a lot of time to think. he struggles to sleep well at night and honestly his daydreaming can make things worse if he latches onto a thought and keeps following it when he should be trying to clear his mind.

if he wants some stimulation though, he goes on wikipedia. he will fall asleep having fallen down a wiki rabbit hole and wake up in the morning on the page for like the 1847 great fire of bucharest with no memory of how he ended up there.

How easy is it to earn their trust? How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

it's not that easy to earn corey's trust. corey is used to being in a pretty emotionally volatile environment, so he does a lot of premature damage control around people that he doesn't know well enough to read their moods and behaviour. however, once he feels more comfortable, he's a lot more open (though still has a sense of wariness in the back of his mind). basically, it's not impossible to earn his trust.

post-accident corey is a different story though, he has an automatic distrust of everyone. he can't assume anyone intentions are solely good for a long, long time. honestly, he doesn't trust most people, he canonically only goes to one gas station because he trusts they won't speak to him. and he distrusts his co-workers at prevo for different reasons, i.e. he's been low-level pranked more times than he cares to remember.

What triggers nostalgia for them most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

corey gets good nostalgia and bad nostalgia.

bad nostalgia is usually something to do with joan, or remembering how he felt as a child when he was on edge so often. spaghetti truly was joan's worst meal so the smell, taste, texture and look of spaghetti is something he can't really stand anymore. if he never eats spaghetti again, it'll be too soon. rabbit paraphernalia give a lot of bad nostalgia.

corey's sense of good nostalgia is pretty specific. good nostalgia comes from watching old movies. he loves westerns and anything cowboy adjacent. a lot of the shows he watched as a kid were older cartoons so he gets a lot of nostalgia from those too. the smell of night time, where everything feels kind of dewy is good nostalgia for him, as well as the smell of the woodwork room at school.

What were they told to stop doing most often as a child?

i've mentioned before that as a baby, corey was actually very content and not fussy at all, which joan was unreasonably pleased about -- he was her perfect, happy, chubby-cheeked baby. however, once he hit the terrible twos and developed some autonomy, that's when joan's control issues started to really kick in with her parenting.

joan told corey off for doing all sorts of things as a child -- fidgeting too much, being too boisterous, getting grass stains on his clothes, not finishing his dinner, meddling with the rabbits (or anything else around the house), watching cartoon network, not holding her hand around the store, playing with a kid she doesn't approve of, asking too many questions -- the list is honestly endless, and not all of these misdemeanours have any logic behind them other than joan's moods and keeping corey on his toes.

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

he swears sometimes but not that much. his first swear word was probably 'shit' (he overheard joan mutter it once), like out in the yard at recess him and his little friends all went around in a circle and said the worst swears they knew. once he hit middle school and high school, swearing becomes more common and he sprinkles it through his vocab. then when he starts at prevo it's a much more rough-and-ready attitude to language and he gets (light-heartedly) teased for how much more reserved he comes across compared to the other mechanics.

joan would kill him if she ever heard him swear, so he'd never dream of swearing in front of her. he has a distinct line he draws between his language at home and outside.

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

corey lies a lot, but none of his lies weigh too heavily on his conscience.

corey would sneak out at night to parties and joan never found out about it. he can navigate his house is total darkness as to not wake his mom, and to his credit joan never found out. he used to lie about his day when he was in college all the time, and he lies saying that he comes straight home after work now.

i guess you could say he emotionally lies a lot? it's easier to placate joan with being agreeable than to admit anything (to himself or joan).

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

joan used to (and still does) tell him off for fidgeting so he will restrain himself until he can leave the room and will then become a grizzly bear and itch his back on the nearest doorframe.

Are they easily embarrassed?

yes. end post.

but seriously, he is pretty easily embarrassed. corey has never had a very good self esteem, he honestly is under the impression he's kind of unlikable and that all his actions are under some kind of social scrutiny.

pre-accident his self confidence was healing a little bit with his growing independence, so he could more easily brush things off but awkward moments still stick in his brain for him to agonise over later.

although he's learnt to deal with it in most situations, if he's feeling more vulnerable or he's with someone he really likes/admires then he does not cope well when he feels like he's being made fun of -- he gets all defensive and sulky.

What is their favourite number?

i don't think corey has a favourite number, but if he had to pick one, i think it'd either be something like a mathematically "special" number, or something sentimental like his dad's birthday.

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

oh man, this is not corey's forte at all. corey does not have a very good grasp on (his own) boundaries or the lines between different types of relationships.

i've said this a million times before (and no one has stopped me yet heehee), but because he's so used to the lines being pretty blurry with joan and having such an insular upbringing, he doesn't really know how to draw lines between how he loves someone. he's a real all or nothing type of person -- he's only ever learnt how to put all his feelings onto one person. joan wants that person to corey, because corey is that person to her.

subsequently, corey has only really experienced familial love in this abusive way, so projects the opposite (and what he reasons to be "normal") onto his imagined relationship with his father, idolising him to an unrealistic extent.

platonic is a sort of grey area for him, he tends to feel emotions either very intensely or not at all. he can go from really "loving" someone (either a friend he already has or someone he wishes he could befriend) to being mostly indifferent. the strength of his emotions tend to mean he can't really pinpoint exactly what he desires from the friendship/relationship. that's not to say he doesn't understand what "being friends" is, he does, but it doesn't always feel as poignant for him. it's something he was starting to figure out in high school and college, but then regressed with after the accident.

[this isn't the case for everyone] for corey romantic attraction and sexual attraction are usually linked, so romance does becomes slightly easier to differentiate. however, coming back to his boundary issues, even if he undeniably feels romantic love for someone, he's hesitant to communicate it unless he's figured out "the rules". everyone has rules (boundaries) to learn, and once he understands them, corey knows how to play the game -- he can do what he has to to be loved/wanted/tolerated enough to satiate his own feelings.

Why do they get up in the morning? 

currently, it's because ronald will kick his ass if he doesn't show up to work. well, ronald is usually pretty lenient on him, (maybe too lenient, and the other mechanics know corey doesn't get as much shit because he's ronald's step-kid). corey does actually like going to work though, his dream didn't pan out the way he expected but he does love being a mechanic -- it's just dampened by the rest of his circumstances.

corey has never been very good at getting up in the morning though, and back when he was at school he was no stranger to nearly missing the bus every morning.

during the manslaughter trial, he had so much to do, between trips to his lawyers office and then the courthouse once the trial actually starts, he is stressed enough that he gets up and ready for the day pretty early and then just sits and worries until someone tells him what to do.

after the trial though, he honestly just doesn't get up in the morning. he has no job, no social life, and honestly no reason to do anything at all. he spends most of his time in bed, unless joan nags him into showering, eating or running errands with her, or if he has an appointment with his shrink.

 Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

as previously mentioned, corey is pretty self conscious so he won't admit to a crush under any circumstances, and he doesn't have a lot of his own experiences to talk about, so he's kind of refrained when talking about sex. he is a known prude, to be honest.

but, he is also a teenage boy with a weird friend group, so sex is a frequent topic. he can't talk about sex in regards to himself at that point, but he'll laugh at jokes and is kind of enthralled by hearing anecdotes (not that his friends have many).

in a relationship, i think it takes corey a while to open up and be comfortable talking about sex outside of doing the act itself. dirty talk makes him blush, and he's never really had a lot of experience or opportunity to seriously think about what he likes and then be able to convey that out loud.

 What are their thoughts on marriage? 

i don't think corey cares about the legal aspects, but he does like the idea of marriage. devoting yourself to one person and one person only, whom you love dearly, forever and ever until you both die? literally exactly what corey wants, the legal part doesn't really matter.

the only wedding he's been to was when joan and ronald got married at the courthouse. he was 15 and honestly had surprisingly few feelings about the whole thing -- he caught on pretty early on that his mom and ronald were hardly "in love" but this is what adults do, so here he is in his best clothes and thinking about the wedding cake he'll get to eat later. this is partly why he doesn't care too much about the legal side; anyone can get married, but the real true proven commitment if what love really is.

corey would be more than happy with a courthouse wedding himself, he just wants to be with his s/o forever, so a simple, no guests, sign on the line type wedding is good enough to get the job done.

 What is their preferred mode of transportation? 

motorbike, of course. he knew his dad had ridden a motorbike since he found some old photos, but corey never actually rides one himself until ronald gives him the kawasaki. he knew theoretically how to ride, because he knows the mechanics of a basic motorbike, but he truly learns as he goes when he fixes up his own bike. the motorbike gives him a huge sense of freedom, and fulfils all of his easy rider (1969) and the wild one (1953) fantasies.

corey learnt how to drive at 16 through drivers ed, but joan rarely lets him drive her car, and he obviously can't afford his own. sometimes she lets him drive them home from the store, but she is a serious backseat driver so it's sort of just a nightmare for everyone involved.

corey hasn't travelled very far before, so he's never been on a train, but i think he'd enjoy it. long journeys where he can zone out and just look at the landscape? a very good combination for corey.

and how can we forget his trusty bicycle. corey learnt to ride a bike as a child, joan wasn't a very good teacher, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly anyway. corey has had his current bike for almost 10 years now. the chain constantly comes loose, and he's had to tape up the seat and the handle grips more times than he can count. it mostly does the job, and it did give him a lot more freedom as a teenager than he'd had before that.

 Who do they most regret meeting? 

is it cliche to say the allens? maybe so, but it's definitely the allens.

if he never met the allens then jeremy wouldn't have died and corey would have gone off to college and got his degree and a graduate job at mercedes or boeing or somewhere and --

mostly corey tries not to think about the "what ifs" but they do creep into his mind.

[and, if you're that way inclined, if corey had never met roger he could have saved himself so, so much heartache, and maybe not have ruined his perceptions of relationships for the foreseeable]

 Could they be considered lazy? 

on a superficial level, maybe. he sleeps in late and doesn't do any housework, so maybe out of context he could seem lazy, but he actually has a really good work ethic and likes to be doing something. joan doesn't enlist him to do chores because chores are skills and she wants him to be dependent on her.

he definitely is not lazy at work though. when he first started a prevo, he mostly just did grunt work and the easy tasks that the other mechanics were too busy for but still needed to get done. he pulled his weight, no one can deny that. a few years in, he still doesn't handle many full jobs himself, but he is trusted to do more specialised things.

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

joan ingrained it in him to feel guilty about a lot of things that aren't his fault. baseline guilt like that he can cope with, he just grovels and submits himself enough to earn forgiveness and then the whole thing starts over the next time joan finds a bone to pick.

after the accident though, his guilt is pretty constant. everything serves as a reminder of what happened, and even if he got acquitted, he does feel like it was at least partly his fault jeremy died.

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? 

corey has a great memory but he doesn't really have any particular system, things just stick with him. he's great with remembering conversations, and when he was studying he could retain information in maths/science pretty easily, but his "less strong" subjects required more work on his part.

he does remember all the states and their capitals because of the animaniacs song.

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

it's not his most frequent, but there's this memory that corey has about his dad that usually comes to him when he's on the cusp of sleeping and awake. subconsciously, i think he's aware that it's probably a false memory. wally "died" before corey could really form any proper memories of him, but he loves this one anyway. corey remembers himself, as a baby, laughing while his dad is holding him, maybe he's playing with him, or bouncing him on his knee, but the details are pretty fuzzy -- it's barely a fragment of a memory but it makes corey happy.

a memory that has involuntarily has made it's home in corey's brain is from the accident. the blood was bad, but mostly it's the sound that corey can't forget. that sick thud sound.

How do they feel about children? 

pre-accident corey didn't care much about children. he doesn't dislike them, but he doesn't really interact with them (he doesn't have any family, and at the houses he does yard work, the parents tend to keep their kids out of his way so he can work without dodging any kids). he's kind to them though, if a little awkward.

post-accident, corey avoids kids as much as possible. he's no more mean to them, but seeing kids just brings back too many memories of the accident and also it just is not good to be seen near kids when you're regularly called a kid killer in public.

corey never wanted his own kids. maybe in some half-baked daydream he thought about a life of college, then a salary job and marriage and 2.5 kids, but i don't think he ever took it seriously.

part of him kind of wants the chance to be a better parent than his ever were, but he also worries that he'd just fuck his kids up like his parents did him. maybe he'd be unable to break the cycle (no matter how badly he wanted to) and be destined to become a helicopter parent -- trying his best to protect his child but ultimately smothering them.

to be honest though, i think his idea of love is so skewed towards obsession, that a kid would just get in the way. he wants to be the only person his s/o loves, and they will be the only person he loves in return, a baby is going to take that love away from him.

How badly do they want to reach their end goal? 

at one point, all corey wanted was to go to college and get out of his house, out of haddonfield. he wanted that more than anything else, and if he just worked hard enough, for just a little bit longer, he'd make it. if he were in a better position (more supportive family, better socio-economic status) his goal would be much easier to attain, but if he did have those benefits, would he feel so strongly about that goal?

i feel like even though college is his way out, corey requires and enjoys mental/intellectual stimulation enough that he would want to go to college anyway, even if things were better for him at home.

post-accident, he doesn't have a goal at all beyond surviving, and even then we see his commitment to that goal is pretty tenuous.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? 

ahh well if you read my hcs about corey's sexuality, you would already know. but that will not stop me repeating those hcs here.

corey doesn't really consciously label his sexuality, but if he was asked point blank i think he could probably connect himself with bisexuality, but he's way more of a euphemism person -- "swing both ways".