#can you tell I have no idea how to write endings?

[taradactyls]

I think the one I see this most strongly with is Pamela; Or, Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson.

It's hard to read in the modern day. Pamela is a servant girl who spends a lot of time trying not to be raped by her employer, who eventually kidnaps her, and the only other woman in a position to aid her actively helps the attempted rapist to assault her in various ways. At one point she holds Pamela down in bed so it can happen (apparently the woman is this awful because she's an atheist). At another time the employer actively says that he would've continued and actually raped her if she kept fighting him, it was only because Pamela fainted that he stopped the attempt. She woke up from that attempt with her stays (underwear) cut up.

Pamela ends up marrying this man, after realising she has fallen in love with him, who is then 'reformed' by her 'goodness.'

It's meant to be a happy and uplifting tale. Obviously, to us, it's more of a horror story.

We see the victim blame in 'if you'd kept fighting you would've been raped' and also know that being unconscious actually makes you more at risk, and understand that a woman who eventually gave in to her master's advances is not any less 'good' for fearing being violently raped (or worse) if she continued protesting. We are less likely to believe people can be so entirely reformed by the 'virtue' of others, and see a man who would take advantage of power dynamics like that as bad even if he wasn't so aggressive in his advances. There are no real consequences for his crimes and continued harassment of a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD in his employ and who had zero protection or options. It's just all round horrid to our modern eyes.

But in many ways it was actually progressive for the time.

Pamela is a servant who ends the book married (not mistress to) a gentleman with an estate and eventually being accepted and adored by the land owning class. This is a rise of a magnitude far higher than Elizabeth marrying Mr Darcy, Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester, or even Cinderella as she was highborn, and was really making the case that servant women could and do have as much inherent worth as gentlewomen by birth. For how classist 1740 England was, that's a controversial take.

And though it's considered a backwards view now, this was the first novel/work which was really reaching out to lower-class women and saying 'your virtue is worth as much as upper-class women.' I dislike the whole concept of sexual virtue and disagree that Pamela's virtue would be lost through rape, but the point remains that this book was making a case for greater equality between classes in a time where the ruling class relied on being considered naturally better by birth and chosen by god to rule. The novel was criticised for exactly this.

Not only that, but by promoting virginity, he was also championing a woman's right to say no. Pamela's ability and decision to refuse is upheld both positively and as what should have been the final word. The male main character only becomes a 'good' person once he truly understands and respects that. An idea only becomes outdated once the societal framework supporting the status quo has changed, and Samuel Richardson was writing in a time where a servant girl (or any woman really, for instance marital rape wouldn't become a crime for another 250 years) who refused her master's advances would have little recourse or sympathy if he didn't respect that no. This novel was telling all those girls your sexual autonomy is worth fighting for... you're worth fighting for.

And, though we see that Pamela's abuser essentially gets what he wanted and gets off scot-free (an illness and a change of heart isn't going to fly with a judge, you douche), it was revolutionary for the time in that it's told from the victim's perspective as a horrible series of events. These acts, many of which were common place and not illegal (some even actively considered romantic) at the time, was a criticism of many masculine behaviours and championed the woman's/victim's perspective. It drew attention to what we now consider domestic violence and abuse of power. Though we might argue about his methods (a minority of contemporary readers viewed the novel as salacious because of the inclusion of the assault scenes) the author's intent was to actively give moral instruction into proper domestic behaviour. Which, aside from 'sexually assaulting your employees is bad' does also include less radical and actively harmful views such as 'be loyal and loving to your employers no matter what.' Historical novels are a mixed bag like that, but he was still advocating for mutual social contracts towards each other, and rejecting the idea that the rich men who ruled the world could do whatever they wanted. He was speaking for the powerless against those in power.

I'll probably never read the book again, it was too uncomfortable for me, but without an understanding of the time it was written it would feel like gratuitous assault and a glorification of abusive relationships, when really, it was the exact opposite. We're just lucky enough to live in a society where many of his arguments have been accepted both socially and legally for so long that it's hard to imagine a case ever needed to be made in their favour.

tbh nothing frustrates me more then when people brush off classics like pride and prejudice or jane eyre because they don’t fit into today’s modern standards of feminism and social justice etc.

remember that these novels were published in the 19th century. and that some of the things that were written in these books may seem trivial to us today but would have absolutely fucking shook readers in the victorian era

like,,,,,elizabeth rejecting mr collins because she doesn’t love him even though it would have been considered her duty in her family to marry him? or jane eyre not agreeing to marry mr rochester unless it was on her own terms? hell even anne brontë wrote a lesser known novel about a wife leaving her abusive husband with her five year old son to live a better life?? do y’all realize how unheard of that would be in the 1800′s?? where women were considered more of a commodity than actual human beings??

even though they might not be up to todays standards of modern feminism and romance, they were still HUGE building blocks for equality for that time period. so if you’re a reader who says to themselves ‘I read classics with modern standards applied and I can’t get past that’ then you are most likely going to be disappointed when reading classics and not fully understand their significance to that time period 

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[mingi-s-dimples]

Under their control - sanhwa

KINKTOBER DAY 22, REQ. BY anon

~"Would love a mommy!hwa x female reader x daddy!San fic! Hwa's not female, he just has a maternal vibe/ aura. The reader lives with them and is their (human)pet. They like to dress the reader in cute lingerie and collar and leash. A fic where the reader is getting punished for something (you can decide what) and they keep denying her orgasm. Some size kink, double penetration, fake sympathy, pet names. Thank you!"

pairing: mommy soft dom!seonghwa x fem reader x daddy rough dom!san

genre: 18+, filth, mommy/daddy bdsm trope

summary: you get on San's nerves again... which has always proved to not be a good idea.

wc: 7.1k

warnings: harsh/rough dom!san, soft dom!seonghwa, daddy!san, mommy!seonghwa, denied orgasms, pussy eating, marking, making out, double penetration, collar and leash, slight size kink, fake sympathy, lots of cum in the end, a crumb of aftecare in the end, teasing, pet names (kitten, darling, sweetheart..), ass spanking, unprotected, completely consensual, blowjob, handjob, for sure forgot something.. will edit 'warnings' later.

Author's Note: I looveeed writing this one... you can tell by the number of words LMAO. I hope you like it anon.. I'm sorry it took me fucking ages (I'm sorry to everyone ajsnda). I hope y'all like it <3 i love youuu

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the members.

The sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the shared bedroom, casting soft golden streaks across the plush duvet. The atmosphere was a mixture of warmth and tranquility, the faint scent of lavender lingering from the candle Seonghwa had lit the previous night. You stirred, shifting against the soft bedding, your cheek brushing the smooth pillowcase.

“Good morning, baby,” came Seonghwa’s voice, gentle and melodic, as he entered the room. His arms cradled a tray holding a cup of tea and a small plate with neatly arranged fruit slices. “It’s time to wake up.”  

You blinked, squinting against the morning light, and smiled sleepily at the sight of him. He was always the first to greet you in the mornings, his nurturing presence like a soothing balm. He set the tray down on the nightstand, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead.  

“How did my little one sleep?” he asked, brushing stray strands of hair from your face.  

“Good,” you murmured, your voice still groggy. You nuzzled into his touch, relishing the tenderness he always exuded.  

“You have a busy day ahead,” he reminded, his lips curving into a small smile. “San wants you ready and downstairs in half an hour. You know how he feels about being late.”  

San. Just the mention of him sent a small shiver down your spine—not entirely out of fear, but because of the way his presence filled every room he walked into. Where Seonghwa was soft and soothing, San was sharp, commanding. You felt the dichotomy of their dynamics every day, a constant interplay of comfort and authority.  

“I’ll get up,” you promised, sitting up slowly and letting the blankets pool around your waist.  

Seonghwa nodded, pleased with your obedience. “Good girl,” he said softly.  

—

By the time you reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee had filled the space. San was already there, standing by the counter in a crisp black shirt that fit him a little too perfectly. He glanced up when you entered, his dark eyes immediately locking onto you.  

“You’re late,” he said, his tone even but with that familiar edge of authority.  

Your heart sank. You’d only taken a few extra minutes, but with San, those small delays were never overlooked.  

“I—I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, casting a quick glance at Seonghwa, who had taken a seat by the table and was watching the interaction unfold with a faint smile.  

San’s brow arched, and he stepped closer, his presence looming in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Didn’t mean to?” he repeated, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Sweetheart, how many times have we talked about this?”  

You fidgeted, your fingers twisting together. “A lot,” you admitted quietly.  

“And yet here you are.” He reached out, lifting your chin with two fingers so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “What am I supposed to do with you, kitten? Hmm?”  

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.  

San’s lips curved into a smirk that was anything but kind. “Oh, darling. You’ll be sorry, alright?”  

Seonghwa let out a soft chuckle from his seat, his voice lilting with amusement. “Be gentle, San. You know how sensitive she is.”  

San shot him a look, but it was devoid of any real irritation. “Oh, I’ll be gentle,” he said, his attention returning to you. “At least at first.”  

— 

The mistake had been minor in the grand scheme of things, but San never let the small things slide. It was his way of keeping you in line, as he so often reminded you.  

“Upstairs. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm.  

You hesitated for a split second, but the sharpness in his eyes spurred you into motion. You turned and hurried up the stairs, your heart pounding in anticipation.  

By the time you reached the bedroom, you could already hear his measured footsteps behind you. Seonghwa had stayed behind in the kitchen, but you knew he would come up eventually. He always liked to play the role of the sympathetic observer or maybe join in, offering soft words of comfort after San was done.  

San closed the door behind him with a deliberate click, the sound sending a jolt of nervous energy through you.  

“On the bed,” he instructed, his voice low.  

You obeyed, climbing onto the bed and sitting back on your heels. Your collar—a delicate, silver chain adorned with a small charm—felt heavier around your neck under his intense gaze. You'd always wear it whenever you were at home for a couple of days, free of work.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” he asked, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of the bed.  

“Yes,” you replied softly.  

“Yes, what?”  

“Yes, Daddy.”  

His smirk widened, pleased by your submission. “That’s right, baby girl.”  

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to trail a finger along the edge of your collar. “This little thing,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soft, “means you follow the rules. Doesn’t it?”  

You nodded, your breath hitching as his finger traced down to the hollow of your throat.  

“And what happens when you break the rules?” he pulls you by yourbneck

“I get punished,” you whispered.  

“That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with false affection. “At least you remember that much.”

San’s hand moved down to your waist, his grip firm but not harsh. He turned you slightly, positioning you so that you were kneeling on the bed with your back to him. Before you could anticipate his next move, the sharp sound of his palm meeting your ass filled the room, making you gasp.  

“Late again,” he said, his tone a mixture of mock exasperation and amusement. “You never learn, do you?”  

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling.  

“Sorry?” San repeated, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on the spot he’d just slapped. “Do you think that makes up for wasting my time, kitten?”  

Your head hung low, shame and guilt swirling in your chest. “No, Daddy.”  

“Hmm, no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, the false sympathy in his voice sending shivers down your spine. His other hand gripped your chin, tilting your face back toward him. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me why you think you deserve my forgiveness.”  

The words caught in your throat, your eyes darting toward the door as if silently begging for intervention. As if on cue, the door opened, and Seonghwa stepped in, his presence a balm to the tension that had built in the room.  

“San,” he said softly, his melodic voice breaking through the thick atmosphere. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on her?”  

San didn’t loosen his grip on you, but his lips twitched in a faint smirk. “A little harsh? Maybe. But I like to think it gets the point across.”  

Seonghwa crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was trying not to spook you. He came up behind you, his warm hands resting gently on your shoulders. “Our little one just needs guidance,” he murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Not to be broken.”  

The contrast between them was striking. Where San’s touch was firm and commanding, Seonghwa’s was a soothing, grounding you even as your nerves buzzed. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into his chest from San's grip and you felt a small measure of safety return.  

San clicked his tongue, his amusement clear. “You spoil her too much, Hwa. That’s why she thinks she can get away with being late.”  

Seonghwa chuckled, his voice vibrating against your back. “Or maybe you’re too quick to punish, San. Have you thought of that?”  

San’s smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his hands slipping to your thighs, squeezing just enough to draw your attention back to him. “I think you’re too soft,” he teased, his gaze meeting Seonghwa’s over your shoulder. “But if you think you can handle her better, why don’t you join me?”  

Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as Seonghwa’s grip around you tightened, his chest pressing more firmly against your back.  

“Join you?” Seonghwa repeated, his tone deceptively light. “You mean to help her, not overwhelm her, right?”  

San shrugged, his hands roaming up your sides with an air of nonchalance. “Depends on how much help she needs.”  

Seonghwa’s lips brushed your temple as he whispered, “Do you trust me, little one?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.  

“Good,” he said, his hands now guiding yours to rest on your thighs, keeping you still. “Let’s remind you how much you’re cared for.”  

San leaned in, his gaze softening just enough to show a flicker of affection beneath his teasing. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re lucky we’re patient,” he said, though his smirk made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.  

San’s fingers found the hem of your oversized shirt, his grip impatient as he tugged it over your head. The motion was swift, almost rough, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasped softly, instinctively moving to cover yourself, but San’s firm hand stopped you.  

“Ah, ah,” he chided, his dark eyes glittering with authority. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”  

You swallowed hard, your hands falling back to your sides as you trembled under his gaze. His fingers brushed against your skin, cold against the heat that seemed to radiate from you. With deliberate slowness, he reached behind you to unhook your bra, the straps slipping down your shoulders like a whisper.  

Seonghwa, still behind you, caught the discarded garment and leaned down to pick up a delicate, semi-transparent lingerie set that had been neatly laid out on the dresser. His touch was in stark contrast to San’s—gentle, almost reverent, as he guided the soft fabric up your arms.  

“This suits her,” Seonghwa said, his voice low and melodic, as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders with care. The material clung to your body in a way that felt both innocent and intimate, the faint pink hue of the lingerie complementing the flush spreading across your skin.  

San stepped back slightly, his sharp gaze roaming over you, taking in every detail. A low chuckle escaped him as his eyes traveled downward. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “looks like someone’s enjoying herself a little too much.”  

Your face burned as you followed his gaze, horrified to see the evidence of your arousal dampening the linen beneath you.  

“Tell me, kitten,” San teased, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, his smirk growing wider, “is this because of me?” He tilted his head, his voice a mocking coo. “Are you turned on by how rough I am with you?”  

You bit your lip, your body betraying you as another wave of heat pooled in your belly. “Y-Yes,” you admitted, your voice small and shaky, tinged with a whiny neediness you couldn’t control.  

“Of course you are,” San said, his laughter quiet but sharp, as though the answer had only confirmed what he already knew. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear as he murmured, “You like being my good little toy, don’t you?”  

Before you could respond, Seonghwa’s warm lips pressed against the back of your neck, trailing down to your shoulders. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was trying to soothe the trembling mess San had made of you.  

“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa whispered against your skin, his hands coming to rest gently on your waist. “You don’t have to be afraid, little one. I’ve got you.”  

San stood, his presence still looming even as he moved away. The rustling of fabric drew your attention, and you peeked through lowered lashes to see him unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were unhurried, calculated, the sharp lines of his body coming into view with every undone button.  

“Don’t get too comfortable,” San said, his tone laced with warning as he tossed the shirt aside. “I’m not done with you yet.”  

But even as he spoke, Seonghwa’s soothing touch and soft murmurs anchored you, his lips never ceasing their gentle exploration of your back. The contrast between them—San’s rough edges and Seonghwa’s tender warmth—left you suspended in a whirlwind of sensations, utterly at their mercy.

San's intense gaze darkened as he stepped forward. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as though you weighed nothing. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, but San gave you no time to process. He pressed you against the cool wall, the hard surface grounding you against the heat of his body.  

Leaning in, he captured your mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss, his lips demanding as they moved against yours. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and his tongue claimed you with a roughness that made your head spin. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shoulders as if anchoring yourself to him. His muscular body made you feel to tiny and insignificant in front of him… which you absolutely loved.

Behind you, Seonghwa had risen from the bed. His dark eyes lingered on you, and there was no mistaking the tension in his posture—or the strain evident against the fabric of his pants. 

San broke the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. “You’re shaking, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me like this?”  

Before you could answer, he shifted his hold on you, lowering you slowly against him. The hard line of his arousal pressed into you, even through the layers of fabric separating you, drawing a soft, involuntary whine from your throat.  

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone mocking but laced with something deeper. “You can’t even control yourself, can you?”  

“I…” You tried to form words, but the sensation of him, combined with the lingering warmth of Seonghwa’s gaze, made coherent thought impossible.  

As if sensing your overwhelmed state, Seonghwa stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms before trailing down to your sides. His lips found the sensitive curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses there that sent shivers through your body.  

San’s smirk widened as his hand began to wander, sliding down between your legs with deliberate slowness. The anticipation built with every second, your breath hitching as he teased you with light, fleeting touches.  

“You’re so sensitive,” he observed, his tone equal parts amusement and pride. “Does this drive you crazy, kitten?”  

You nodded weakly, your knees threatening to buckle under the combined assault of San’s rough, confident movements and Seonghwa’s tender, reassuring touch.  

San’s fingers pressed inside your cunt more firmly now, the motion drawing soft, breathy sounds from you. “Of course, it does,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You love when I take control, don’t you?”  

“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as the sensations began to overwhelm you.  

San's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips latching onto the soft skin of your collarbone. He kissed with purpose, his mouth warm and insistent, leaving behind marks that you knew would bloom into faint bruises later. Each kiss was a deliberate claim, his teeth grazing your skin, tongue soothing over where he’d nipped.  

You gasped, tilting your head instinctively to give him more access, but San wasn’t gentle—he didn’t need to be. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his lips trailed upwards to the curve of your neck. Each mark he left ignited sparks that coursed through your body, a reminder of his overwhelming presence.  

“Don’t squirm,” San muttered against your skin, his voice low and commanding. His teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shudder.  

In your haze, you barely registered the soft rustle of fabric as San’s hand moved lower. With calculated ease, he discarded the last barrier between his body and yours, the subtle shift in his stance making his actions unmistakable.  

Seonghwa’s lips pressed softly to the top of your head, his voice like silk as he whispered, “Breathe, let him take care of you.”  

But San’s idea of care was far from gentle. He straightened, his chest brushing against yours as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes burned with intensity, the smirk on his lips equal parts teasing and predatory.  

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his tone rough but quiet, meant only for you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you securely against him.  

San's hand traveled between your legs and as his fingers found their way to your folds, he pumped them in a couple of times, your head lolling back at the feeling. When he decided that you were prepped enough - which you weren't, but he was damn impatient - he lowered you on his cock, fully thrusting it in.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery. “Barely holding yourself together, aren’t you, kitten?”  

You whimpered softly, your lips parted as you tried to form words, but the overwhelming sensations left you mute.  

“Come on,” San coaxed, his tone sharp yet teasing. “Use your words. What’s the matter? Too much for you already?”  

“D-Daddy…” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you gazed up at him, your hands weakly clutching at his shoulders.  

San let out a low chuckle, leaning back just enough to look you over, his smirk widening as he saw the dazed, almost helpless expression on your face. “Daddy, huh?” he repeated mockingly. “You think that’s going to make me go easy on you?”  

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head weakly, earning another sharp laugh from him.  

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone dripping with authority. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You like this, don’t you? Being so completely at my mercy?”  

You nodded hesitantly, and his smirk grew even more wicked.  

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Tell me how much you love it when Daddy takes control.”  

“I-I love it,” you stammered, your voice breaking under the weight of his dominance.  

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re such a mess for me, aren’t you? Completely ruined, and we’re not even done yet.”  

You whimpered again, your body trembling under his touch.  

“Pathetic,” he said with a smirk, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Completely pathetic, and yet you’re still begging for more. Aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but he heard it nonetheless.  

San leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near finished with you, kitten.” 

Seonghwa’s quiet observation eventually broke, his low, velvety voice cutting through the room. “What exactly do you have planned for her, San?” he asked, his tone calm and curious, though there was an underlying edge of amusement.  

San didn’t stop, his movements as deliberate and sharp as his personality. His grip tightened on your hips as he responded, his voice coming out in low, ragged breaths between his thrusts. “Oh, I have plans,” he said, his smirk audible even without seeing his face.  

Seonghwa raised a brow, stepping closer now, his own hand still lazily tracing over himself, watching you keenly. “Care to elaborate?”  

San let out a soft chuckle, his breath ghosting against your ear as he answered, “I plan to ruin her.” His words were teasing, almost cruel in their intent. “She’s going to beg for me, for everything. More than she’s ever begged before.”  

Your body trembled at his words, the promise in them sending a fresh wave of tension through you. San leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, his voice dropping lower. “And just when she thinks I’ll give her what she wants…” He paused, his grip on you tightening briefly for emphasis. “…I won’t.”  

Seonghwa’s smirk grew, his gaze flicking between you and San with quiet interest. “Cruel, as always,” 

San chuckled again, this time with more satisfaction, his rhythm unrelenting as he added, “She likes it. Don’t you, kitten?”  

Your response was a breathless whimper, your head lolling against San’s shoulder as your body surrendered to the overwhelming mix of sensations. 

“Let’s see how patient are you, my love… are you going to be more patient than I was?” San cooed, holding you close to him as he pulled out and dropped you in the bed powerfully, towering over you. “Let’s see if it was worth being late, darling.” he leaned in for a kiss, then raised your hips above his, letting them rest. 

San’s gaze bore into yours, the stormy intensity in his eyes enough to make your breath hitch. He didn’t move right away, letting the tension stretch thin in the air between you, his hand firm on your hip as he held you in place. His lips, so close to yours, hovered without touching, teasing you with the ghost of a promise.  

“You’ve been testing me all week, haven’t you?” San murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine.

He trailed his hand down, the roughness of his palm against your skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of his words. But just as you leaned into him, aching for more, San pulled back slightly, his smirk sharp and deliberate.  

Seonghwa’s soft chuckle reached your ears, his tone laced with amused approval. “You’re relentless, San,” he remarked, though his attention never strayed far from you. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice, as if he was enjoying watching the dynamic unfold.  

San glanced at Seonghwa briefly, his lips quirking in a sly grin before his focus returned to you. “Relentless,” he echoed, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “But that’s what she likes, isn’t it?” His fingers tightened against your skin just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

You barely managed a breathy response, your body trembling with anticipation. San tilted his head, his lips finally brushing yours in a kiss that was as fleeting as it was intoxicating.  

“Patience, kitten,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’ll get what you want... but only when I decide you’ve earned it.”

San’s smirk deepened as he glanced at Seonghwa, his sharp gaze glinting with mischief. “Why don’t you join us?” he murmured, his voice dripping with invitation and challenge. 

Seonghwa hesitated for only a moment, his piercing eyes locking with San’s before sliding down to meet yours. There was something almost reverent in his expression as he moved closer, his hand brushing over your arm to guide you gently yet firmly.  

“Lean back,” Seonghwa instructed softly, his voice a rich contrast to San’s rough edges. His hands guided you until you were resting against him, his firm chest a solid support behind you. His thighs framed yours, his presence grounding you even as your heart raced.  

San hummed approvingly, his smirk never faltering as he knelt between your legs, his gaze intense as it roamed over you. “Perfect,” he muttered, his hands tracing up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch a stark contrast to Seonghwa’s steady, grounding hold.  

Seonghwa’s fingers brushed over your shoulders, his breath warm against your temple as he murmured, “Relax, love.” The soothing timbre of his voice made it impossible not to sink into him, even as San’s movements sent sparks racing through you.  

San’s lips found your thighs, his kisses starting feather-light before growing more deliberate. His chin grazed your skin as he nipped at the sensitive flesh, each touch both a tease and a promise. He looked up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget this.”  

Your breath hitched as Seonghwa’s hands slid down your arms, his grip firm yet reassuring. “Breathe,” he murmured, his voice steady, as though coaxing you to surrender completely to the moment.  

San’s lips moved closer to your cunt, but he paused just before reaching where you wanted him most, his smirk widening at your involuntary whimper. “Not so fast, kitten,” he teased, his voice a rough purr. “I’m just getting started.”

When his mouth finally started to suck on your clit, a sharp gasp escaped you, your back arching instinctively against Seonghwa’s chest. San didn’t hold back, his lips moving with deliberate, hungry intent as he ate you out, sending shockwaves through your entire body.  

His roughness was intoxicating, every motion designed to pull you deeper into the haze he was creating. He groaned softly against you, the vibration adding an unexpected layer of pleasure that made you tremble.  

Seonghwa’s breath hitched behind you, his hard cock, undeniable where you were pressed against him. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you writhed under San’s relentless attention. “You’re driving her mad,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with something between awe and desire.  

San pulled back just enough to respond, his lips glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin. “That’s the point,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. Without waiting for a reply, he delved back in, his tongue pressing against you with a roughness that had your fingers clawing at Seonghwa’s thighs for purchase.  

Every flick, every deliberate drag of San’s tongue against your clit, sent you spiraling further. He alternated between sucking on it and licking with a ferocity that made it impossible to hold still. Seonghwa’s grip tightened on you as if anchoring you to reality, his lips brushing your temple in an attempt to soothe the chaos San was stirring within you.  

“You’re so responsive,” San rasped against you between movements, his tone full of pride and teasing affection. “Just look at you… falling apart already.”  

You could barely process his words, the sensations too overwhelming, too consuming. The heat of Seonghwa’s body behind you and the rough, unrelenting intensity of San in front of you created a heady mix that left you utterly at their mercy.  

San abruptly pulled back, his lips glistening, leaving you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. The sudden absence of his touch was a shock, and you whimpered, your hips instinctively tilting forward to chase the sensation. His smirk was devastatingly smug as he leaned back on his knees, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb.  

“Not yet, kitten,” he drawled, his voice thick with command. “I told you, you don’t get to have it until I decide you’ve earned it.” His gaze flickered up to yours, dark and unyielding.  

You shook your head, defiance flickering through the haze of desire. “N-no,” you murmured, a stubborn edge creeping into your voice, even as your body trembled with need.  

San chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “No?” he repeated, his tone mocking, his grin widening as though you’d just issued him a delightful challenge. “How adorable. You think you’re in control here?”  

He reached out, his hand gripping your chin firmly, tilting your face toward him as he loomed closer. “Say it again,” he commanded softly, his tone laced with dangerous amusement.  

Before you could respond, San turned to Seonghwa, his voice shifting to a calm authority. “Seonghwa, get undressed and take her.”  

Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, his movements smooth and fluid as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. Unlike San’s intensity, there was a softness to him, a gentler energy that eased the tension coursing through you.  

“Come here,” Seonghwa murmured, his hands reaching for you as he effortlessly lifted you onto his lap. His touch was steady, his hands warm and soothing against your skin. Seated against him, his bare chest pressing into your back, the stark contrast between his tenderness and San’s roughness was grounding.  

San sat back on his heels, watching with a smirk that told you he wasn’t done playing with you yet. “Let’s see if she behaves better for you,” he teased, his tone dripping with dominance as his eyes stayed locked on yours. “But don’t go too soft, Hwa. She needs to learn what happens when she tries to defy me.”  

Seonghwa shifted beneath you, his hands steady on your hips as he aligned himself with your hole. His lips brushed against your shoulder, soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. “Relax for me, love,” he murmured, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.  

San, seated to the side, leaned back slightly, his hand lazily stroking himself, cock dripping with precum as his sharp eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of him. “That’s it, Hwa,” he purred.“Show her how gentle can still make her squirm.”  

Seonghwa’s movements were slow, deliberate, as though savoring every second of the moment. You shuddered at the sensation, your body caught between his tenderness and San’s burning gaze. San’s breath hitched audibly, a low groan escaping him as he watched, the sight clearly fueling his own pleasure.  

“You look so pretty like this,” San teased, his voice dripping with dominance. “Caught between us… exactly where you’re meant to be.”

Seonghwa’s pace grew more measured, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His fingers pressed into your hips, grounding you, his every movement pulling you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, anticipation building as you surrendered to the steady rhythm he set.  

Just as the high began to crest, San’s voice cut through the haze. “Stop.”  

The word was sharp, commanding, and immediate. Seonghwa stilled instantly, his hands retreating as he pulled out, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink.  

“No, please,” you begged, turning your desperate gaze to San. “Don’t stop now. Let me—please, I need to—”  

San leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he brushed his fingers along your cheek. “Need to?” he mused, his tone deceptively soft. “That’s rich, coming from someone who spent all week defying me. Do you think you’ve earned the right to finish?”  

You shook your head, swallowing the lump of frustration and desire in your throat. “I’ll do better, I swear.”  

San smirked, his hand tangling in your hair as he guided you to kneel on the edge of the bed. “You’ll prove that now,” he said smoothly, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “Open up.”  

You obeyed, lips parting as he slid himself past them, his cock heavy on your tongue. San’s groan was low, a sound of satisfaction as his hand held you steady. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling forward just enough to test your limits.  

Behind you, the bed shifted as Seonghwa moved into position, his hands caressing your waist before sliding lower, his warmth against you unmistakable. “Seonghwa… fuck her” San instructed, his voice deepening. “I want her to feel you stretch her out while she sucks me off”  

Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgment, his lips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved against you, his presence filling the space San had left. 

San tilted your chin up slightly, his movements patient but firm. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice a gentle command. “I want to see how much you enjoy this. How much you’re willing to give.”  

Your muffled whine vibrated against San’s cock as you tried to keep your focus, but the overwhelming combination of sensations was too much to bear. 

San smirked, clearly noticing your struggle, and his grip in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head for better leverage. “You’re distracted,” he growled. “Let me help you focus.”  

Without warning, San thrust his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat. The sudden intrusion made you gag, your throat tightening reflexively around him as your hands gripped his thighs for stability. San groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through the room.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so well, even when you’re choking on it. Maybe you’re learning after all.”  

Behind you, Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tightened, his movements stuttering as he felt your body react to San’s forcefulness. Your whimper against San’s cock sent a shiver through Seonghwa, but he stilled himself, obeying the unspoken command to pause until San decided you’d earned more.  

Your throat burned as San held himself deep, his hand flexing against the back of your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t dare pull away. His dominance was intoxicating, even in its intensity.  

When San finally relented, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, his thumb stroked your cheek. “Not bad,” he mused, tilting his head. “But you’re not there yet.”  

Seonghwa’s soft whisper reached your ear, grounding you as your chest heaved. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder.  

San’s sharp gaze flicked to Seonghwa, and he gave a single, measured nod. “Now.”  

Seonghwa didn’t need further instruction. He resumed his movements, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that made your toes curl. His groan was soft, almost reverent, as he leaned closer, his chest pressed against your back.  

San’s grip in your hair loosened slightly, guiding you back to him. “You’re going to make up for every moment you disobeyed this week,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “And if you’re good enough, maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you finish this time.” 

“M-ngh, San!” your moan revrebrating through his cock. You steadied yourself and held onto his hips, catching your breath as Seonghwa started to fully thrust into you again. 

“What?” he stopped for a second. 

You pulled off San, tears streaming down your cheeks, voice trembling and high-pitched, “Please, San, please! I can’t—please don’t stop again—I need it so bad, I’m begging you!”  

San, gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes sharp and unyielding, “You’re begging now? After everything this week? After all the times you ignored me, pushed me, defied me?” he lets out a low, mocking laugh, “And now you think whining like this will get you what you want?”  

“I’ll do anything—anything! I swear! Just don’t stop again, please, please!” you begged abd begged, looking up at him in the eyes.

He brushed his thumb over your trembling lips, “Anything, huh? You’re pathetic, you know that? Look at you—crying, shaking, acting like you have no control. But fine. You want a chance? Let’s make a deal.”  

“Yes—yes! Anything..."

“Then.. you’ve got two minutes to make me finish. Two minutes. If you can do that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish, too. But if you fail? You’ll go the rest of the night without cumming. Do you understand me?”  

"Y-yes...yes!" you whined out.

“Good. Then stop wasting time and prove to me you’re worth it.”  San then grabbed you by your hair, tangling his head and pulling you harshly to his cock.

You position yourself between San’s legs, wasting no time as your hand wraps firmly around his base. Without hesitation, you take his cock into your mouth, deep and fast, like it’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. The warmth and wetness make him groan immediately, his head tilting back as he struggles to keep up with the sheer intensity of your actions.  

Your lips tighten around him, sliding down as far as you can go, your tongue pressing firmly against the underside, hitting the sensitive spots that makes his thighs tense. You don’t hold back..  your movements are fast, relentless, and filled with purpose. Your hand follows where your mouth leaves off, stroking him with a slick, twisting motion, matching the rhythm as your head bobs in a steady, fervent pace.  

You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight suction that pulls another deep groan from him, his hands gripping your hair as his control slips. The sounds you make are shamelessly messy—wet, eager, and desperate—as you take him in deeper with every motion, your throat flexing to handle more.  

His breathing is ragged now, his hips shifting, but you keep control, doubling down as you focus on the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it in quick, firm strokes before sliding down again, taking him to the base, choking on the tip. You whine softly, the vibrations sending a jolt through him, his voice breaking as he whines out, his body tightening.  

“Ah, fuck… “ he moaned out, his back lolling back in pleasure. 

Let's not forget that Seonghwa was fucking you relentlessly from behind, your walls clenching onto him as he gripped your waist. He was close, you knew it. Breaths ragged near your ear and his hands were holding tight on your skin, but you needed to focus on San… Seonghwa would cum by himself only by fucking you. But San.. oh god, he'd always destroy you before his pleasure. 

“Just like that, kitten..” he said and gripped his hands better in your hair, pulling you as close as possible. Your nose hit his pelvis, throat sore and gagging on his cock. He stood like that for a couple of moments and thrusted slightly even deeper, to which he came right down your throat. You choked on his huge load and pulled back, his cock resting in your tongue as silky white cum was still dripping heavily from the tip. When he was done, he pulled back and lifted your chin, to make you look at him.

“Swallow. Everything.” you did as told and then as he hummed in satisfaction. 

“Now now… Seonghwa, would you mind switching places? Your thrusts are not roug enough, I'm afraid…” San said and lifted you up. In one swift motion he sat you onto his lap, your chest against his. 

Seonghwa’s hands slid down your back as he stepped behind you, his movements deliberate and steady. His grip settled firmly on your hips, fingers splaying over your flushed skin before drifting lower to your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh with a firm but gentle touch, his lips grazing the back of your neck in contrast to San’s unrelenting dominance.

San, already seated with you straddling his lap, tightened his hold on your waist. His fingers pressed into the soft, reddened skin, a mark of his earlier fervor. His eyes burned into yours as he shifted slightly, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t forget who you’re really here for,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

With a single, precise motion, San thrust into you fully, his body melding with yours as a broken cry escaped your lips. Seonghwa, aligning himself carefully, followed suit, his movements smoother but no less intense. The contrast between them was electrifying—San’s rough, possessive thrusts pairing with Seonghwa’s controlled rhythm to drive you higher, the two of them moving in tandem as if sharing one unspoken goal.  

San tilted your chin up with one hand, his lips brushing against yours briefly before he spoke. “You’re doing so well, kitten,” he murmured, though his words carried a teasing edge. “But you’re not done yet.”  

Seonghwa groaned behind you, his fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts became sharper, his restraint slipping. The three of you moved in perfect synchronicity, the overwhelming sensations building rapidly until you could no longer hold back. Your cries filled the room as the tension snapped, your body trembling violently as the release overtook you.  

Seonghwa followed closely, his grip tightening as he buried himself fully, his soft groan of pleasure vibrating against your shoulder. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly, his breath warm against your skin, a grounding contrast to the whirlwind you were caught in.  

But San wasn’t finished. His grip on your waist grew firmer as he quickened his pace, chasing his own high even as your overstimulated body quivered against him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he pushed you further, your senses overwhelmed.  

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as his movements became erratic. “Give me everything.”  

With one final, deep thrust, San found his release, his second high hitting him harder than the first. The intensity of the moment pushed you over the edge again, a sudden, powerful wave washing over you as your body reacted uncontrollably. You gasped as the sensation hit, your body trembling as you squirted, the overstimulation wringing every last drop of energy from you.  

San held you close, his hands firm but steady as he rode out his high, his breath ragged against your neck. “Perfect,” he murmured finally, his tone softening as he kissed your temple. 

As Seonghwa finally pulled out, a soft groan leaving his lips, he shifted to gather you into his arms. His movements were gentle, cradling you as though you were made of glass, his lips pressing against your temple with quiet affection. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.  

San leaned forward, his hand stroking down your back in deliberate, slow motions. A light pat followed, though it carried a teasing edge as he smirked. “Let this be a lesson, kitten,” he said, his tone playful yet firm. “If you ever decide to test me like that again… this is exactly what will happen. Only next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”  

You gave a soft whimper of acknowledgment, too exhausted to do much else, and Seonghwa chuckled behind you. “You’re relentless, San,” he said, though his words carried a fond amusement. His gaze flicked between you and San. “She needs some care now, not another lecture. Why don’t you take her to get cleaned up?”  

San hummed, his grin softening just a fraction as he leaned in to press a kiss against your damp hair. “Fair enough,” he replied before slipping his arms around you, seamlessly lifting you from Seonghwa’s hold and pulling you against his chest. His grip was firm yet comforting, holding you close as he stood.  

“You were perfect today, kitten,” San murmured, his tone uncharacteristically tender as he carried you toward the bathroom. His fingers traced gentle patterns against your back as he continued, “Every second of it. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”  

The warmth of his words and his embrace cocooned you, easing the lingering tension in your body. As San carried you, you caught Seonghwa’s soft smile in the corner of your vision, his quiet presence a steady reassurance even as exhaustion began to pull you under.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1

[tenitchyfingers]

Well, AO3’s whole deal is allowing people to post their art without forcing them to censor themselves. Like afaik as long as you aren’t posting CSEM of genuinely harmful content like that and trying to make money off of fanwork (which is a legal issue wrt copyright laws) then you can post whatever you want. All you have to do is tag your work appropriately and make sure to put your tws/cws in there including content related to major character deaths, strong violence and sexual assault. And then yeah every now and then there’ll be the usual puritan trying to start a crusade, but AO3 is the last place where you would get it.

Now I know it can still be intimidating, but if you want an ulterior layer of protection you can turn on the option to only let registered people leave comments, you can delete comments and you can also shut all comments off by default. So actually AO3 offers so much control wrt how people interact with you and your work.

And then again, you may also decide to write a story only for yourself, or only for a closed off group of people. You can just share a text file with a group of friends. That’s how fanfic communities started, actually. But if your reason for using AI is fear you might get attacked, you’re gonna get attacked anyway. If someone wants to be a dickhead like I was just a couple of comments ago, they will. If you want to share your ideas, that’s part of the deal - people will have opinions about it. And once more, if you don’t feel safe sharing a story you can just write it for yourself. For your own joy and entertainment. I mean I don’t know ass about game development, but I assume you also have to work with problems, assets that won’t work the way you want them to, things that you notice could be better, angles to your narration you didn’t even think of at first, right? And then maybe you started out with an idea, you worked on it and then realized the game you were making ended up being very different from what you had in mind. Maybe more engaging. Maybe something you enjoy more. And writing works like that too. If a computer writes a story for you, you won’t get to see your brain child grow to become something completely different from what you’d envisioned at first, entirely because of the processes your mind engaged in while working on it; on your taste, on the themes you care about and enjoy. And that’s such a satisfying part of the process in any medium: surprising yourself. Saying “huh I didn’t think I’d end up doing this with this story but it seems to work” and getting your hands dirty again.

And if people have a problem with your fun, you can just tell them to fuck off, block them and keep on writing your thing. Do not let their pearl clutching affect the way you tell stories.

just saw a fanfic on ao3 have a dedication for chatgpt... that section is meant for your horny perverted mutual who proofread your work, you violated sacred law and you will be torn apart and laid bare btw

[mooshkat]

i haven't watched the episode. don't really care to. but apparently eddie is looking at houses in el paso?? and i've always related way too much to buck and the way people in his life leave so much so.

listening to 'please don't go' by abbey glover while writing this is devastating btw. highly recommend to add to the hurt.

tw for suicide attempt.

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and then just...doesn't go home. He doesn't think as he drives, taking turns and just alert enough to be safe on the road, but honestly? He has no fucking idea how he ends up in the mountains, parking in the small dirt lot at the end of the hiking trail.

Everything feels numb. Static fills his brain and spreads down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

He turns off the Jeep and takes out the keys. Drops them carelessly into the cup holder.

He should've seen this coming, right? People leave; they always have, and always will. Everyone from his own sister to his ex-girlfriends, and his ex-boyfriend. Now his best friend.

There's just something buried deep into his very being, something built into the coding for Evan Buckley, that makes people leave him. No matter how much he clings and wants to fight for it, they'll walk away from him and his love.

It's him, it has to be.

Buck leaves behind his wallet, his keys, his work bag. Everything is left in the Jeep except for his phone, because no matter how much people leave him with barely a goodbye, it goes against everything that makes Buck, well, Buck to do it himself.

He knows this trail. Tommy and he have been on it before, once or twice after Buck dragged him along with him. They'd stopped at the top, where a small cliff overlooks the beautiful scenery with LA off in the far distance.

He remembers the way Tommy pushed him against a tree and sank to his knees, looking up at Buck with an adorable, bright grin with scrunches up his nose. Buck misses that grin fiercely.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Buck starts his walk. He doesn't go up the mountain with a specific plan in mind, didn't wake up to take Eddie to the airport at four in the morning, and think I'm going to kill myself today, but the higher he gets on the trail, the more he knows.

It's early enough that he has the trail to himself. That's good. It's not, he needs to turn around and go back to the Jeep, go home but his feet keep moving him up, up, up. There's nobody around who will have to see what he's about to do and be traumatized by it.

He's seen more than his share of deaths through work, he knows how badly it can fuck you up. He doesn't want to do that to someone else.

When he gets to the top, Buck stops and just breathes. The air is fresher up here, cleaner. It makes some of the buzzing in his head quiet down. He can feel his fingers again, feel the way his heart pounds from the cardio workout of climbing, and make his hands throb.

He walks to the edge of the cliff and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. There's a boulder a few feet away from the edge that holds memories of him leaning back against it as Tommy kisses him, holding Buck's hips with hands hot enough to brand him.

His very soul feels branded by Tommy. His chest aches every day, making his stomach sink with a homesick feeling he hasn't had since before he moved to LA. His apartment is still full of the baked goods that he creates every time he has to try to not call or text him.

He doesn't stop himself from calling him today.

Buck almost thinks it's going to go to voicemail before it's picked up at the last second.

"...Go for Kinard?" Tommy answers, clearing his throat. His voice is sleep-rough and deep, and Buck hasn't heard it in so long that it's like applying balm to very shattered, torn edges of a wound. "Hello? Who is–Ev—Buck?"

"Did I ever tell you," Buck starts, and he sounds just as rough, but he's more awake than he ever has been, despite the bone deep tiredness that fills him, "about the fact that I was made to be a savior baby for a brother I never met? My parents made me in a science tube so that they could use my bone marrow to heal my brother, Daniel, but it didn't work. I thought for a little while after I found out that it was because I was defective, but I get it now."

Sheets rustle on the other line before Tommy sits up again. "What are you talking about, Evan? What's wrong?"

Buck continues talking, bowling over Tommy's questions like he didn't hear them. "I think there's something inside of me that's toxic. Toxins drive people away, it makes them sick, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense for why everybody I love gets sick of me and leaves. It has to be me, right? Nobody stays, not forever. There's something wrong with me and I've finally figured it out."

"No, Evan," Tommy says, voice soft. He can hear the concern, though, the urgency hidden under his tone. There's the sound of jingling keys and a door opening and closing. Tommy's too far away to stop him.

"Sometimes, people leave. It's just what they do, it is nothing about you or what you've done. It's them. Their problems. My problems, that we should–we should sit down and talk about. Evan, where are you? I'm worried."

He almost doesn't want to tell him, but maybe it'd be better for someone to come out and collect his body so he doesn't ruin the trail. Leave it as you found it, or whatever. He gives Tommy his location and ignores the way it starts a mental countdown in the back of his mind. He doesn't have long now.

"It is me, Tommy. I want to believe you, but I can't. Not when hard evidence for almost my entire fucking life says otherwise. My parents emotionally left before I was even born. Maddie. Abby. Other girlfriends. I even lost the 118 at one point–thanks to that stupid mistake with the lawyer. Everybody leaves. And–and now with you, and Eddie. I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so goddamn tired."

Tears drip down Buck's cheeks. It's exhausting, viewing every relationship as a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, waiting for them to exit left out of his life. He thought things might be different with Tommy, it was one of his longest relationships, but he was wrong.

"You know, when you broke up with me that night, you said you'd be my first, but not my last. You were wrong. I-I love you so much, Tommy, even though you broke my heart. I hate you for leaving just like everyone else, but I also love you. You'll always be my first and last now. It's my turn to leave."

"Evan!" Tommy shouts into the phone and Buck cringes. "Evan, please, don't do anything. I'm on my way, okay, baby? Please just sit still and wait for me and we can talk–about everything. Please."

It'd be so easy to lean forward and let gravity do the work to drag him off the edge. The side of the cliff digs into the bottom of his thighs and he kicks his feet, knocking against some of the dirt and watching it tumble down.

His phone starts buzzing insistently in his hand with texts. Tommy must have sent out a message. He doesn't look at any of them as he pulls his phone to set it on Do Not Disturb before putting it to his ear again.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants the hurt to stop, he just wants it all to stop, but he's afraid. What if he's too weak to commit? Just like he's too weak to not let people back into his life, even if he knows they'll just leave again.

Weak and toxic.

He drops his phone onto his lap and hunches down, elbows pressing into his knees as he covers his face. He can hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

A strangled sob rips its way from his throat and he makes his decision.

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

There's an audible sigh of relief from Tommy. "Thank you, Evan. I'll be right there, okay? Keep talking to me, baby."

He doesn't know what to say anymore and tells Tommy as much.

"That's okay, Evan. I-I heard from Howie that you were baking lately? What have you been baking?"

Buck knows what's Tommy's doing. He's stalling so that Buck doesn't kill himself before Tommy and the first responders can get to him. He's done it dozens of times before to people on the edge while he's rescuing them.

"A lot of bread, really. Pumpkin bread, banana bread, butternut squash. I even, uh, have a sourdough starter that I've been feeding for a couple of weeks now. I named it Billy because it looks sometimes just like the, uh, boils I got from the curse when it expands."

Tommy lets out a watery laugh. "Of course, you'd name your sourdough starter." He clears his throat and the sirens are suddenly much louder in Buck's ears before they cut off abruptly. Quiet, rushed talking that Buck doesn't understand before Tommy starts running. "What else?"

"I made baked Alaska pretty soon after we broke up. It took me hours to make, and the entire time it was setting in the freezer, I had to bake other things to stop myself from calling you. I-I don't know if Chim told you that's why I started baking, but it is."

When Tommy responds, it's not through the phone. He comes to a stop beside him. "It sounds like your coping mechanism was more productive than mine, at least. Want to get away from the edge for me, Evan?"

He holds out his hand and Buck takes it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, yeah? What was yours?" The knowledge that Tommy was moping just as bad as Buck makes him feel...something.

"Eating entire pints of ice cream by myself on the couch while watching rom-coms." Tommy pulls Buck to his feet and wraps his arms tight around him. Buck can feel how badly Tommy is shaking. "Thank god you're okay. Thank you so much for calling me, Evan. Fuck."

Buck hugs him back and ignores the paramedics lingering behind him. He knows he's going to be taken away in the ambulance and put under a 72-hour hold because of this. He doesn't think about that, or what it means for his job when he's let out.

He focuses on Tommy and the way he clings to him. He came back. Sure, maybe he'll leave again when the initial scare of everything fades away, but it's more than most people have done in the past.

Tommy pulls away first and holds Buck's face gently in his hands. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and more spill over as he looks Buck over. "I love you too. I didn't say it earlier and didn't say it then, but I am now. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.

It doesn't fix everything, doesn't even scratch the surface, but it raises something dangerous in Buck's chest.

Hope.

[animeshotsh]

In every universe? | JayVik x Kid!Reader

Notes: ANGST - Timeline is messy as hell but i dont care - Fake with me that Jayce and Viktor finds Kid!reader earlier in terms on time - ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE - Character death - Grammar mistakes - S2 SPOILERS -

Alternative universe of this series

"But why do you have to stay mom?" A young voice asked Jayce who was mumbling while writing.

"Mom's has to work" Viktor softly said petting the youngest hair seeing as Jayce was too focus on the equations to even respond back.

"But, the lab at the Academy is bigger" You said again trying to understand why your dear parents have been working at home more and more.

"This is a sectet project Spark" Jayce responded turning to look at you, a soft tired smile on his face "And you must not tell anyone about it"

"Not even Heimerdinger ?"

"Specially not him" Jayce nodded to himself then to you and Viktor "I will pick you up from school and we can get some ice cream, deal?"

"Yes!!" You responded way too happy

"Alright, we must go if we dont want to be late, I have lectures to give" Viktor reminded both of you, passing you your bag and giving Jayce a kiss, "See you later"

"See you two later"

"Bye mom!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The old beautiful house and lab was now a memory, a horrible explosion replaced it.

Two bodies were found, one from a girl from the old undercity and the other one was Jayce's body.

From that event the division between the cities started to shatter and a new one was born. The place was left untouched, like a memorial of the event that caused the union.

But that for Viktor and you was never enogught.

That day you stayed back at school, Jayce had no showed up so no one could get you. It was almost night time when Skyler did appear with a sour look, you were confused but went with her.

You ended more confused when she took you back to the Academy, a tired Heimerdinger went to you rubbing circles on your back.

Then you saw your dad, Viktor was sitting in front of a cold tea, his hands covering his face. When he hear the footsteps he looked up to see you.

His look, his golden eyes were reddish now, it was all you needed to understand that something terrible had happened.

He got you in a warm and almost possesive embrace, more cries could be hear from him as he hugged you and said multiple times how sorry he was.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Its that day again, right?" Powder asked you giving you a drink as you nodded

"Yeah...Dad is, well he is still working and going but this day just makes it all more difficult"

Powder nodded knowing it was the same for her and the rest.

"You know, it never leaves" She started, repeating what Vander had said all these years back "You just learn to live with it"

~~~~~~~~~

The visit to Jayce's gravestone never got easier, Viktor swear he path got longer each time and his leg pulled him back more and more.

"Dad?"

Your voice broke his toughts, obscure ideas once more, what if in another universe the three of you got to live? See the city change together? Make it a better place?

He knew he was playing with dangerous forces but....but he was sure he was close, close to open a gate to a different place, one where Jayce was still alive and with him, and you were with them, growing and being brillant.

"Im coming Spark" Viktor softly called, the vision of Jayce's gravestone was a reminder that no, not in this universe.

In this universe Jayce Talis was dead, and he was going crazy without him.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ evil!Ford x reader

author note: okay im sorry for post spamming but this idea been sitting in my mind for too long and I had to write smth about it, would be glad to read your opinion on that Ford x reader dynamic!^^

so this is a bit of an au situation where evil!Ford is working with Bill now. in this version, reader is Ford’s former ex partner, someone who used to be close enough to him to know his work better than anyone else, including the equation Bill wanted from Ford in canon. Although here Ford doesn’t know the equation anymore, but you do

You’re trapped.

The chair beneath you creaks when you try to move, your wrists aching from the coldness of the handcuffs that keep your hands pinned behind your back. Your breathing is shallow from fighting, your throat feels dry from screaming, but you keep your head high. Defiance in your eyes, even as Stanford’s gaze burns holes through you.

He sits across from you with his legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his thighs, watching you. You squint, noticing a little glow of that infernal symbol on his wrist. Bill’s mark, his new goddamn religion. 

“You’re only making this harder for yourself, darling.”

You don’t answer, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Ford leans back in his chair, tilting his head as his eyes drag slowly over you. “Still playing the martyr, i see,” he drawls, unable to hold sarcastic laugh. “you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“Oh, but, sweetheart,” he says, standing now. “you don’t get it, do you? you can’t win this.”

“You think you’re protecting them,” Stanford continues. “Stanley, the twins. You think they’ll thank you for this? For your stubbornness?”

“You won’t touch them.” you answer through clenched teeth. 

Ford crosses the room in a few strides, towering over you now and it feels like his shadow is swallowing you whole. His hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing your face upward to look at him and you don’t recognise him, instead of your Ford, it’s a shadow of a man who’s sold his soul, body and mind, to something far worse than the nightmares you’re used to. Ford digs his fingers into your skin.

“Just tell me the equation, that’s all i want. you give me what i need, and this—” his eyes flick down to the cuffs, to the bruises blooming on your wrists, “—this ends.”

“Go to hell.”

His grip only tightens, and his jaw clenches. For a moment, you think he might snap, might lose that careful control he prides himself on. But to your surprise, he lets out a low, bitter laugh, releasing your chin and pacing a step away.

“Always so stubborn, it’s admirable, in a way. Stupid as fuck, but admirable. But we both know i can make you talk.”

Before you can react, his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back sharply. You gasp, your neck arching painfully as his face appears damn close you feel his breath against your lips. God, this is not how you imagined kissing Ford. Not after he joined Bill Cipher.

“What’s with that fear in your pretty eyes? I won’t bite, not unless you ask.” 

“Fuck. . . you,” you say again, but the words sound weaker this time and you hate the fact that even after Ford Pines isn’t the man you remember, you still feel attached to him.

Noticing your hesitation, Stanford’s lips curl into a smirk, and then he’s kissing you, if you can even call it that. Ford is forceful, rough, demanding, his kiss is nothing gentle, his other hand grips your jaw to keep you in place he takes what he wants, biting your lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and he groans when you make a pathetic muffled sound.

When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and you swear you can taste the metal, your skin burns from how hard he squeezed it.

“I can do this all night,” Ford trails his long fingers down the side of your neck, brushing the pulse that races beneath your skin. “You’ll give in eventually. . . they always do.”

“I hate you.” but you don’t believe your own words.

That truly makes Ford laugh, the way you say it so dead serious, with that cute glare when you both know it’s not like that. 

“Hate me?” he repeats in mockery, as if the very idea is absurd. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your head back to force your eyes to meet his. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart?”

You glare up at him, biting down on the words that threaten to spill from your mouth.

“Funny. That’s not what my muse showed me. Not in your little head, darling.” he talks, savouring every word, enjoying your reaction as you already have panic written all over your face. “let me tell you, in there, you’re begging for it, desperate for me to fuck you.”

Your heart slams against your ribs and the air seems to vanish from your lungs. 

“All those filthy little thoughts you try so hard to hide. I had no idea my ex-lab partner was such a slut?”

You feel mad and humiliated at same time, your face burns, but you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart, we both know exactly where it’s gonna get you.”

[not-rigel]

would you be interested in writing Sevika x (top) reader who is taller than her, stronger than her, and overall just larger than her and very masculine BUTTT is very submissive??? Kinda like a power bottom Sevika x sub top reader situation👀👀

uhhh YEA!!! hope i did your idea justice!

a little treat for arcane eve (i can expand more after arcane ends but i felt we needed a liiiitle enjoyment before losing our collective minds)

Set between s2 act 1 and 2

WC: 1.1k

Sevika honestly couldn't blame everyone for dropping ship when Silco decided to quit breathing. They have their own lives to lead. But the fact that you stayed stood out to her. When she sat in Silco’s office beaten and broken, you were the one that came to deliver the news and defend the Last Drop with her from the Chem Barons influence. You made grieving easier but the feeling was never gone. Sevika couldn’t talk about those things so most of the time she settled for drinking or flirting with you. Right now she decided on teasing you in her new office. 

“So, pipsqueak, what’ll you do if I can't fix this shitstorm?” 

You roll your eyes, you have no idea why she insists on giving you stupid nicknames, “Sevika, I could throw you across the room without even trying. Between the two of us, you’re the pipsqueak. And everything’ll be fine.”

“I argue that I can take you,” she says. Unbeknownst to you, she doesn’t mean in a fight. 

She's been attracted to you the very moment she saw you, back when Silco hired you on for muscle. She never made a move, for the sake of professionalism. Even after Silco’s death she held back, unsure how she’d emotionally handle a sexual entanglement. But she was getting better, now that weeks have passed and she changed her look. So she let herself consider making a move.

“Alright, and how many times have I held you back while you were on shimmer?” you challenged. 

“That’s in the past, pipsqueak. I'm talking now.” 

There’s that nickname again, “Fuck you, Sevika. You need to stop calling me that, please.” 

“Are you offering?” she quips back. 

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You said ‘fuck you’. I’m asking if you were offering to fuck me,” she clarifies.

You’re speechless. Sure, you’ve thought about Sevika in that way on several occasions but it was always just a thought. You thought about her, when she barked out orders to Silco’s goons. Or stared down at Enforcers, daring them to so much as lay a finger on her. She was always scarier than you in that regard, someone who could take real charge. It always excited you. You watch her now, for some sign that she was messing with you but you can’t find any.

“Not initially but… I’m offering now,” you say before hesitation can sink in. 

She smirks, standing from the sofa and walking over to the desk. You watch her open a drawer and pull out something you recognize. It’s her old choker, the one she wore before changing her appearance. You gulp as she approaches you. 

“What’s that for?” you asked. 

“It’s for you,” she explains. She fits the collar around your neck, adjusting the fit. You think it might be too loose but she slips a finger underneath and drags you to her by it. You let out a whimper as she pulls you by the choker to her lips. 

“You’re so strong, so tall, so fucking masc. It turns me on so fucking much,” she whispers against your lips. You could take control right now, she’s only exerting a small amount of force over you. Holding you in place by a choker, but you don’t resist her. 

She pulls the collar again, setting her lips right by your ear, “Been waiting for you to fuck me.”

Immediately you’re filled with nerves. You love to top but you’re not dominant, despite what your appearance might suggest. You want to fuck her and by all physical means you could manhandle her, but it never came naturally to you. 

“Can you… Tell me what to do? I really want you, I do,” you sigh. 

Sevika shivers. She’s never met anyone so perfect before. Sevika needs you to fuck her, but more than that she needed to boss you around. It always gave her the sweetest thrill. And to boss around someone physically stronger than her, to have you relent all the power to her? She could fall in love in a minute. 

“Would you submit for me? Let me boss you around? Tell you how I’ve dreamed about you fucking me?” She purrs into your ear. Her words are sweet drops of fire, licking your skin deliciously.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths, “Yes. Fuck, I’d love it.” 

“You’re so strong and all I have to do to get you weak for me is pull you by your collar? You’re so precious,” she moans. 

“I like it when you boss people around. Made me so wet. I’d do anything you tell me to, please Sevika,” there was no holding it in now, the choker and her words eased you into subspace.

That’s how you find yourself knelt between her spread thighs while she sits with her ass perched on the edge of the sofa, shoving your head into her cunt. She doesn’t wait for you to find her clit, instead shifting her hips to move it below your lips. 

“Grab my hips,” she orders, needing you to manhandle her. Just to show that you could control her, but ultimately won’t. You grip her hips, and she shifts her thighs over your shoulders so you have to hold her weight up. You rest your elbows onto the sofa for support, and hold her hips in the air. Both of you were feeling a perfect rush, the sexual dynamic making you thrive like you never had before. 

Sevika groans hearing your sweet little whimpers as she begins to grind onto your face. You move to keep up with her grinding, trying to hold the suction you have on her clit. 

“Stick your tongue out, mouse,” she demands. She loves giving you nicknames to insinuate you’re small. You’re not little, and she loved that. Every time you convinced her to drop one nickname, she came up with another. It was a power trip for her. 

You flatten out your tongue so she can ride it, and you moan as her fluids spread over your face. She leaked onto your chin and you loved the sensation of being covered in her. Loved how she barks commands at you. 

“Shit, gonna cum on your handsome face,” she announces, knees bending to pull you closer. You keep your tongue still, letting her ride your face until you feel her thighs tremble. Her thighs squeeze your head as her hips stop their movement. You shove your tongue into her cunt, feeling her walls pulse around it. She cums loud and hard, juices leaking down your chin and neck. You shudder, feeling your own arousal drip from you. When her orgasm is over, she has you set her back onto the couch. 

“You’re not done, runt. Still need you inside of me,” she rasps. You’re alight with excitement for more of her demands, ready to beg for her all night long. 

[cuntdevil]

★ NEVER BE ENOUGH !

the fan fiction he writes for you will never be enough, and neither is the week he's been gifted to meet you. it will never be enough until he has you in his hold.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, kamo choso, dark content & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 17k words !

╰┈➤ fanboy/fan fic writer!kamo choso & actress!reader, choso has a tumblr account, parasocial relationship, obsessive!kamo choso, stalking, nonconsensual photo taking, mentions of masturbation, sexual fantasies, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, etc.

( author's note. ) i enjoyed writing this piece so much, even though i was a bit nervy !! i hope you lot enjoy as well !! much love, baebies. mwah !

They say people that write fan fiction are weird. That they’re stuck in a world that will never become a reality. That they’re obsessed with fiction instead of focusing on the authentic. And, in a way, it’s true. They have an imagination that brings them to wonders and they hope to escape the real world. They spend hours on end trying to perfect scenes, hyper-fixating on one specific idea that came to them at the whee hours in the middle of the night that they just had to bring to life to alleviate the constant badgering inside of their mind. They give people a gift, something free to read in their spare time, for nothing in exchange except for a like, reblog and a comment to share their feelings. 

Choso, he doesn’t feel ashamed when he admits that he indulges in fan fiction to his friends. Why should he? It is, after all, a form of creativity. However, the teasing becomes annoying and it’s all they can talk about for weeks on end, so instead, he keeps it to himself because he just can’t be bothered. But, to say he’s ashamed? No, that’s something he’ll never be. 

Why should he be when he can fabricate an entire universe inside of his mind? Why should he be when he can beckon thousands of people to read his work and garner a following that tells him that he’s not alone — that there are people who enjoy his work and what he can create with the right pairings of words and phrases? Why should he be when he has mutuals that write alongside him, doing what they love to do?

Call him an extremist all they want, but if other men can create their dream characters in their fantasy footballs and have entire plotlines to how they came to the top, what’s so different from it? He should be able to love something so much that he needed to create his own world(s) of it. Even if they all revolve around you. 

If anyone were to scroll through his masterlists, they'd see that over one hundred of them had your name in it. Didn’t matter if it was a specific character you played or if it revolved around the real you, it was a consistent list that let his readers know that he was irrevocably in love with you. It was concerning until they saw a different name not tied down to you, clicking on the link as their previous remarks were quickly forgotten. 

He had first come to know of you through a sit-com, Big House. A child actress with the cutest of eyes. You had called all the attention on you as viewers loved you the moment you were introduced, rating going higher and the television series going for a total of eight seasons. It was a long-running show during the time that it ended, but Choso soon learned that all the episodes he had been watching at the time were reruns and weren’t current. It had disappointed him as he, too, saw your appeal to the mass.

He had next seen you on another show aimed for kids and families, once again, compiling high ratings for television companies as you had many side projects of modeling, acting in different franchises, and even dabbling in a short-term music career (It was an inside joke to fandom that your singing career remains unmentioned). However, Choso didn’t feel inclined to write until you starred in Us Against the World. 

For the first time, you were the main star of the show, finally showing the world your true capabilities and leaving everyone enamored by your performance. It worked especially well in your favor as previously, you were tied to a huge controversy that tarnished your name, being labeled as Hollywood’s Supreme Diva, after freshly turning eighteen and paparazzi weren’t so nice. 

The countdown to your eighteenth birthday had been a disaster as preying men had been looking forward to the big one-eight and the media entertained it— sexualizing your transition from child to adulthood. You had already started rebelling at sixteen, photo-ops have proof of you smoking and participating in underage drinking. Mothers ridiculed you, fathers fantasized about you. It was so disgusting in Choso’s eyes, his thick pieces on Tumblr being proof of it.

When the day had come and you wanted to celebrate despite the media constantly being up your ass, paparazzi were bombarding you the moment you slipped outside of a Casino, reaching for you in attempts to ask you invading questions. You had your bodyguards with you, but one managed to sneak through the cracks, reaching straight for your breasts. There were two infamous shots taken back then— one of you being groped and the next one you punching said paparazzi square in the jaw. 

Your father made you take self-defense classes, and you knew you could throw a punch. It was evident on the sleazy man’s face that you could, too, but in efforts to keep his dignity intact. He spit out the blood and said, “You punch like a little bitch!”

That was the title of the articles that came out the very next day, alongside (Your Name) has become the Supreme Diva of Hollywood. You seemed to have vanished after that night as people went on and on about your disrespectful nature, like you should’ve just let the man grope you. And people didn’t ignore your absence for a while, further articles being published and claiming that you were embarrassed about the way you lashed out. 

You had stayed away from the media for two to three years until you were offered a role to play the lead in a zombie television show called Us Against the World. The director had contacted you herself, explaining who she saw you as, Beatrice Martin, and how she thought you were well suited for the character, seeing everything that you went through. You had gotten so comfortable with the silence and seclusion from the world of fame that you were about to say no, but instead, your mouth had said “yes” and further promised that you were willing to at least audition for the role. 

Choso had set a reminder on his calendars of when the show would first be televised, locking himself up in the room with food and drinks as he was perched on his bed. The opening scene began with you and from that moment forth, he was hooked on the television show and you. Shortly afterwards, he had found himself immersed into the world of fandom, learning more about it and that people wrote fics based on the characters and different forms of media they enjoyed. From Wattpad to Quotev to Fanfiction.net, Choso indulged in many websites and apps. However, he felt a calling when he found Tumblr— the shitty site holding him bound by his arms and legs— the url handle kamoso becoming an account that many people look forward to clicking. 

—

You thought you were done with acting. You wanted to be, but now that you’re back under the limelight and more in control about your image, you manage to endure the brunt of the lifestyle. The worst has passed, after all. 

You’ve fallen back in love with the art of being someone else, finding comfort in the fake as you flash faux smiles and scream in agony on the camera as your significant other on screen gets ripped apart by the undead, fake blood pouring from the contraption connected to the fake arm. However, under the circumstances you’re under, you can’t stop and mourn, calling more attention to yourself under the herd of zombies hurdling your way. You have to be selfish and think for yourself, trying not to look back at the hungry mob nibbling on your dying lover. 

You run until the scene is called to a close, halting your movements as you pant. Hands landing on your knees as you hunch over and throw your head back. And when your co-star, Geto Suguru, touches your shoulder, you immediately reach to hug him, groaning as you tighten your hold around him and him doing the same. Everyone crowds together in this moment of goodbye because outside of flashbacks and cameos, this will be the last of consistently seeing him. 

And while this is all fake, some of it feels real as you will mourn the loss of another consistent cast member, soon to be replaced by someone else come episodes or seasons later. However, you’ll enjoy the video essays and the threads online people will create the moment the episode will drop— crazy conspiracy theories being said as fans stay completely in denial to the loss of another founding character. Or, people lowkey glad that they’re gone, sharing their thoughts on why they hated Geto’s character. Whatever it will be, you’ll use some of your spare time to giggle at it and message him later on that day. 

Because, outside of the bad that has come out of achieving your dreams, you really have come to enjoy the good that comes out of it. Like the contest that you’re participating in, the television company, ABC Channel, you’re currently working under partnering with ‘The Aspiring’ to host a contest, inviting a few fans to meet with any of the participating cast members of whatever show under ABC for a week. As explained to you, the contestants will submit an entry following the prompt: If you were to rewrite one episode, which one would it be, and why? 

You had found the prompt interesting when the news of a contest was announced during one of the meetings when Us Against the World was ready to start filming for the new season, opting yourself to be one of the stars who were willing to participate. It had brought a lot of shocked faces as you haven’t really shown interest in much fan interactions minus occasional hellos you’d give when someone recognized you. You had kept yourself reserved much to the media’s dismay as they were quick to write off that you had returned back to your old ways, but genuine fans were always quick to defend you, seeing you as what you are— human. Nonetheless, you received support from your fellow co-stars and staff, happy that you’re opening yourself up a bit more. 

The contest has yet to be announced, but you’re anticipating it as you also had the chance to be involved in who won for your show. It would be an opening of opportunities for the winner, a possible chance to network if they had true potential. You were always grateful that someone saw yours and you wanted to be the next person to shine the light onto someone else. You could hear your father’s voice inside your head at times, questioning you for your naivety and how you could take a risk like this. You can hear the deep, angered grumble of his voice chastising you. “How can you be so stupid? Why would you take a chance like this?”

Once upon a time, you’d let his every word dictate you. You hadn’t much choice as he was your parent and you were a minor, but you let his words become your Bible and had lost yourself along the way. While you had deterred yourself away for a while— hence the columns of you drinking and smoking— you had always let him put his foot on your neck in deciding who you were to be otherwise. It got worse when you had turned eighteen and you had let him put a halt in your acting career, wanting you out of the limelight for good. You had wanted a break, but never wanted to detach yourself entirely. When Us Against the World was offered to you, you and your father had a huge falling out about it and you haven’t seen him since. 

He’s called, and you have, but neither of you have made the effort to see one another. And, honestly? You like it that way. You want to shine without the moon standing in your way. Everyday, you’re a little closer to doing just so. 

—

theaspiring and abchannel 

Want to meet one of your favorite stars? You’re just in luck! The Aspiring and ABC are collaborating together to give dedicated fans a chance to spend a week with one of their favorite stars. All you have to answer is: If you were to rewrite one episode from your favorite ABC series, which would it be, and why? 

Put your imagination to use as we’re accepting a variety of submissions. However, please adhere to our rules and guidelines when submitting. Click the link below for more information and faqs. We can’t wait to see your submission!

www.theaspiring.com/abc-x-the-aspiring-contest 

Choso’s heart begins to race, reading the post caption, checking the account legitimacy only to see that both accounts are verified. When he clicks on the hyperlink, it sends him straight to the official website. He has to pinch himself in order to convince his mind that this is real— that this opportunity is an actuality and there’s a possibility that he can win.

He throws his phone at the far corner of the bed, too close to the edge but never falling. On his nightstand, he immediately reaches for his laptop, an idea already in mind as he spends the rest of the day writing. He typically finds himself like this when he writes, caged up inside of his bedroom as neglecting his health in order to finish a fic. The many times he had to tell himself that this wasn’t serious— fan fiction isn’t serious— and that he shouldn’t ruin his health because of it. However, he just gets so captivated by it, putting all of his focus on it and not eating or drinking or showering the entire day. His fingers would only move as his eyes got dry from looking at the screen for hours on end, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop as his mind would only go and go and go. If he didn’t get it down now, he was in fear that all of his ideas would evaporate in that very moment and they’d get lost in the abyss of forgotten epiphanies. 

Right now is the same as the last time he looked at the clock, it was only ten in the morning. When he’s finally done, it’s eight at night and the word count reads over 20k words long. He’s developed a migraine by now, finally shutting the laptop as the document automatically saves. The moment his feet hit the floor, it tingles and he has to limp his way to his bedroom door. He rolls his head back, his vision getting funny as he opens the door. He’s starting to feel the quick repercussions of his actions as his stomach growls and he starts feeling nauseous. He has to force himself to muster up the strength, fixing a small bowl of oatmeal to take away the pain and jump in the shower right after. 

The heat of the water is relaxing, the piping hot touch cracking every aching muscle in his body as he relaxes. The eucalyptus body wash infiltrates the steamy air, its strong scent lulling him to sleep that he nearly slips and calls it quits. Somewhere along the way, the clip holding his hair up has slipped out, his hair falling in front of his face haphazardly. The white towel wrapped around his waist threatens to fall as he takes careful steps, excess water dripping in his path. In the comfort of his bedroom once again, he pulls on a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants as he jumps back into bed. His laptop lays next to him as he’s momentarily coaxed to get back on it, but the exhaustion running rampant through him takes control and knocks him out before he could truly contemplate what was happening. 

The next day, when he’s wide awake, he works on the document again. He proofreads it, correcting all of his mistakes and making sure that everything makes sense. The document name, Never Be Enough. He had always wanted to write a fix-it fic for one of the most tragic episodes in the entire series, where your character— Beatrice— had finally reunited with your father after being departed for months because of the apocalypse. It was the main plot to the series for majority of the time as every time that you were close, some heavy obstacle would fall into place, distancing the both of you before either of you knew. It aggravated him, the writing of the show that he remembered wanting to drop it at some point. However, he braved it through. 

When the episode finally came where Beatrice was finally reunited with her dad, he was ripped away from her. Literally torn apart from her in a stampede of zombies that managed to make it through the barricade surrounding the small colony of survivors. Your band of friends that helped you get there had to get you away as you watched in pain, the last part of your old life all gone. The episode was called Never Be Enough, and gosh, while he hated it, it fit so perfectly. Because no matter how much you have fought to get there, it all felt like it was never enough. Choso had to question if it was his emotions that made him believe that the show writers were just crappy at their job and if in actuality, they were geniuses. 

After the season was left on that cliffhanger, it made Choso go into a silent rage inside of his mind as he could only think about how it ended and the possibility of your character arc being ruined before it even got the chance to get better. He had written some possibilities of a better ending, but never decided on it until yesterday. Twenty thousand words he had to look over, and if he’s being honest with himself, it still doesn’t feel like enough. But while there wasn’t a word limit of written entries for the contest, he didn’t want to test said limits and kept most of the piece where it was at. When he was finished, he formatted the first page how it was asked of him.

Alternative Ending to Us Against the World, Season Two: Episode 11

Never Be Enough by Kamo Choso.

Top Three Picks for 1 Week Celebrity Meet: Your Name, Geto Suguru, and Nobara Kugisaki.

He wrote a small page on why he thought the episode needed to be written before he transitioned onto the work itself, making sure that it flowed together before overlooking the entire document again. When he was finally satisfied, he downloaded the document— Never_Be_Enough_KCH.docx— and logged into his account for The Aspiring. He hated this feeling, this piercing pressure of anxiety in his chest. It happened whenever he posted a new fic and now it was happening with this, too, but this? This was much worse.

He felt like he could barely breathe, slowly dragging the file with his cursor and watching it load. When he read 100%, he hovered over the ‘Submit’ button and squirmed in his gaming chair, the seat swiveling as he turned from side to side. Closing his eyes, he just had to do it. The sound of the right click echoing through the room before he opened his eyes again and watched the screen load. Then, virtual confetti blowing across the screen as ‘Successful!’ reads across the laptop. He lets out the breath he was holding, his reddened face losing its color as he shuts the screen and jumps onto his bed. 

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he clicks open the Tumblr app, opening up a new post page and types out: ‘I think I just made the worst mistake yet. I’ll tell you guys later if I’m a fool or not.’

—

You never realized how reviewing competition submission could be so tiring. Days and days of watching, viewing and reading what people had to say. While it had been fun at the beginning, it quickly became tedious and exhausting after day three. From your checklist, you marked off those you found no interest in and checked off people who had lots of potential.

Each submission was sorted by the contestants’ top choices, where you seemed to have the majority of it for Us Against the World. Thankfully, any submission that had shown red flags were immediately removed before your viewing, but it was still a heavy amount that you had to go through. Your body ached and your vision started to blur as you read over another paragraph before groaning. You shut your phone screen off and drop the device right next to you on the couch and get up. 

When you stood up, you stretched and sauntered straight to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a tupperware of leftovers. When you look at the time, it’s only twelve in the afternoon. A yawn draws from your lips, eyes squinting shut as the hum of the microwave sounds in the small luxury apartment. You stretch once more, arms rising above your head as your shirt joins you for the ride, your belly button peeking from underneath. Three chimes before you’re opening the microwave door and pulling out the orange chicken and lo mein, stabbing a fork in it and blowing on the spoonful of food. 

You turn on the television the moment you return back to the couch, taking a moment to unwind and watch something that isn’t so of substance. Somewhere in between, you fall asleep, food halfway finished and nearly falling from your grasp. Your head leans crooked as you sleep sitting up, your head resting simultaneously on the wall and the leather as you’re tilting over. Ever so slowly do you move until you hit that slippery slope, falling down so fast that you jump awake in fright and your fork finally falls from the tupperware, clinking against the marble floor. 

“Shit,” you curse, never meaning to fall asleep. Glancing at the clock, more time has passed more than you expected, making you curse one more time as you go in search of your phone. It loads back to the last submission, which you quickly click out of and find something else. It takes time getting back in the groove of things, but when you do, you find yourself with certainly more energy than you did before, managing to skim through most of them. 

You spend the remainder of your day cooped up back on the couch before you’re clicking on what you note will be the last submission for the night. The document name, Never_Be_Enough_KCH.docx, when you click on it, it takes some time to load. The three dots spinning around in a circle before the front page loads. 

When you start scrolling, you gasp. “Damn…”

Over twenty thousand words to read. Wow, you think. They practically wrote a novel. You started debating on if you should really end your night with this. If you did, you won’t go to bed until midnight, and you have a busy schedule tomorrow. It wouldn’t be worth it. However, you manage to convince yourself to read the first paragraph at most, reading why they believed that episode should’ve been remade. In fact, they went on a miniature rant on why they believed the entire first couple of seasons should have been rewritten. It made you laugh as it heavily intrigued you, leading you to scroll further and read through it more.

One thousand words became two, and five thousand became ten. The words were written so seamlessly that when you stopped to glance at the time, you no longer cared, wanting to know what happened next. It was as if you weren’t an actress, but a fan of the series itself, immersed so deeply into the plot as you started tearing up at some points, laughing at the next. It felt amazing to be well invested in something. When it was finally over and you could no longer scroll, you felt a missing piece within your heart as you felt like it was too short and there should be more. 

Pushing yourself to sit up on the couch, you wiped away the tears on your face. “Fuck,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. You didn’t think coming into this, you’d get so emotional, but this person? You scroll back to the beginning of the document, reading their name. This person, Kamo Choso, really outdid themself. On your list, you highlight his name. You don’t care if you didn’t finish the majority of entries, you go to message your manager, downloading the file as you send it to her. You even go the extra mile to messaging your coworkers, your text reading along the lines of: This one is definitely worth the read. I think I’ve already found my winner. 

—

In two months time, Choso receives an email from The Aspiring. He doesn’t open it immediately. Instead, he waits until the next day at midnight when he’s finally remembering it. With short breaths and his chest rising and falling, his thumb hovers over the notification as the subject line reads— Your Submission Results are in . . . 

And gosh, Choso really has to work on his pessimistic views because when he finally clicks on the email, he immediately thinks he’s lost the competition, dread coursing through his body as he’s preparing himself for disappointment. However, the words of We’re Sorry never show up and instead . . .

Congratulations, Choso! We were very impressed with your submission as you’ve managed to keep us on the edge of our seats for your entry. We’re ecstatic to say that you’ve won a chance to meet your number one pick, Your Name. They have a very special note to further congratulate you. 

“Congratulations, Choso! I wanted to personally say that I really enjoyed every ounce and every minute that I got to read your submission. It was really immersive and I have to say, you have a special way with words. Thank you so much for the time you spent writing it because I know it was a lot. Can’t wait to meet you in person!” — Your Name. 

Choso went to sleep as a more happy and optimistic man. 

DAY ONE

Airplanes have never been Choso’s thing. He doesn’t travel much, but when he does, he tries to avoid them if he can. He doesn’t have a fear of them, but he finds them so uncomfortable. The entire process of having to check in and then going through his packed bags to take out electronics and whatever TSA asks of him. It’s a tiring process that he’d just like to avoid altogether. However, for you and a paid flight, he’s willing to go through the hassle. He just has to make sure he has enough stuff to help him survive the trip over. It’ll be about a seven hour flight, after all. 

Scheduled to board the plane at twelve-fifteen, he should arrive around eight-fifteen. However, due to the different time zones, it’ll be somewhere around five when they land. It’s the one thing that Choso dreads when traveling as a whole, the change of time always messing with his mind and making him an absolute grumpy mess as he tries to get accustomed to it all. But, then again, he tells himself, it’s for you and it’s an all expenses covered trip. He shouldn’t complain at all.

When he boards the flight and it’s finally ready for take off, the first thing he pulls out is his iPad and the keyboard installment to go with it, pulling up offline documents he made sure to have saved up to his current progress. He spends the majority of the time on the plane hopping from one document to the next as it helped ease him during the turbulence and ongoing ruckus that would happen from time-to-time. 

Black headphones that drown out the rest of the world, when his iPad dies and his portable charger is already in use, he spends the next hour fast asleep with Lofi hip hop playing in his ears until he’s being nudged awake. One, two, three times he is nudged because he’s finally awake. A raspy ‘hm?’ that leaves his lips before his dark eyelashes flutter open. His aisle is completely empty when he looks around, only a flight attendant standing in front of him. “Sir, the plane has landed and everyone’s left.”

“Huh?” he hums before he realizes what she’s said. “Oh!” 

Face heating up as he abruptly stands, nearly falling over, he rushes to the overhead storage to pull out his carry on luggage. He leads himself out of the plane, never making eye contact with the rest of the attendants as he shuffles with his carry on. Checking the time, it’s thirty minutes past five and the vehicle waiting for him will be here around six. He thanks the simplicity of domestic flights as he doesn’t have to go through the heavy hassle of further checks, making a beeline towards the exits as people crowd the outside, either waiting for their ride or taking their luggage out of the trunk.

Choso passes the time with music playing in his ears and his eyes glued to the phone, reblogging posts and reading through his TBR list on Tumblr. When the clock ticks closer to six, he’s shutting his phone off and keeps his eyes out for his designated ride, anticipation running through him whenever a vehicle comes close. It has his anxiety racing as his fingers twitch to the jagged birthmark etched across the bridge of nose, the dark line probably annoyed with his habit. 

When his ride did come, it was more than he expected. A black limousine parking in front of Terminal D, just as they had explicitly told him. People were selfish as the vehicle tried to turn into the front, honking their horns in hopes to get past. However, the stubborn chauffeur stayed in place as shortly, people made space for him. When he finally parked, the chauffeur hopped out of the front seat as he quickly averted his attention to Choso. The dark birthmark being the indicator of his identity as he approached him. “Kamo Choso, am I right?”

Choso nods, eyes widening as he realizes that the limousine was, in fact, for him. He shouldn’t have expected anything less, but he didn’t suspect it to be just like the media portrayed it. “Uhm, yeah,” he verbally responds. “That’s me.”

“Great,” the chauffeur smiles curtly. “I’m Haibara. I just need to see some ID and we’ll be on our way.”

Pulling out his passport, Haibara takes a picture of it, his fingers swiping and clicking away before guiding Choso over to the vehicle. As the man holds the door open for him, Haibara already having thrown his luggage in the trunk, Choso takes a step inside as he observes in awe. Next to his seat, a basket of goodies that waited for him as well as a few refreshments. When Haibara finally hops into the front seat, he looks through the rear view mirror. “_____ bought you a basket full of snacks for you to enjoy on the ride down. She expected that you’d be a bit peckish after the long flight. I hope they’re to your liking.”

“Oh,” Choso hums, grabbing the basket as Haibara starts the engine, pulling out of the space. “That was nice of her.”

The comment was more to himself, and thankfully, Haibara didn’t comment on it as he simply nodded in agreement as his eyes became glued to the road. The only time he did talk was to ask if Choso wanted to change the radio, and showed him how to do so if and when he felt like he needed to. Other than that, the ride to the hotel was silent. The traffic was heavy where it nearly took an hour to arrive. Choso had finished two bags of chips since the ride, about to pick up another one when Haibara spoke once more. 

“I forgot to mention this earlier, but there’ll be a welcome dinner later tonight,” he informs Choso. “Once we arrive, you can freshen up and in an hour’s time, you’ll meet me back at the entrance of the hotel.”

Just as he says that does he pulls up in front of the hotel, parking the limousine right in front of the double doors. Exiting the vehicle, Choso grabs the small basket of snacks along with him as Haibara helps him with his luggage, signaling for the bell boy to assist Choso. The building exterior itself is large, a beautiful sight to see, but the inside is a thousand times better. It’s unfortunate that Choso didn’t get much time to marvel in it as Haibara nudges him forward as the bell boy nearly leaves him behind. 

“You’ll have plenty of time to look around later,” Haibara chuckles as he helps Choso check in at the front. Right as he’s about to temporarily depart, he gives Choso a curt nod. “I’ll see you in a few.” 

Choso doesn’t know if he prepared himself well enough. What was he supposed to do when he finally met you? It never felt real to him until this very moment, where he finds himself in the small confines of his hotel room and he’s opening his suitcase. Did I even pack anything decent enough to meet them? What am I even supposed to wear? Is it fancy? “Fuck,” he curses, flinging the cover of the suitcase over it as he stands up. A shower… A shower is what he needs. 

When it’s the time that Haibara instructed Choso to meet him, Choso is two minutes late. He hopes the brunette wouldn’t chastise him for it, but then again, the man didn’t seem like the type. If anything, he’d probably sweep it under the rug as it was just two minutes. 

So said, so done. Instead of the limousine, Haibara’s now standing in front of a black Lexus, legs crossed as his hands are stuffed inside his pockets. He has that habitual smile on his face as his eyes crease as he says, “You’re right on time.”

It makes Choso want to snort as Haibara holds the door open for him and hops inside. The drive is much shorter than the trip from the airport down to the hotel, arriving in just under twenty minutes. Haibara bids him a nice farewell as he instructs Choso what to do when he gets inside. 

He can already feel it, the sweaty palms and the damp under arms of his short-sleeved button up. He’s starting to shiver already as well. Each breath he takes is getting shorter and shorter and he’s trying to stop himself from experiencing a panic attack when the doors automatically open for him and there’s a sweet woman standing right at the front.

“Welcome to Mahogany,” she smiles kindly. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Uh, yeah,” Choso breathes. “I—I’m here for the welcoming dinner. My name’s Kamo Choso.”

She nods her head, receiving a clipboard as she reads through it. When she spots his name, her eyes light up as she leads him around back. That’s where he spots her, where it took him no time at all. Everyone’s seated together at a table that has to fit around twenty at least. It’s overwhelming.

It’s not just you, but it’s Geto Suguru, Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, Gojo Satoru… It’s some of the cast that he’s only ever been able to meet in person. It has him stopping in his tracks just a few steps away from everyone, where the hostess walks ahead of him, unaware that he’s stopped. He wants to turn around and tell Haibara to come back, but he’s probably driven off and he never did get his number. Would he have even given it to me? He asks himself. 

“Here’s your—” the waitress stops her in tracks when it comes to her realization that Choso hadn’t followed along, head spinning around to see that he’s a few tables down. It calls for more attention, much to his dismay as the chatter dies down and almost everyone’s peering their head to see their new guest.

Choso wants to die, face heating up as his hand raises to scratch at his birthmark. It’s the same person that’s caused this reaction to speak up. Your eyes elated as you push back your chair, coming to stand. “Choso!”

Your eyes meet your smile. They sparkle as you extend your arms out to him. Dressed in an orange dress, it compliments you well as the top hugs your upper frame before flowing at the skirt. It's simple, but perfect for the occasion as you have an ivory-toned shall to go with it. “I've been so excited to finally meet you in person. You have no idea how much I loved your entry. I read every single word of it and I even went back and read it two more times when I had the chance.”

You speak to him so easily. How do you do it? “You— You actually read it?”

“Yeah,” you chirp, guiding him to his seat next to you. “We all got a chance to read through the majority, if not all, the entries, and chose our favorites. Oh! By the way, let me greet you to everyone here—” 

Slowly does his anxiety dissipate with every passing second as he takes a seat next to you. You take time to introduce the winning contestants who’re also here and your co-stars. His heart still races, however, beating rapidly across his chest that it feels like it’ll implode. You’re more beautiful than you appear on screen. Your hair combed into one as your voluminous strands dance upwards like a crown. Curls that glide alongside your forehead with tendrils right at your temples. Your makeup matches the warmth of your orange dress, a slightly orange-tinted blush that works well for your warm undertones. You’re a beauty made to be marveled over, someone who deserves to be painted, your picture hanging in one of the finest of museums. 

Eyes glued to you the majority of dinner, he can feel it deep within himself. He’s in love. 

DAY TWO

A blessing that comes with acting is the impact that you have over people’s lives. Seeing how being an inspiration has truly framed a person’s life as they build a positive outlook on their dreams, thus chasing after them. The stories they share, or how they’ve found comfort in your shows. It all warms your heart when their genuinity outshines and sparks joy within you. 

You don’t want to hold yourself on a high pedestal, but you can read it all over Choso. The adoration he has for you, it was evident in his entry and it was evident at the welcome dinner last night. Standing starstruck as he gawked over the celebrities that sat around the table, but eyes ultimately meeting yours as they glossed and shined over in a thin veil of tears. You remember first being that way when you hit the limelight. It felt incredible meeting your admirations, but it could also be embarrassing.

It was cute how Choso was flustered and completely enamored once you broke that thick coat of awe, pulling him in for conversation as many of them complimented him for the work he put in before boasting about their winners themselves. In your eyes, the dinner was a tremendous success and you could only anticipate what today was going to be like as well as the rest of the week.

As your makeup is being done for the current episode filming, there’s three light knocks on the door. You shout, “It’s open!” 

One of the personal assistants opens the door, pushing his head inside as they make eye contact with you. “Ma’am, Choso has arrived. Do you want me to send him in?”

You don’t hesitate to respond with a ‘yes.’ Nodding your head, you smile. “Send him in.”

It isn’t long before the door’s shut that it’s opened once again as the same personal assistant leads Choso inside the trailer. Instead of the black button and black denim jeans he had on yesterday, Choso has on a white t-shirt and a pair of black sweats as he stands inside the trailer, hands shoved in his pants as he stands awkwardly. Your makeup artist gives him a polite smile as she does the last touch-ups before giving you the go ahead. 

“She’s all yours now,” she chuckles, before gathering up the belongings and giving the two of you alone time. Choso still can’t believe how your eyes continue to match your smile, portraying genuine happiness as you beckon him to take a look around.

“It’s not really much,” you shrug. “Just what I need to survive when filming hours drain me and I don’t have the time and energy to head back to my apartment.” Choso’s eyes travel, taking in the small exterior. It feels so homely as a bed is fixed to the far left corner as a few furniture pieces stand, holding a clutter of your belongings. Somehow, you’ve managed to make the space feel so real and cozy. “But, this isn’t the exciting part—” You cut the tour of your trailer short, pushing open the door and climbing down the steps. “—C’mon, the set where we actually film is much better.” 

You walk a few paces before Choso catches up to you. When he finally exits, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of something shimmering as his hands went stuffed back into his pocket, but you ignored it, figuring it was just the reflection of the light. Quickly, your mind ventured to the task at hand as you led the way down the set. 

“We have two options for you guys,” you say, constantly glancing back at Choso to make sure he’s caught up with your quick steps. “Because the new season hasn’t aired and we don’t want to spoil things for you, we’ve got your chauffeurs on standby. You’ve got Haibara and I know he’s willing to bring you anywhere you want, he’s being paid a bit extra for it.

“Or, if you don’t mind a bit of spoilers and want to see more of the action,” you turn around, walking backwards as you wiggle your eyebrows. “You get to watch us film. Which one is it?”

“Who wouldn’t want to see you guys film?” Choso scoffs, his answer evident. He didn’t come all the way here just for a simple break from his everyday life. No, he wanted to experience the life that you lived as an actress. 

You snort. “That’s what I thought, but the rest of the guests wanted to stay behind. They said they didn’t want to be spoiled at all, which I can respect, but—”

“I think it’s a waste of a day,” Choso shrugs. “To finally get the chance to see what happens right before your eyes, and to miss out on that opportunity because you don’t want to be spoiled. Knowing about one episode won’t kill me.”

His candor sparks interest in you as you nod your head, processing his words. “What do you do for work, Choso?”

“I work from home as an IT,” Choso says. 

“What?” you guffaw. “You wrote a twenty-thousand word entry and you’re only working in IT? That’s a waste of talent.”

“I’m hoping to find something better at some point,” he tilts his head. “I don’t plan on staying in the field for too long. Though, I am good with computers.”

“Sorry,” you apologize, not initially aware about how your statement sounded. “I didn’t mean for what I said to come off so hard, but you definitely have some talent and I don’t want you to leave it to rot. We need a lot of writers within this industry. We need to keep the ideas flowing.”

Choso didn’t come here to network his way into a better life. He always felt like writing was a hobby that he had come to develop over the years after indulging himself in fandom culture. He loved writing, but also feared it. Feared the ideas inside of his head and how people would perceive his ideas. How people just couldn’t see past the wrongs of a character, never being able to tell past fiction and reality anymore— it scared him. However, he did dream of them coming to life. This was his opportunity to do so, but he didn’t want it to seem like that’s why he submitted his fic. He wanted it to garner attention, but only to win. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I understand what you meant. I guess… I never really thought of myself as becoming a writer. Like, yeah, the idea came to my mind, but I was always afraid.”

“I know this is easier said than done,” you stop, your tone getting serious as your voice drops low. “Especially coming from me who’s been working in the industry for the majority of my life, but fear is one of the biggest things to hold you back in life. It’s the one thing that the majority of people let control them. I let it control me for part of mine.”

One thing your father instilled in you was fear. The moment you stepped into the limelight, he wanted you to take certain precautions. Fame could be detrimental to a person and having seen the many scandals through limitless magazines and news stations, he didn’t want you to fall victim to Hollywood. Limited interviews, chaperoned events— he did what a father was supposed to. He kept you safe, but his love knew no bounds and it started to hover. 

When footage of you smoking at sixteen was released, you were under lock and key as you could only go to set and straight back home with him. He kept you under his immediate scrutiny that had you rigid and stunted for it all. “Do you want to die?”

He would fill your mind with these drastic fears, always thinking of the worst. “Do you know what nicotine could do to you? It could ruin your lungs and give you cancer, then you’ll die!”

As an adolescent, you wanted to live vicariously and do what other kids your age did. You didn’t want to lose your childhood because of all these rules as a child actress. Why couldn’t you have both? So, you’d roll your eyes and when your father would least expect it, you’d sneak again, in hopes that this time you wouldn’t get caught.

Then, you turned eighteen and it seemed like all of your father’s fears were right. People were so quick to taint your image because of the boundaries you had set over your own body. It was as if you had no autonomy, no right in what you had to say over yourself as people labeled you all sorts of names— prudish bitch, whore, slut. Whatever name in the book that they could throw at you. 

Finally did you cage yourself in, locking yourself away from the outside world because it had gotten to you. Your father would always look at you in a certain way afterwards, his eyes twinkling as if to say, I told you so. 

Choso can’t help but wonder where that pretty little head of yours has gone, watching you silently as your mind drifts off as you let out a sigh. “My advice is to let that fear go and take what you want by the handle. You have real potential in you, and if you can find your way to make what you love your living, I say go for it. Especially when you have someone under your belt who you can take advantage of.”

You throw him a wink with your last sentence, the corner of your lips curving upwards before leading him to set. “Now, let’s go before I get yelled at for being late.”

You are an experience. That’s what Choso tells himself at the end of the day when he’s back inside of his hotel room, your golden bracelet in hand as he’s underneath the thick comforters as the air conditioner runs icy cold. It glimmers underneath the moonlight as he runs his thumb over it, heavy eyelids that taunt him, telling him to go to sleep. 

And while he soon succumbs to it, you’re an anxious mess rummaging through your belongings as you can’t find the sentimental piece anywhere. You’ve shot text messages out, asking anyone if they’ve seen it, but to no avail. Your mind wanders back to this morning— Choso. That quick glimmer before his hands were shoved in his pocket, but as quick as the thought came, you were twice as fast to dismiss it. 

That voice of your father comes back to mind, him calling you a naive little girl before accepting the role as Beatrice Martin. It comes back to haunt you, questioning why you’re so quick to dismiss a stranger. And you know that deep down, your father is right. You’re still that naive, optimistic little girl. 

DAY THREE

A habit you had developed over the years was fiddling with your bracelet. The thin gold chain dangling on your wrist as you twisted it around in efforts to keep you comfortable. Now that it’s gone, the habit you had worked to stop has returned, but this time in search of the same piece of jewelry. Scratching at your wrist while you still keep a smile on your face. You look out the window, your eyes transfixed with nothing as the moving vehicle blurs everything. Haibara glances back at you, worry etched in his mind, but he’s already asked you if you were fine once. He knows that he’ll push the limit if he asks again. 

So, when he’s in front of the hotel, he keeps on that bright smile as he parks the vehicle, “We’re here, ma’am.”

His smile falters when you don’t correct him for using the term ma’am, lips quivering as you climb out and walk past, only muttering out a weak, “thank you.”

Get yourself together, you chastise yourself. It’s just a bracelet. Just breathe. 

It’s like a switch goes off inside of you when Choso appears, cutting out your worries as your legs move towards him. You force yourself not to worry, your eyes twinging in faux happiness as your voice gets chirpy, a few octaves higher than normal when you greet him and pull him in for a hug. “I hope you’re ready for the day!”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Choso fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. “I think I am. Still not sure about being filmed, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

“If you’re still having second thoughts, I can talk to the camera crew and work something out,” you say. “We can keep the footage to a minimum.”

“No, no, no!” Choso shakes his head. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You won’t,” you say, pulling out your phone from your purse. “I’ll message them right now and see if—”

Choso immediately reaches out for you, grabbing your wrist tightly to stop you. It was a subconscious movement on his behalf, not aware of what he was doing before it’s too late. It catches him by surprise as it does you. And he hates how you’re looking at him, eyes widened as you pull yourself out of his grasp, Haibara about to intervene. “I—I am— I’m so sorry. I just… It’s fine if they record. I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” you breathe, voice low as it cracks towards the end. “It’s fine.” It sounds like you’re more so trying to convince yourself that. “Let’s just get going before we’re late.”

The tension in the car eased the moment the two of you were led out, the period of silence being a heavy relief as you hopped out of your side and let out a deep breath. You have your hair out today, letting your curls free in the unrelenting wind that blows it out of the perfectly curated shape it was in. You have to hold your hair up in order for the stray strands to twirl its way into your eyes, careful on your feet in the heels you’re wearing today. The skirt of your floral maxi dress blows through the wind as your hand casts a shadow over your face. Oh, how Choso wishes he could have captured the moment on camera at just how pretty you are, feeling like he never says it enough. You make him feel inadequate how you manage to always shine bright. 

“Whew,” you huff. “It’s windy today.”

Your heels click when you’re faced with Choso. “The camera men are ready. You’re good to head on in, now?”

When Choso nods, you smile and hold out your hand for him. He stares at it for a few seconds before understanding what the simple gesture means. His heart beat skyrockets when he fixes his hand into yours, fingers intermingling with each other’s as you take the lead. He, however, holds open the door for you, trying to fix the erratic pace within his chest as he enters the establishment with you. You lean into him, your grip tightening. “Don’t worry about anything. Try not to focus on the cameras too much and just look at me. It’ll be a bit easier that way.”

Listening to your advice had put him at ease for the majority of the time as the two of you had started the day with brunch, simple conversations that ran smoothly. All throughout, you kept close proximity to him as the two of you ventured through California on two feet, bringing him around shops he found interest in and other places. 

Choso feels at such an ease that he forgets all about the camera crew that’s trailing around the two of them, following their every move. With your fingers intertwined with his, it set him at ease that he got lost in a train of thought. You had to nudge him back to reality for his eyes to flicker back on you as he let out a, “hm?”

“You didn’t hear a word I said,” you laugh. 

“I’m sorry,” his face heats up. You shake your head, fanning it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you sigh. “I was just telling you that there’s this spot that’s really pretty. If you ever decide to move here and bring your partner, this is a good place to go to.”

“Okay,” Choso nods. The sun is starting to set as the two of you are brought to this spot deep within the park. It’s secluded around this time as the sky starts to darken. You bring him over to a bench, bending down to adjust the straps of your heels. Taking them off momentarily, you stretch out your feet as you exhale. “If I had any common sense, I would’ve worn sneakers.”

“At least you know for next time,” Choso shrugs.

“Yeah,” you say, pursing out your lips. There’s a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as the heat of day simmers down to a calming cool. It’s tranquil as you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. Except, Choso, however. He’s staring off into space before he blurts out, “Y’know, I’ve never been in a relationship.”

It takes you out of your trance, your head tilting as you look at him in curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, that was random, but I was just thinking about it and I’m grateful that my first one is with someone I deeply admire, even if it’s not real.”

“Can I ask why?” you hum. “Why haven't you been out on a date before?”

Choso squirms, eyes diverting away from yours. “I can’t give you a specific answer, but I would say that deep down, it’s my fears controlling me— yet again.”

You nudge him. “We got to work on that. You’re a handsome guy. I’m pretty sure that someone would love to be with you.”

“Yeah, but what if we only end up hurting each other?”

“I’m afraid that’s part of life,” you sigh. “Sometimes people hurt other people, whether we mean to do it intentionally or not. It’s a good thing that you recognize that now, so when you actually find that someone, you make that conscious effort.”

“What if I never find that someone?” Choso asks. “What if I never find someone who makes me happy?”

“Then you find happiness within yourself.” Your eyes sparkle as the wind picks up, blowing your hair into your face. The cameras pan in on the both of you, noticing how Choso’s eyes are glued to you in such longing. Brown eyes that are hyper-fixated on you. His eyebrows crinkle together in amazement at how you always seem to say the right things. “How do you do that? How do you always know what to say?”

You shake your head, your bottom lip juts out. “I don’t always know, but… some of it’s just recycled advice.”

Your laugh is contagious, bringing him to laughter at your statement as you stand up. Shortly afterwards, the camera men start to pack up their stuff, bidding you their farewells as they leave ahead of the two of you. You’re both still sitting on the bench despite the nipping cold that bites at your skin. The conversation continues as you start to tell Choso the worst dates you’ve been on in efforts to not make him feel so down about his lack of experience. 

When it gets too dark, you call Haibara to meet you at the park. With thirty minutes left to spare as the two of you start walking down the trail again, you begin to grow more curious about the boy. “You’ve had your first kiss before, right?”

“Yeah,” Choso scoffs. “I’m not completely fearful of relationships.”

You throw your hands up in defense. “I was just wondering—” Nudging him, you give him a sly smile. “—But look at you. The playboy.”

“I’m not a player, just… they never turned into dates.”

“Because of you or them?”

He has to take a moment to ponder on it. “A bit of both.”

“Mmm,” you shake your head in disagreement. “I think it’s a bit more you.”

His squirming is your answer, your laughter filling the silent air as you both stand in the parking lot now. You find another bench to sit on, Choso joins you as another wave of silence crosses by. Your eyes are on him dangerously as they squint over at him. There’s barely any cars parked, only the park ranger vehicle across the street, so you’re not fearful of any possible paparazzi. Still, you try to look through the green tufts of bushes and trees, trying to check any spot they could be hiding before you lean closer to Choso. “Let me kiss you.”

Eyes widening, his body stiffens up completely at your suggestion. “What?”

“Let me show you what it’ll feel like when someone you care about truly kisses you,” you suggest. Your head tilts to the side as you start to sway. His pupils turn to hearts, brightening up at the proposition as he faintly nods. An ‘okay’ falling from his lips before he’s inching closer instinctively. You’re meeting him halfway, noses touching before the lips. Your breath against each other the only semblance of heat provided as you look into his eyes. They’re glossy as they flicker from yours to your lips. Before you could have any second thoughts, Choso takes the opportunity.

Crashing into you, his teeth clash with yours and you have to push him back to gain more control, physically telling him to ease down a bit. His body tenses as you inch closer to him, pulling him forth and getting him to relax. He gains more confidence, a hand coming to pull at your waist in a need. You instigate it further with the swipe of your tongue, deepening the kiss much further than anticipated. Both arms snaked around your waist, your chest is pressed against Choso’s as a hum vibrates off his chest. 

It should’ve signaled you to detach yourself, but no. What does, however, are the bright headlights of the dark vehicle pulling in and the steady hum of the engine as Haibara parks in front of the two of you. Pulling away, you stare into Choso’s dilated pupils, seeing how his chest rises and falls. Silently, you stand up. “We should go.”

You can feel Haibara’s curious eyes on you, the both of you, as he holds the door open for the two of you. The car ride is silent the moment you step in it. Choso’s mindsets ablaze, a course of fire lighting up the path in his brain as he taps his feet against the vehicle’s floor. You, however, remain indifferent as you look through the window, for once, not needing to feel for your gold bracelet. 

DAY FOUR

It’s very important to be able to differentiate fiction from reality. Choso feels that it’s true when it comes to fan fiction. The many times people have come into his inbox to complain about the content he rights for and the morality of the characters or how he made his reader to be. Hate messages made to bring him down and deter him from writing fan fiction, but he never gave in. They went on and on for days, even weeks, about the choices he made the reader take and it grew exhausting. Were they truly watching the same television show after all? The entire premise was about morally gray characters and the bullshit decisions they made, and suffering the consequences after it. Why did the reader need to be someone standing on moral high grounds during the apocalypse? 

‘Oh, I would never do that as a reader.’ ‘Oh, you mischaracterized me here in this fic. I’m not a bitch in real life.’ ‘Are we watching the same show because Yamaza would NEVER!!’

He had endured it all. But, personally, his favorites were the one telling him to commit suicide. He’d run to his mutuals quickly to make fun of those who hid behind anons, chatting together in their private discord servers about them and their hypocrisies. Then, he’d run back on Tumblr to delete them because he’s gotten so used to the nasty climate that he no longer addresses things that aren’t detrimental. Unfortunately for them, they’re not one of them. 

There’s a media literacy crisis, where people don’t understand the plot devices of antagonists and their purposes. And if they do, it’s because a conventionally attractive actor or actress plays them in the film. Truthfully, however, they don’t understand. They believe the moment something is conveyed in darkness and negativity is the creator saying that they endorse those actions, reading or watching something purely for the enjoyment without really and truly dissecting what they’ve just consumed. That’s why it’s so easy for Choso to dismiss people like that who try to question his moral standing. He knows what he stands for. He knows that he’s a good person. He doesn’t need a stranger online to dictate whether or not he is. 

However, he finds his mind slowly deteriorating, mixing up what’s real and what’s fake when it comes to you. You were wrong for kissing him. How could you fill his mind up with these false illusions, showing him how someone who cared about him would kiss him? Were you insinuating that you did— that, in actuality, you wanted more? You after all did let things escalate, having him pull you closer, deepening the kiss along with it. 

You had confused the poor boy, infiltrating his mind with ideas as he started to yearn for more. He started to desire you in a way that seemed to exceed what was already there for you, lighting a forest fire that you alone could not contain. 

Choso wasn’t just gifted with the written word. He was also exceptional with a computer. He liked to call himself tech savvy, a hacker sounded too juvenile in his opinion. His position paid him a decent amount and it led him to live comfortably, so he never complains. He can take off many days and not have to worry about his bills, but he preferred working on a steady schedule. It was easy to jump from one monitor to the next anyway, making writing fan fiction and assuring that websites ran smoothly was a simple thing he could multitask within hours of the day. 

However, he had to admit that he never utilized his skill to the full potential. Not until now, where he felt like it was a dire need to. Finding your location just as simple as a quick google search, quickly climbing out of bed to throw on some joggers and a hoodie. He didn’t think Haibara would agree with his choices, so he wasted thirty dollars on a trip, hopping out of the car and standing outside of the gated community. Checking his phone, he skimmed through the pictures and screenshots, typing in the code before the sidegate opened and he was led in. 

He kept his head down as much as he could, peeking up at the buildings to count down the numbers. It took some time where he nearly took the wrong turn, but it seemed to be a blessing in disguise when he finally did find your exact location. Ten o’ clock at night, the moon shines down on him as he tries to find a concealed spot to stand in. A light is on, letting him know that you’re awake as he follows the shine of it. 

He can’t get a clear view of you, blinds that block the way as well as your white sheer curtains. However, they’re not securely shut, where if stands off to the side, he can get a clear vision of you. With your phone in hand, you’re oblivious to the pair of lurking eyes that stand outdoors. Your gaze fixated on the small screen in front of you as you checked your calendar for tomorrow. Halfway into the week, tomorrow there are still some plans fixed for Choso and the other winners as it’ll be game day. Another day filled with cameras on you as they video the experience. The day after, it will be the day before the last, a farewell dinner hosted for the contestants’ goodbyes. The last day, their goodbye remarks as they have it to themselves for the most part. They can make last minute trips if needs be before their designated drivers are assigned to drop them off back at the airport. 

You set your phone down on the dresser next to you as you stand at the door of your bedroom. A yawn drags out of you as you stretch, pushing your chest forward as you raise your hand up wide. You know what would calm you down and get you ready for bed— a steaming, hot shower. You pull off your top from over your head, revealing your simple black bra from underneath as you aim for the laundry basket, the shirt landing inside perfectly. 

You weren’t ever much of a clean freak, especially when you were constantly on the go. You find your towel resting on your dresser near the window, reaching to get it when you see something in the corner of your eye. Was that a flash? You fix yourself to get lower, trying to see if your eyesight was playing games with you as you shift the curtain to the side, peaking through the blinds. 

Cursing to himself, Choso feels caught as he ducks down, pulling the hoodie over his head as he crawls on his knees. Getting out of your eye line, he squirms as he feels a tightness in his pants. Subconsciously, his hands go to hold his length, palming at it through the soft material before the coast is clear and you’re no longer suspicious. Unfortunately, when you’re leaving your room and heading to the shower, the glass is blurred and there’s no way he could get a clear shot from there. So, he calls it a night.

It’s fine anyway, because when he’s back in his hotel room, ridding himself of his joggers and hoodie, cock hard and prominent in his hand, he’s got the perfect shot of you to get himself off to. He squeezes, hissing as his hips arch from the bed. Tip leaking of precum as he decides to himself that you’d look prettier naked. 

DAY FIVE

There’s heavy tension in the air. Something so suffocating that the sharpest knife wouldn’t be able to slice through it. Though, you just believe that it’s your anxiety eating at you during this time of year. It is habitual of it to hit you now. Unlike the dresses you’ve been typically sporting on the events with Choso, today you’ve decided to keep it simple with a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Your hair combed in one and perfectly gelled back, the only thing seemingly out of place are the tendrils that hang in front of your ears. 

Part of you think it’s the growing exhaustion that’s been making you feel like shit lately. You figure with the way you’ve yawned for the third time in thirty minutes as your back slouches in your seat, the greasy pizza half eaten as your eyes are so close to shutting. It’s the deep chuckle of Sukuna that livens you back up, him sitting on your left as he leans forward. “Are you sure it’s right that you fall asleep next to me? You might wake up as a brand new person.”

Nudging him in his rib cage, he barely moves a muscle under all of that muscle. He smiles, revealing his sharp canines. You glare up at him, not faltering to his piercing crimson eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Someone always says that before they all looked fucked up,” he booms in laughter before playfully pushing at your shoulder. You know he only means it in love and jest. “Wake up. You’re the last person I expected falling asleep at festivities. You’re stealing my job.”

“I know,” you groan, straightening your posture as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “I think I need a break.”

“Don’t we fuckin’ all,” Geto agrees, chiming into the conversation. “But we’ve got a long way to go, so suck it up.”

And you try to for the most part, ordering a few drinks to get your blood pumping and the night to go on even faster. It’s a nice evening that you get to spend with your colleagues and their contestants, dragging along Choso to whichever game seems the most interesting before scoring a shitload of tickets. You impress him with how tactical and intricate you are, eyeballing the machines as your tongue sticks out as you try to drop the ball at the right moment. You’re a very competitive person, he’s come to learn, pushing him out the way when he misses a shot before showing him how it's done. You become so lively as the neon lights flash around the dark ceilings, bouncing off the walls and onto you. Those few drinks really worked. 

You throw yourself in Choso’s arms, winning yet again another game as tickets start rolling out. You had made a bet with Sukuna and his partner that you and Choso could gain more tickets than them and you’d be damned if you lost to that jackass. You loved Sukuna, but he’d constantly tease you for your loss. This time, you wanted to be the one to do it. 

“Yuh,” you grunt, voice rasping towards the end. “We’re so beating their asses!”

You try to pull away from Choso’s grasp, but he holds onto you tightly, seemingly refusing to let go. It nearly reminds you of the short incident with your phone and how he was so eager to snatch it from your grasp. It alarms you, eyes widening as you push at his chest. “Choso, let go.”

He falls from his trance, glossy eyes that die down its euphoria as he lets you go. Tensing up like he did last time and immediately becoming apologetic, “Shit, I—I’m sorry.”

You’re really hoping you didn’t lead him astray with that kiss. Taking a step back, you give him a side glance before turning on your heel. “Yeah, I’m gonna go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Heading to the food station, you spot Geto sitting down on a stool next to the counter. One arm over the filthy marble top, his back is turned towards you as he has a slushie in the next hand. You grab a seat next to him, the scraping of it alarming the man as he looks back. “Oh, hey! Are you having fun yet?”

“Yeah,” you hum with uncertainty. It’s his key detection that something’s wrong. Eyebrows furrowing, he’s shaking his head and you’re grateful you ran into him of all people. You’ve been needing to voice out your concerns. “No, you’re not. What’s up?”

He spins around his chair, his entire body facing you. Before he could let you speak, he’s already belting out your main concern. “Is it— what’s his name… Choso?”

“How’d you know?” The look that Geto gives you makes your stomach drop, grimacing as you slouch forward and silently groan. 

“If I’m being honest, (Your Name),” he starts. “His entry was the start of it. I get it some fans are really dedicated to their works and what they commit to, but if you read over his entry, it was highly fixated on you. 

You exhale. You had taken notice of that, but like everything else about Choso, you had decided to ignore it, paying so much attention to everything else and impressed with his dedication that you didn’t once find it alarming. 

“Not only that, but… Just an hour ago before we went back to the arcade, did you not notice how he was staring down Sukuna?” Geto continues to point out. “I don’t blame you if you didn’t. You were about to fall asleep, but he was giving him murder eyes.”

Geto wanted to say more, but he didn’t want you to feel like you were dumb for not noticing the signs from earlier. “But, what did you want to talk about?”

You were kind of hesitant, not wanting to feel like a complete fool for not mentioning it earlier, but better now than never, right? “You’re right. He is kind of… off?”

You console in Geto, mentioning how Choso tried snatching your phone away from you and just a couple of minutes ago, where he wouldn’t let you go. You noted your missing bracelet and how you couldn’t find it, telling Geto that you suspected it to be him, but still holding your doubts. “You are a messy person,” he noted. 

Your mind flashes to last night, but you thought you were pushing it too far now. There wasn’t any way that he could know your location. You didn’t want to mention the kiss because you can already see your faults in that. You didn’t need to be told that that was a stupid decision, you’re already starting to pay for your poor choices. “I don’t know, Sug… It was like, he was in this state and he wasn’t aware of what he was doing until after.”

“Or,” Geto butts in, pointing a finger out in suggestion. “He does know and he’s trying to play it off.”

You nod. That is a possibility, you think. “But, I’ll see—”

“Speaking of the devil,” Geto comes to a stand, eyes fixed behind him before another voice speaks and calls out your name, “(Your Name), is everything all right?”

You notice it now. Turning to Choso and watching how his eyes would flicker to Geto, a darkness possessing him. You stammered on your words, trying to find the best possible excuse you could make. “I, um— Sorry, I saw Geto and…”

“Sorry, man,” Geto smiles, intervening as he steps forward. His eyes crinkle like a sly fox as he looks Choso up and down. “I didn’t mean to hog (Your Name). We just started talking and lost track of time.”

Choso’s body relaxes in understanding, but there’s still that sliver of doubt inside him as Geto walks past. Choso turns to look back, and Geto’s still looking back at him as he walks away before his eyes flicker over to you. He thought Choso wouldn’t notice it, but he saw the subtle nod. Immediately raising his suspicions, Choso’s glued to you for the rest of the night. When your phone buzzes, you’re too scared to pull it out until you’re in the comfort of your home. A message from Geto: If push comes to shove, you know I have your back, (Your Name). Only two more days left. Hopefully nothing happens.

His words give you a sliver of relief, but you should’ve remained cautious, a pair of brown eyes lurking through your bedroom window. 

DAY SIX

You wake up feeling much better the next morning, the day running smoothly on set as the majority of your scenes run smoothly. You’ve paid no mind to Choso despite his constant eye on you, never seeming bored or tiresome of watching you all day and following you like a lost puppy. Sleeping has given you some clarity in what’s led you here, dissecting his actions when you woke up in the morning and coming to terms with your ignorance and your naivety. As much as legal action crossed your mind, you don’t have any substantial evidence to detain him, only his weird behavior to speak on verbatim. 

Nonetheless, it becomes easier throughout the day as your schedule is busy, never getting much alone time with him, minus small breaks and your lunch period. It isn’t until the day gets darker and the set is being cleared do you worry more, as the farewell dinner is in a couple of hours. In a tight-fitted silk dress, the royal blue looks perfect against your skin tone as you walk down the steps from your front door, the white shawl draped over you, providing you warmth as it grows chilly. The silver clutch in your hand sparkles as you reach inside of it to check the time. Haibara should be here any minute now. 

And just like clockwork do you see the bright headlights shine as he turns the corner. When he parks the car, you don’t give him a second to jump out, rushing to pull open the door handle and jump inside with a giggle. He grunts as he lets go of his, slapping the dashboard. “Ah, darn! I forgot to switch the locks before I parked.”

“You’re getting slow, Yu,” you smile. “I couldn’t wait any longer. You had me standing in the cold.”

“You could’ve always waited inside,” he remarks snidely, putting the car in reverse before pulling off. Haibara puts on a station that he knows you like, and you immediately start humming along to the music as he’s fixated on the road ahead of him. As your mind drifts off, you begin to wonder. “Yu?” his humming being your indicator to continue. “What’d you think about Choso? You enjoyed chauffeuring him around?”

Haibara hums, hesitant on his response as he looks through the rearview mirror. He’s seen a few of your exchanges with Choso, and they were all enough to set an unease within his stomach. Of the couple years that he’s been working with you, he’s come to learn that you’re really down-to-earth and sweet. With someone who’s grown up in the limelight, he first believed that he would get the exact opposite of that.

He’s had his fair share in the media, and you still withheld some things from it in regards to your father after returning back to the big screen. There were still some things that you were working through and that was fine. What he’s come to learn about you, though, is that you were still trying to hold onto some semblance of living an ordinary life. You took on this opportunity to help a fan, yes, to open up their horizons and have them utilize you as a connection to pursue any dream they had. However, you had crossed a line.

Watching you kiss Choso, it set a weird feeling in his stomach, but he also believed that you knew what you were doing— whatever that was. Keeping his eyes on the road, Haibara let out a heavy sigh. “He’s…”

“Be honest, Haibara,” you tilt your head, looking at him through the mirror. He exhales, staring back at the road. He clenches the steering wheel tightly as he shrugs, “I’ll just say that I’ll be glad when it’s only you I have to chauffeur in two days.”

At the dinner, you cling onto the shall, your feet tapping on the floor as everyone’s waiting for their entrees. Reaching for your glass, you twirl the straw with your tongue, sipping on your strawberry banana smoothie. You’ve barely spoken to Choso, feeling his eyes graze you the entire evening at your silence. It’s stifling.

“Are you ready to head back?” you try to ease the air around you.

Choso tilts his head. “I’m having mixed feelings. It’s a nice environment here, but I miss the comfort of my bed.”

You nod, continuing to sip your drink. Choso’s piercing brown eyes watching the way your lips pucker around the plastic. You retract almost immediately, clearing your throat. “How long is your flight back?”

“Around seven hours, I believe,” Choso contemplates. “So, it’ll be a long while.”

“Hopefully, you have some things to occupy your time,” you chuckle. “I know I need a few things to keep myself from getting antsy on long flights.”

“Don’t worry,” Choso smirks. “I got a few things that’ll surely keep me busy.”

With the tone of his voice, you’re not sure what he means by it. Maybe he’s just being playful or he knows something you don’t. You can’t quite determine if it’s your paranoia feeling this way, but you fall silent once more until the waitress comes back with a few extra hands as she sets down everyone’s plate. Reaching for your knife and fork, the back of Choso’s hand grazes the back of yours and you subconsciously stiffen up, but you choose to ignore it as you start to slice through your steak. 

Chatter starts up, livening the tables as your eyes brighten up as everyone enjoys their time. You’re in a heavy fit of laughter from a joke Nobara told everyone. Your face heats up as a fork in another spoonful of food in your mouth when you feel a hand against your thigh. You choke on your food, spitting it on your plate and calling for attention. Everyone’s eyes are on you now as Geto has his eyes on you first before they flicker to Choso. “Are you okay, (Your Name)?”

You nod, not wanting to draw too much attention as you nudge away Choso’s hand before they can travel any higher. Your heart starts racing as you try to control your breathing, your eyes watering. “Y–Yeah, I—” you clear out your throat again. “—I’m fine. Just, food nearly went down the wrong pipe.”

“Are you sure—”

“She said she’s fine,” Choso butts in, his hand returning to its spot on your thigh, aiming higher as his grip tightens. You clench your legs together, throwing him a look. 

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” you frown, your hand reaching for his wrist and dragging it away, the action more apparent to everyone now. Sukuna intervenes now.

“Hey,” he throws a threatening glare at Choso. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I suggest it stops now if you want to get back home safely.”

The two men have a stare off, Choso clenching his jaw as he doesn’t want to back down. A vein stands prominent on his forehead, his face heating up as his stance comes to falter, breaking eye contact with Sukuna first. He knows who to pick his battles with, and Sukuna isn’t one of them. Shoulders falling, he pushes himself from out of the seat as the legs scrape loudly against the floor. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, but trudging out of the restaurant. 

Choso calls for Haibara earlier than expected, alarming the man when he pulls up in front of the restaurant to see Choso sitting down on a bench, clutching onto himself as his eyes wander before spotting him. He could only jump to conclusions and say something happened. He could feel the thickening tension in the air as Choso hurried inside, pulling at the door handle before Haibara could shut it himself. 

Curiosity piqued Haibara as he hopped into the driver’s seat and glanced through the rearview mirror. A soft hum leaving his lips as he tries to decipher whether or not it’s a smart choice to ask. “So, how was dinner?”

He watches him, constantly glancing through the rearview mirror and the road. Choso looks in his direction before averting eye contact. The man shrugs as his head hits the window. “Nothing special. Didn’t feel like being there anymore.”

Something told Haibara that was all he was going to get from him, but surely, you had much more to say. When Haibara arrived in front of the hotel, he didn’t even bother to hop out the front seat as Choso was already clutching onto the door handle, jumping out of the vehicle before it could even fully stop. Haibara didn’t feel guilty when he couldn’t say, Have a good night. 

Inwardly, Choso was fuming. He wanted to do something more. He wanted to say more, but Sukuna was a hulking man that would have his ass handed to him in a matter of seconds. The moment he entered his hotel room, he was pacing around it. Stepping over his suitcases and clothes that still lay across the room haphazardly, he clenches his fists, nails digging into the palm of his hands. How could you embarrass me like this? How could you let them embarrass me like that? Did all of this just mean nothing to you?

Whenever Choso didn’t know what to do with his overwhelming feelings, he tended to write. Like clockwork, his body moved for his carry on bag, unzipping it to reach for the device as he pushed away a pile on the bed. He squinted through the bright screen as he opened up a new document and cracked his knuckles. His chest felt tight as he started breathing heavily, and before he could think about exactly what he wanted to write about, his fingers padded away on the keyboard. 

DAY SEVEN

You hadn’t seen Choso after last night’s event, and you were grateful for it. There was supposed to be a send-off that you would attend, but after hearing about the mishap, you had been given the okay to miss out on it. You had decided to go to set early instead, practicing your lines despite having them all memorized as you were cooped up inside your trailer. 

In the small couch, your head pulls to the side as you lean against your hand. You let out a sigh as you’re coming to grow accustomed to the missing piece of jewelry. Instead, you start gnawing on the pendant around your neck as your legs are hiked up on the couch as you hold the stack of papers. Comfortable in your spot, the buzz of a phone alarms you out of your concentration as you reach to pick it up. An unknown number pops on the screen and your face drops when you read the short overview of the message:

It’s Choso. And before you think about blocking me, I have one more thing for you to read, then you can go ahead and never hear from me again.

You should really do it, go and block him. Your finger hovering over the three dots as you search for the five-letter word. However, another buzz vibrates through your hand as another notification from him pops up— a document labeled ChosoYN.docx. And against your better judgment, you tap out of the options and click on it. And against your better judgment, you read through all three pages. 

In another life, you would be mine and you would be happy with me. Oh, those days would be glorious ones as my pale skin would traverse up your golden. In the silky sheets of our king-sized bed, your body would lay pliant as your short nightgown would rise up above your hips. The sun would kiss your beautiful skin, but not as tender as I would. 

My tongue would drag over you, my spit painting over you with liquid diamonds and only accentuating your beauty. My love, you’re a marvelous living statue that the world doesn’t deserve, only I do. 

You’d call me your husband, my hands pulling at your hips to meet me closer. Goosebumps rising against your skin, you look so pretty when you first wake up that I have no choice but to have you. Ten digits that run down the expanse of you, teasing in all the right places as I am so close to your sweetness. Your cunt my forever prize that no one else can indulge in. You’re pretty in the laced pink panties I had bought for you, a gift to signify my undying love, to soon be ridden of as I pull it down your thighs. 

You’d drip for me, an endless ocean that I’d thankfully drown in as the center of said underwear is stained in your love. Your love for me. You look at me with those pretty eyes, silently begging for more before the soft plea falls from your lips itself. “Please…” you’d say with sultry, plump lips that’d be wetted and I have no other choice but to dip down and give you a sweet kiss. Tongues dancing together, the fervor we share is too much yet never enough. Your back arching off the bed, covered breasts pressing into my chest as your erect nipples poke through the thin fabric.

Your glossy eyes shut as you indulge yourself into me, your moans singing in a beautiful melody that the birds could never rival. And I could only burst in pride, being the only man that can make you feel this way. Arms wrapped around your body, holding onto your hips with a secure grip, only you could make a man ever so needy. In only the thin fabric of my loose boxers, my erection presses against you, alleviating only some of the friction you’re hoping to feel. My tip leaks with pre, staining the dark pair of underwear as I continue to press into you so shamelessly. 

I leave you with your lips swollen, nibbling on the bottom lip before completely retracting myself from you, your eyes dilated in a heavy lust-blown haven that I could swim in. I can only pepper more on your skin as you giggle, arms wrapping around my neck before I feel the painful press of your nails digging into my skin. And again, “Choso, please…”

I could never truly depart from you for every second of the way, my lips making an invisible path down from your lips to your neck, sucking on that sweet spot that has you mewling in milliseconds. So high-pitched they are as you grow ever so needy when I leave, your tender breasts getting more love as I adore on them. And truly, I adore them, pulling down the straps of your dress and them falling out one by one. Pretty dark nipples that point right at me, calling my name so gently that I salivate. My tongue lulls out as I lean forward, taking each of your breasts into my mouth. Your back is arching off the bed as you only feel euphoria. You pull me closer, nails digging deeper and daring to break skin. I’d love you to, I’d love to have your marks shown off as a sign of your possession over me. There’s no shame in immense love.

But, lower and lower I go, kissing at your tummy, licking into your navel before that delectable cunt shines like a treasure. It glistens like porcelain as the sun continues to watch us in all of our glory. It’s the finest piece of China that I sometimes regret ruining, but never regret loving. A teasing thumb presses down on your clit, eliciting a whine from your lips and a twitch from your legs in attempts to trap me there. 

“You just love to tease me, don’t you?” you say in a needy breath, eyes hooded as you peer down at me. “Gosh, Choso…”

“You’ll get what you want soon enough,” I respond. “Don’t I always?”

“Mphm,” you hum. “After your torture, yes.”

You always know how to make me laugh, a breathy chuckle leaving my lips before I press down on that fat pleasure point. Hips rising from the bed, I have to use one arm to hold you down, pressing my weight down to hold one of your legs from moving as the other kicks out. Rubbing tandem circles in you, I watch from below in how you writhe and moan for me, and only me. Your slick leaks from your honey hole, painting you forever in a gloss as I have you like this. 

Oh, how I delve in this— the sweet torture you love to complain about. How I love to slowly take care of you, giving every ounce of your body the love and care it truly needs to survive. I put you in a haze that leaves your eyes shutting and your head twisting and turning as your stomach churns for more, never truly satisfied. But you will be, you’ll always be when you’re with me. Dipping past your clit, my thumb runs through your folds, making your juices bubble as I make it dance around. 

Your hands reach down to tangle inside of my hair and then caressing my face to pull me out of paradise to bring me to heaven. A silent yet forceful coax as your fingers tangle in my dark hair in efforts to get more. My impatient angel you are. That I am, too, however. My cock stirring inside my underwear as I press myself into the bed, an exhale leaving me as I finally hear your pleas and dip forward. 

My lips pucker, a wet and chaste kiss against your clit as one finger dives inside of you. A stretch sweet, but not addicting like my cock’s as my digit enters you, warmed by your honeyed walls. You only make it worse. Me rutting into the bed, making me feel like I’m back in more youthful years. Your moans are more drawn out through the air, humming out in pleasure as your eyes shut in careless bliss as your fingers still are still knotted inside my hair. They pull me closer to you as I suckle on the tender nub that has you singing out my name in a lustful symphony. 

My digits thrust in a languid dance that conjures up these addicting sounds, gathering your slick in a gluttonous effort to take what’s rightfully mine from you. With the swipe of my tongue, I can taste it and the vibrations of my satisfaction run deep through your body as I press my fingers further inside. They bottom out, curling inside as your hips buck upwards. They twist and contort in the right directions, having you grind upwards in attempts for more. And I give and give, picking up the pace as I only want to take and take. 

I feel everything that’s you. Nose burrowing inside of your curled bush, inhaling your raw scent that only makes me crave you more ferociously. Fingers that are sopping wet as your juices drip down to my wrists and stain the warm yellow beneath us. Your wetness can be heard, the sound of your pussy loud inside of your shared bedroom alongside your whimpers and wanton moans. Head thrown back as those butterflies control your body, flying down to your stomach. Your legs twitch as your cunt pulsates around my digits, your voice squeaking as you gasp. “Choso! ‘M about’ta cum!”

“Go on, pretty girl,” my voice reverberated against you. “Give me what’s mine.”

Fingers leaving you to hold onto your legs, pulling you closer to my face, my tongue dips inside of your heat as it drags your orgasm out of you. You’re calling my name out as your fingers press into my scalp as I hum in between your legs, your thighs tensing up as your milky cum paints my tongue. Your essence is an elixir, rejuvenating me back to life as I clean you up, making your cunt sparkle the moment I drag myself away. A thin web of spit breaking once I sit up.

It’s apparent now. My heavy need for you as I’m on my knees against the bed. You blink away the haze, chest rising and falling as your beautiful pupils finally look up at me. An exhausted smile beaming from your face as they beckon me over. I fall to you, taking your lips in mine again. You can taste yourself, taste just how good you are as your love for me is written all over it. 

Together, we hum in a dire need for more as your hips leave the bed and meet my erection. Devious little fingers of yours that dip to cup at my hardened cock, palming at my covered length like a little minx and causing me to grind into your hand. You giggle when I pull away, knowing exactly what you’re doing, knowing that I’m putty in your hands. Oh, how you have full control over me. 

And I let you.

I let you take out my cock, revealing it to the cold touch of the air. Massively hard inside of your hand as you run the palm of it down the undersides, it still leaks the translucent mess of precum. You stop to hold it at the base, your thumb running down the thick vein that runs down it. “You love to withhold what you want from me. Doesn’t it in pain you?”

“It never pains me to please you first.” I hold no shame in my undying devotion for you, my twinkling brown pupils that swallow you up in the very moment before my lips are back on yours once more. Grinding into your hand, it’s nearly pathetic how quickly a moan falls from me. My eyes shutting as I bite down on your bottom lip, my high-pitched whimpers rivaling yours. Your knees point to the ceiling before caging me in, legs wrapping around the expanse of my waist as you grip my length. A delicious squeeze to it before my reddened tip touches your clit. You get on me so much for withholding what’s rightfully yours, but ultimately doing the same to me as you press my length in between your folds. Your hips rolling when I pull away from you, a string of saliva follows before the band breaks. You look down, in between your legs to watch how your pussy coats my cock, feeling how I twitch against you as you only have me yearning for more. 

“Is this your payback?” is my question before I spot that sparkle in your eyes. You shrug. “Something like that.”

Finally, the tip of my length kisses your entrance, your hips arching upwards as I meet you in the middle. We sing together in harmony, moaning as I sheath myself inside of you, my hips stilling for moments before they retract. I’ve set the tone, a beautiful melody as skin slaps against skin and our breathy sounds course the room. The drill of my cock is enough to make you a delirious mess, filling the morning air with your pleasure as your pussy continues to gush out for me in a copious splendor. 

My name is a mantra, summoning something deep within me that coaxes my orgasm, but our bodies, intertwined as one move in sync as I feel how your cunt pulsates around my length. Your legs twitch, flexing and contracting before you’re rasping out my name. “Choso, I’m—”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it once more. “C’mon, give me what’s mine.”

I am completely still inside of you when my release becomes overbearing, spurting my cum deep inside of your womb as your walls try to fight back. Your eyes squint shut as your mouth falls into a perfect ‘O.’ You milk me completely while simultaneously painting my length in your milk white honey. Like a bee, I’ve come to pollinate, hoping that you’ll bear my children as I come down from my high yet never leaving your sweetness. 

And when I do, I kiss one last time for the moment before pulling away. My eyes continue to shine with my everlasting adoration for you. “I love you.”

You feel ashamed with yourself when you clench your thighs, arousal pooling in your underwear as you close out. Finally, you block him (The document is well saved on your phone).

( author's note. ) thank you so much for taking the time to read this. it's my first time writing for choso, so please tell me how i did in the comments or reblogs !

[httpskuzuu]

L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.

Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader

This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me

Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader

Idk english, I don't like english, let me

summary: the title :D

tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk

Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.

I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.

With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.

Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.

Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.

You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.

First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.

You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.

He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.

He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.

Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.

He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.

Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.

And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.

He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.

Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏

Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.

That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.

Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.

Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.

Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.

But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.

Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.

Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.

He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.

Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.

He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.

He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.

I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai

Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀

The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.

It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.

Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.

He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.

You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.

You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.

The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.

He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.

You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.

You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.

Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.

I am sleep deprived

[pinkyqily]

LJ AND HER SUPER COOL GIRLFRIEND [Lauren.James x reader]

Summary: Your girlfriend asked you to help her braid her hair and who are you to decline.

A/N: finally putting out a fic after months of not writing this is a fic that randomly came to me and I had to write it, I plan on updating this fic from time to time so stay tuned for that,if you have any requests for this feel free to let me know in my inbox and I'm also taking new requests if you have any send them my way.

ALSO THIS A REPOST FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT

Contains: Lauren james x blk reader, reader is black but feel free to use your imagination, why is the title this you may ask because this fic is like those romcom with the werid ass name that aren't that werid but ppl don't get it, plus this was how the fic idea came to me lj had a really cool gf so yeah, there's no tw just a lovey dovey fic 💘.

To say lauren was obsessed with you was an understatement because if she could worship you from dusk till dawn. She would, without hesitation people always seem to be surprised that someone like her could end up with a woman like you.

You find it stereotypical stupid just because you're both two women in a relationship it shouldn't matter what your pillars are cause of the world difference.

But in all honesty, you couldn't careless especially when you're with the woman who fulfills every single one of your desires and loves you down to earth.

One thing you loved about Lauren was her hair and how she embraced it. Even though it was rare, she would let anyone touch it unless she was getting it done that was all.

So today, when she had asked you to braid her hair before the match against arsenal, you couldn't pass on the moment.

You were scrolling on your phone while you waited for your girlfriend to come join you downstairs so you could start. Unknowingly to you didn't hear Lauren heading downstairs as you felt two pairs of hands grabbing you by your waist.

"Hello to you too james". You told her

"Hey, my love." She said has her arms where still wrapped around your waist.

"So what hairstyle are you thinking of doing?". You asked her.

I was thinking about doing sum cornrows my love".she said while laying her head on your lap.

"Umm good choice".you told her before getting started on her hair.

In between doing Lauren hair you had to stop her from trying to touch you if not you wouldn't be able to finish doing it but knowing lauren you knew she wouldn't give up without a fight.

So that's how you ended on the floor on top of her instead of finishing the rest.

"Lauren, let go of me we can do this later I got have to finish braiding your hair". You tried telling her which was no use cause the grip she had on your waist was strong.

"How about you give me a kiss then we can continue."

"But I already did". You said while rolling your eyes at her.

"Lips and cheeks are not the same thing babe".all of a sudden, you felt a light smack on your thighs.

"Lauren." You yelled out her name after

"I love listening to the sound of my name coming out your mouth."she told as her thumb brushed your lips.

After your Makeout session with Lauren, you we're finally able to finish doing the rest of her hair without any disturbances.

"Baby I'm done doing your hair." You called out only to realize she had fallen asleep on your lap, not being able to do anything about it you grabbed the blanket that was already on the couch and layed it around the both of you.

[lacyscabinet]

ellie williams with blind reader

I JUST CANT FIND THIS ANYWHERE AND I THINK ELLIE WOULD BE A SOFTIE WITH THE READER😭😭

A/N: HELLO POOKIE!!! I love love love this request so much and I had so much fun writing it, thank you so much and I wish you a wonderful day!🤍🤍🤍 It was supposed to come out WEEKS ago but I got sick because I have the immune system of a Victorian child and I forgot to post this, I beg on my knees for forgiveness 😔✋🏼

give me feedback, gays 💜

NAVIGATION

okay so where should I start...

First of all can we say that being blind ESPECIALLY in an apocalyptic world is not EXACTLY ideal...

While Ellie may not fully grasp how you experience the world without sight, she knows what it's like to feel isolated and alienated

She’d make it her mission to keep you emotionally safe, always checking in with you, and gently coaxing you to talk when you’re feeling down or scared

BUT I'd like to think that Ellie wouldn't treat you like a little child just because of your condition, she knows you just need some extra help for some tasks

Ellie would totally read books out loud for you, because I don't think braille would be a thing in the apocalypse

She doesn't even mind doing it and she actually loves being able to help you with that

she might sit with you at the end of the day and read aloud from any scraps of books she can find out on patrol. If she doesn't have a book handy, she might make up stories on the spot, trying to paint vivid images in your mind

Sometimes if she doesn't have any ideas she'd just tell you about her adventures on patrol

...and it would be hilarious sometimes-

"Alright, so I was getting chased by this huge group of clickers, right? And they’re all like… trying to get me, but I’m just this...stealthy ninja, dodging left and right— Anyway, I had this crazy plan, and I kinda... tripped but, hey, that’s the story of how I almost died!"

I also believe she would be SO worried whenever she leaves for patrol because she knows you'd have to stay alone for a while.

Ellie would likely become hyper-aware of your other senses. Since you can’t see, she would focus on sounds, smells, and even tactile sensations to keep you informed of your surroundings

she might tap your shoulder lightly to guide you if you're about to bump into something

She would hold your hand to guide you when walking through a dangerous area or wrap her arm around your waist to steer you through crowded spaces in Jackson

Even though you’re blind, Ellie might still try to teach you about things that can be learned through other senses.

She could explain how to recognize different plants or what types of birds are nearby by their calls

Maybe she’ll even take it upon herself to teach you how to identify objects or places by their texture or sound, making you feel more connected to the world around you.

"This one’s a little tricky, but feel the texture of this rock—it's rough, right? Man, I love rocks..."

Ellie might get frustrated at times, but never at you, more at herself: she feels like she can’t do enough to make your life easier.

She might worry about how you experience the world, wanting to fix everything but realizing that some things are beyond her control

This would lead to moments where she becomes fiercely determined to find a way to help, trying to make things better in any way she can

"I just wish I could give you more, you know? I wish I could make you see the things I can see, just so you don’t feel like you’re missing out on things."

Overall she would be such a pookie because she's Ellie and she's a cutie patotie (and she also reduced the population of Seattle by 50%)

[slvtforfiction]

Stalker!Ghost (part 2)

☆ Stalker!Ghost X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ TW stalking obvs

☆ New account layout,will try change old layout as much as possible,requests are open

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Divider creds @cafekitsune :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post | Part 1

☆ After a while Ghost seemed to be a bigger part of your life than you realised,a bigger comfort than knowingly willing.

☆ You seemed to find yourself excited to see when he would reply to your notes next,hiding off in your bedroom sometimes intentionally so that he would come into your house and reply.

☆ You had come to the conclusion that if he wanted to hurt you he would’ve by now. He had told you descriptions of how you looked at work,how the guy that yelled at you was ‘dealt with’ he knew everything about your life and seemed to protect you yet you had no idea why so whilst writing your next note you included the question.

☆ Hey Ghost, how come you chose me? Like why are you helping me? I would say you barely know me but you seem to know me more than I know myself haha.

Love,Y/n.

☆ You quickly scribbled out the ending,reminding yourself for a moment that this man was stalking you quite literally.

☆ The idea scared you but you supposed he was closer to a guardian angel rather than anything.

☆ After a few hours of listening to music in your room you slipped downstairs to grab yourself a drink,almost forgetting about the note you left until you saw it replaced with a familiar sticky note.

☆ Because you’re a beautiful woman,truly. I see what you do for other people even when others don’t. A beautiful person. I saw you scribble out the ending,don’t be afraid of me dove.

Love,Ghost.

☆ You stared at the note for a moment before writing out yet another note.

☆ Thank you haha,when can I know what you look like though? Can I not even get your phone number or something so you don’t have to break into my house every time I wanna talk to you?

☆ You wrote out the note before grabbing your original drink and heading back upstairs,hoping for a reply soon.

☆ In some sick way you had grown unscathed by the man that entered your house while you weren’t home,the man who entered your house while you actually were home,sitting upstairs oblivious to the rest of the home.

☆ In your mind you continued to remind yourself that he’s your stalker and he’s dangerous but there’s a part of you that just doesn’t believe that voice in your head telling you to run.

☆ You fall asleep soon after writing that note though awake a few hours later to see a pile of your underwear,carefully folded and cleaned and you smile realising that Ghost has been in yet come to the horrific discovery that that man had seen you sleeping.

☆ If he was going to hurt you he would’ve done it by now. You remind yourself before walking downstairs to read his note again.

☆ You ain’t gonna see what I look like any time soon lovie,hope you enjoy your washing.

You can message me on this number.

1567-####-####

Love,Ghost.

☆ You smiled now that you had finally gotten even a little bit of information about him and you quickly ran upstairs as you grabbed your phone typing in the number and sending it a message.

☆ Ghost?

☆ You smile as the phone quickly lights up after your message was sent.

☆ Hey lovie.

Hey guys if you like this post you should follow my Wattpad to get a notification when I post my ghost fic! It’s Christmas themed,slow burn and I know you’ll all definitely love it - Char 💞

Wattpad

out nov 25th 00:00 gmt*

[flowersdiceandlove]

Please tell me about your Eminence in Shadow!SY AU, that sounds really interesting and badass

Okay, so, in case you don’t know “Eminence in Shadow” is a reincarnation, isekai anime where a guy named Cid Kageno ends up in a world with magic. He likes playing as “Background Character A” by day and being “The Eminence in Shadow” by night. I was watching this anime and while I was watching, I felt like Cid and Shen Yuan were a lot alike. (I’ve only watched the anime which only has two seasons, so anything beyond that in the manga I have no idea about)

Now, onto the idea (I og had this written out as a prompt and then thought, huh, this might actually be fun to write, so just…didn’t post the prompt. I think I’ll come back later and post an actual prompt for this though. But, I'm literally just copy/pasting what I already wrote for this.)

Imagine, Shen Yuan transmigrates into Background Character A in PIDW, and, just like Cid, throws himself into the role. He just wants to get through the plot without drawing attention to himself so he can avoid Bingge's ire. But! But! This is Shen Yuan who has always dreamed of transmigrating into this type of story. How can he just pass up the chance of becoming a cool cultivator??? He can't, that's how! So then, how does one remain Background Character A while also being a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator? By acting out his role as Background Character A during the day and growing his power to become a cool cultivator in secret! That's how!

He'll spend his days idling and playing his role as Just Some Guy to perfection, but in secret, he'll hone his cultivator abilities, slay monsters, study demonic beasts, and live out his cultivator fantasy! He transmigrates early, maybe as a baby, and uses all his knowledge of reading PIDW and other cultivation stories to work out how to cultivate in secret. He won't interfere with the plot, making sure he blends into the background so as not to draw attention to himself, and will be able to survive the merging of the realms with his cultivation abilities when that time eventually comes.

But, of course, this is Shen Yuan we're talking about. He stumbles his way into trouble and wifebeams people. He plays up his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act like Shadow/Cid does and ends up amassing his own Shadow Garden (harem of highly trained women dedicated to Shadow and his cause, for those of you who haven't seen Eminence in Shadow) but the gay xianxia version. We're gonna get Zhuzhi-Lang, Liu Qingge, ect. But, just like Shadow/Cid, Shen Yuan does not realize he has amassed this massive harem who would literally do anything for him and have created an entire clandestine organization (that's really more of an empire) with him as the head. He thinks they're all just Really Good Friends who are helping him live out his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator dreams.

Just like Shadow/Cid bullshits the Cult of Diablo, Shen Yuan is gonna bullshit his own stuff. And, just like with Shadow/Cid's stuff, Shen Yuan's words are gonna turn out to be true. I'm thinking he ends up uncovering all the corruption and drama surrounding the Old Palace Master and Huan Hua Palace. It'll probably end up being a whole big thing and once they start digging, they just find more and more sects, companies, people, etc. involved in this. Part of the corruption and wrong-doings they find, is a lot of provoking of demons. Shen Yuan, of course, knows none of this, and always ends up on the outskirts of the investigations bullshitting some Wise Nonsense that has everyone in awe before kicking the Bad Guy's butt, not knowing what's Really Going On.

He remains oblivious to all the Drama going on and what he's leaving in his wake. One thing he is absolutely certain he must do is Keep A Low Profile and remain Background Character A, so all his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator adventures are done in secret and he makes sure that his version of Shadow Garden knows that This Is SECRET!! Do Not Tell. shhhh.

Just like in Eminence in Shadow, Shen Yuan's harem (that he still doesn't know is his harem) venture out on their own to gather more people to add to the harem join their cause.

Shen Yuan had to have met Liu Qingge before he entered CQMS. Maybe Shen Yuan's Background Family is from the same village/city the Liu Family is from and so they grew up in the same social circle. When Liu Qingge eventually goes to join CQMS Shen Yuan sighs and thinks What a good guy, playing with me all this time. Now he's off to be a Great Cultivator himself. I hope we can still see each other again sometime. Not at all knowing that Liu Qingge has the BIGGEST crush on him and once in CQMS is trying to recruit more people to join Shen Yuan's harem organization. He probably convinces at least half of the future Qing generation in time as well as many disciples from various peaks. It helps when on a couple night-hunts Shen Yuan, in Mysterious And Cool Cultivator mode, showed up out of nowhere and solved the problem like a Wise Immortal and effectively wifebeaming all present.

For Zhuzhi-Lang, Shen Yuan definitely found him hurt and cooed over him, nursing him back to health. Eventually Zhuzhi-Lang had to return to the Demon Realm and Tianlang-jun, but tells Tianlang-jun about the Nice Human Cultivator who took care of him. Tianlang-jun clocks Zhuzhi-Lang's crush immediately, and tells him that he can go woo his human all he wants as long as it doesn't interfere with work, and also, he would like to meet this human.

Shen Yuan nearly has a heart attack when the DEMON EMPEROR (and Luo Binghe's father!! Ahhh!) shows up at his house to invite him to a picnic (thankfully no one else saw this so his cover as Background Character A is still in check). He doesn't turn him down though, that would be stupid, Tianlang-jun could kill him in a heartbeat if he offended him. So, he goes on the picnic. Tianlang-jun thanks him for taking such good care of his nephew, and Zhuzhi-Lang is a blushing mess the entire time. Tianlang-jun as being Tianlang-jun keeps trying to set Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-lang up. Shen Yuan laughs it off. Clearly Tianlang-jun is quite the jokester and eternally flamboyant (and you know how Tianlang-jun is), and thinks all his suggestive comments are just his weird sense of humor. Tianglang-jun is most definitely trying to get both Zhuzhi-Lang and himself into Shen Yuan's pants. Shen Yuan is, of course, oblivious to this.

After the picnic Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang leave but have secured invitation from Shen Yuan to return as they please so long as they keep it hush hush. Zhuzhi-Lang will actually visit a lot and spend a lot of time in tiny snake form curled up around Shen Yuan's arm under his sleeve or in his robes. Shen Yuan idly pets and strokes him, feeling the cool texture of his scales without thinking about it. When he does realize, Zhuzhi-Lang tells him that it's fine and he can keep petting him as much as he wants. Sometimes people will see Shen Yuan, Background Character A, with a green snake on his arm, or in his robes, or draped across his shoulders, but never really think too much about it, thinking he just has a normal pet snake.

Since this initial meeting, there are a lot more snakes around the Shen Estate, and Shen Yuan's parents tell him to get it under control, thinking that his pet snake is attracting them. Shen Yuan apologizes and says he will. Zhuzhi-Lang then tells his snake underlings to hide better. They were there to make sure Shen Yuan was safe, not get him in trouble.

When Zhuzhi-Lang is back in the Demon Realm he talks about Shen Yuan. He also knows about the Mysterious And Cool Cultivator thing and is also trying to recruit demons to his harem cause. Tianlang-jun knows about this and is fine with it. He's long decided that he's gonna get Shen Yuan into his bed family service and so him having his own underlings and support of demons would only make it easier to do so down the road.

Despite Shen Yuan's meddling, the Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan thing still happens and the Old Palace Master stuff leading to Tianlang-jun being sealed. Even with Shen Yuan and his harem friends taking down branches of corruption, they weren't able to take down the Old Palace Master (not yet at least). So, that whole Fiasco happens. Shen Yuan feels guilty about it. Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang had become his friends and he knew what was coming. He was confused though because Tianlang-jun did not seem like he was trying to take over the Human Realm and that was why he was sealed. Maybe the System finally decided to pop in and say he couldn't interfere in it, and that some things just had to happen for plot reasons (like with the Endless Abyss). Or, Maybe Shen Yuan didn't see it coming, thinking that he had somehow influenced Tianlang-jun to not want to invade the Human Realm, not knowing that it had always been a lie and set up, the truth never being revealed in PIDW.

Zhuzhi-Lang flees to Shen Yuan, hurt from the attack, and, of course, Shen Yuan accepts him even in his half snake, half humanoid form. It took him a moment, but then he recognized it was Zhuzhi-Lang by his eyes and tended his wounds (again). Zhuzhi-Lang tells him the story of what he and Tianlang-jun believe to be true. By the time he's well enough to do that though, Shen Yuan isn't able to do anything about Su Xiyan's situation. She's already long vanished. Shen Yuan also decides that once Bailu Forest isn't under such careful observation after Tianlang-Jun's sealing, he'll go see the man with Zhuzhi-Lang to see what his state is. Despite it all and Tianlang-jun's...unique personality, Shen Yuan still considers him a friend and wants to help where he can.

It, unfortunately, takes a while for things to cool down around Bailu Mountain and then again to find a way to Tianlang-jun's prison without setting off any alarms. By the time Shen Yuan finally sees Tianlang-jun again, years have passed. He's alive, but not in a great state what with being crushed under a mountain and all. Shen Yuan is in awe of the resilience of Heavenly Demons. When Tianlang-jun sees Shen Yuan he's like "ah, if it's the only human who hasn't betrayed me. What brings you to this place?" all casually. Shen Yuan actually brought him some trashy books and food that he knew Tianlang-jun would like and Tianlang-jun is overjoyed by it. You wouldn't even think he was being squished under a mountain with how happy he was.

Shen Yuan works with Zhuzhi-Lang to figure out how to get Tianlang-jun out, but only after he makes Tianlang-jun promise not to slaughter everyone (probably saying some Wise Nonsense, but is really just trying to get Tianlang-jun to not obliterate humanity). Tianlang-jun pouts, but does. Shen Yuan appeases him by getting him more trashy books and human paraphernalia. During this time, Shen Yuan mentions (intentionally) that he heard rumors that Su Xiyan may be pregnant—Shen Yuan doesn’t think Tianlang-jun’s as interested as he should be in this development; this is Luo Binghe after all—and also that he thinks there’s more to this than they originally thought. Tianlang-jun’s attention is then fully shifted from killing all humans except Shen Yuan, to figuring out what’s going on because hm, you’re right, A-Yuan, this doesn’t make much sense.

With Shen Yuan also working on how to get Tianlang-jun out, Zhuzhi-Lang is able to go back to the Demon Realm to keep things in order. At least to an extent. They keep the fact that they’re trying to free Tianlang-jun a secret bc you never know where there are eyes and ears. Shen Yuan helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep his more humanoid appearance since Tianlang-jun isn’t able to, so that helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep the demons under control, but doesn’t help a whole lot. Things still kinda fall apart there. Shen Yuan’s harem organization is still holding up there and work in secret despite the shakiness in the Demon Realm and the demons in it even use the political uncertainty to their advantage to gain more power.

Maybe Shen Yuan figures out how to make the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom compatible with demonic qi or maybe he finds another solution. But, either way, he gets Tianlang-jun’s soul out from under the mountain. There is just one caveat of this new body. It must grow from infanthood again at a normal rate. They grow the body, and then Tianlang-jun’s soul pops over to it when it’s a baby, freeing him from his prison. Since the Demon Realm has grown unstable and Tianlang-jun is in a vulnerable state, they decide that the best and safest course of action is for Shen Yuan to keep Tianlang-jun in his care. So, Shen Yuan returns home with baby Tianlang-jun claiming the baby’s his. What better place to hide than in Background Family A, after all? Shen Yuan’s been doing it for decades at this point and thinks it’s the perfect way of living. Thankfully, Tianlang-jun, despite being a baby, does still know how to control his demonic qi, and is able to hide it, making himself appear like a normal human baby.

When the rest of Shen Yuan’s harem Friends find out about “his baby” they’re all seething in jealousy wondering who the mother is. (gender neutral use of the term “mother” here. That harem is definitely trying to figure out how to have Shen Yuan’s baby or get Shen Yuan to have their baby) They also start seething in jealousy over the baby itself bc Shen Yuan is doting on him to the max. He’s holding and rocking him, soothing him, patting him, feeding him, cooing over him, ect. Shen Yuan just can’t get over how cute baby Tianlang-jun is, and is wondering what baby Bingge looked like. (By this point, Binghe’s already entered CQMS)

Every time Liu Qingge leaves the sect to go on a night-hunt, he always stops by the Shen Estate to see Shen Yuan and drop off some monster head/part for him. Shen Yuan always greets him with a smile and thanks him, but asks if dropping the bloody carcass in the entry hall was really necessary. Who’s gonna clean this all up, Liu-didi, hm? Be nicer to the servants! Don’t make unnecessary work for them! The first time Liu Qingge sees the baby, he’s doing this. Shen Yuan comes out to meet him with the baby in his arms, and the sight of Shen Yuan holding a baby, smiling at him, and welcoming him back makes his brain blank for a long moment.

Shen Yuan either is super vague about the baby!Tianlang-jun’s mom or has a super detailed background story ready to go. It’s a bit of a minor scandal in the way that all bastards are, but Background Family Father A is happy to get a grandson from Shen Yuan.

As baby!Tianlang-jun grows up, he gets super smug about having Shen Yuan as his dad and attention. He’s good at playing his role as a little kid around others, but then in private just acts like his usual self, lounging around like the emperor he is, reading scandalous smut, and saying all his suggestive and lucious things. When the members of Shen Yuan’s harem Shen Yuan’s friends show up, he always plays up the act and gets Shen Yuan to let him sit in his lap, pet his hair, snuggle against his side, or something. Shen Yuan’s harem friends swear that the kid knows what he’s doing, but can only chug vinegar in silence bc it’s Shen Yuan’s son. Tianlang-jun is loving having Shen Yuan as his dad, being the only one to call him “daddy” or “baba” or “a-die” or such and has Shen Yuan curled around his finger with his cuteness. (He’s long stopped trying to get into Shen Yuan’s pants and is much happier being his adoptive son. He is still trying to set up Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-Lang though.)

Because of Shen Yuan’s interference, Liu Qingge either doesn’t have that deadly qi deviation, or is stable enough that when Shen Qingqiu tries to help him with it, is actually able to help. So, Liu Qingge lives.

When Luo Bingge is finally out of the Endless Abyss and is working his way through conquering the Demon Realm, he starts to slowly find out about this vast and secret organization that’s in control of so much. Digging deeper, he’s able to uncover that it spans into the Human Realm and includes some well respected and high class cultivators too. Luo Bingge tries to wriggle out who the leader is, but everyone is so tightlipped and elusive that he’s actually having trouble finding info out. It drives him mad. Xin Mo is also capitalizing on this obsession. Luo Bingge can’t be the indisputable Emperor of all if there’s some shadow organization pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shen Yuan, however, is blissfully unaware that he’s caught the attention of Luo Bingge, still thinking he’s successfully flown under the radar, and tells his harem Friends to avoid getting on Luo Binghe’s bad side and to help him however they can, hoping that this will get those that would have died as canon fodder in Bingge’s rise to greatness to be able to survive it. This just drives Luo Bingge even more up the wall bc he doesn’t know why this secret organization is deciding to back him in everything and so he doesn’t know their motives and so he can’t use those motives to his advantage and so he doesn’t have absolute control! 

When he does finally get a member of the harem organization to talk to him, they just say “Our master is wise. He sees potential in you. Do not squander our master’s good will.” because when they asked why Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan said something like “I believe he’s destined for greatness. I want to see the world he creates.” or “He has great promise. I want to see what he does.” all sage like while internally panicking, hoping that that was vague enough so they don’t continue to ask why he wants to help this random demon that he’s never met. This answer does not help to assuage Bingge’s unease at this secret organization and their secret leader, and only makes it worse bc how does this man know Luo Binghe well enough to know his POTENTIAL!?!?! But he can’t ask the person more bc they vanished from their cell after Luo Bingge was called away on urgent business. And, they also somehow have a way to counteract his blood parasites. Bingge is seriously losing it over this. (He doesn’t know about Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun, and I’m sure they both know a lot more about Heavenly Demon abilities and how to counteract them than Bingge does)

Shen Yuan and his harem friends end up leading Bingge through the Demon and Human Realms with mind games and wild goose chases, every adventure leading to Bingge gaining more power. Shen Yuan eventually learns that he’s caught Bingge’s eye and hopes that this all will show that Shen Yuan is a friend and not a foe. See! He’s helping you gain power, Bingge!! We’re not enemies!!

Luo Bingge is not put at ease by this and every encounter with the harem organization is just leaving him more frazzled. Eventually Shen Yuan and Luo Bingge meet on one of these crazy adventures when Shen Yuan had to get involved, Shen Yuan in his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act, and disguised so that even a Heavenly Demon and the protagonist won’t be able to recognize him. (Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun helped him test his disguise out) Shen Yuan spouts more of his Wise Nonsense at Luo Binghe to make Luo Binghe see that they’re on Bingge’s side before vanishing without a trace. After every time, Luo Bingge screams and levels some stuff in frustration. He still doesn’t know what these people are after! How are they so elusive!? 

Because of all this, Luo Binghe’s plans to infiltrate Huan Hua Palace and destroy Cang Qiong Mountain Sect are put on hold. He doesn’t know exactly how far this secret organization's power reaches, but he can’t go in blind with such a big power behind the scenes. He does know that the secret organization has reaches in CQMS, but doesn’t know how deep (Liu Qingge’s been hard at work there and all of Bai Zhan is under Shen Yuan’s command along with over half of the other peaks. Shang Qinghua is freaking out because he didn’t write this!!! Who the fuck is that guy!?!? Why is he rivaling Bingge!?!?! And, WHY IS HE WINNING!?!?!? Bingge’s supposed to reign supreme, not some rando he never even wrote! He’s wondering if he maybe wrote out this idea while high as fuck and delusional with sleep depravation which is why he doesn’t remember it, but he knows he wouldn’t do that even at his most addled bc Bingge is supposed to be unrivaled. That’s why he scrapped the Tianlang-jun vs Bingge idea.) 

Bingge gets so caught up in paranoia over this secret organization and not knowing whose a part of it and who's not and what they really want that he’s not negating Xin Mo with dual cultivation bc are the women part of the organization? Are they in on it? What do they want? What do they gain by sleeping with me? So his control is slipping.

It’s also during this time that the harem organization start getting closer to Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master. Their progress is helped when Shen Yuan, during a friendly get together with one of the high ranking members of his harem organization his Friends, he accidentally slips that he’s wondering the validity of the Old Palace Master’s claims of Tianlang-jun wanting to invade the Human Realm and the story of what’s really going on there. The harem organization takes his words as Shen Yuan telling them to look into this matter, so they set their sights fully on Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master.

Not long later, they uncover the Truth, and clear Tianlang-jun’s name, dragging the Old Palace Master’s through the mud. Tianlang-jun, hearing about this, swoops in and kills a whole bunch of Huan Hua Palace high ranking members and the Old Palace Master along with a bunch of other powerful people involved in the cover up and mess. The organization, at seeing the gruesome slaughter, are at first horrified bc who has this kind of power to slip past the organization's defenses and do this? But, then someone spots Tianlang-jun slipping away, recognizes him as Shen Yuan’s son, and concludes that Shen Yuan was the one to do this. Later, at another friendly get together with Shen Yuan, one of them vaguely mentions the slaughter, subtly asking if Shen Yuan knew of it and even more subtly inquiring if he was the one to do it. Shen Yuan, knowing that Tianlang-jun was the one to do it and just got finished burning the bloody robes Tianlang-jun had come back in after reprimanding him to be more careful what if someone saw you???, doesn’t pick up on this at all and is instead trying to divert attention away from them, says something vague back which only confirms in the organizations mind that Shen Yuan was the one who did it. With their firm belief that Shen Yuan knows what’s best, even if they initially thought the execution was horrific, they believe that they had deserved it if Shen Yuan would resort to such tactics.

The organization sweeps in and helps clean the mess up, CQMS and other sects and businesses affiliated with Shen Yuan and the organization distribute Huan Hua Palace’s wealth and territory, gaining more influence. Luo Binghe hears about all this, and poking around some more, finds that the organization was behind this. The fact that this clandestine organization was able to take down such a well established and reputable sect like Huan Hua Palace only sets him more on edge about them. If they can do that, they could also dethrone him too, couldn’t they?? Just because they haven't outright opposed him yet doesn’t mean they won’t. He cannot trust such a powerful organization.

Eventually, Bingge tracks down Shen Yuan and, in a great show like in Hua Yue City, Shen Yuan has to pull the “self-destruct for you” card to stop Bingge’s qi deviation while saying more Wise And Meaningful Nonsense that has Bingge realizing that this guy was really on his side. This entire time, this guy has had unwavering faith in him and his abilities. This entire time, he’s had his whole organization working to help him in any way possible simply because of that. That this entire time, his only motive was to see what Bingge would become, see the world he creates, and for him to be happy. And now he can’t even do that. Because he’s dead. For Luo Binghe’s sake!!

And, Binghe…

Binghe just can’t take it. He hasn’t had someone so staunchly on his side since his mother died when he was little. He starts bawling. He can’t help it. He hasn’t cried in so long, and he just can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming, a heartbreaking wail from his mouth, while he hugs the dead body to his chest.

Other members of Shen Yuan’s harem organization that watched the whole thing stay standing around this scene, some tears falling from their eyes too, not able to believe that Shen Yuan is really dead. Liu Qingge, and others, are getting ready to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Yuan’s body, but before more fighting can break out, Tianlang-jun struts in with Zhuzhi-Lang following meekly behind him. The harem organization members that don’t know about the truth are shocked and scared bc they were supposed to get Shen Yuan’s son away from this chaos and protect him from Luo Binghe. But, Tianlang-jun (whose like a teenager or something by this point) just ignores everyone’s shouts and deftly evades their protective grabs for him, waking straight up to the still bawling Binghe.

See, Tianlang-jun is not nearly as oblivious as Shen Yuan is—he’s the exact opposite really—so he clocked Luo Binghe starting to fall for Shen Yuan a while ago, captivated by the challenge and mind games that Shen Yuan was playing with him, and is staunchly knowing that Luo Binghe won’t attack them again.

“Luo Binghe, do not fear,” he starts seriously, then breaks out in a massive grin and gives him a thumbs up, “we have contingency plans in case of death! Many of them!” Because of course they do. They’ve long secured the Sun And Moon Dew Mushroom Seeds and started growing them to Shen Yuan’s body. Tianlang-jun also still has access to the Holy Mausoleum and the Resurrection Chamber. And, with both Shen Yuan’s PIDW knowledge and Tianlang-jun’s and with his resources, they have a vast variety of back up bodies and plans for many different circumstances. It is also revealed that this is Tianlang-jun and literally no one is surprised by this development. Of course Shen Yuan’s son is the last Demon Emperor who’s supposed to be sealed under a mountain. It also made some of them “understand” why Shen Yuan had been so ruthless in his execution of the Old Palace Master and others since they now knew he had a personal interest in the matter.

When Shen Yuan wakes up, he’s immediately tackled by a sobbing Luo Binghe who places a big, fat, wet kiss on his mouth. He tries to reel back, but Luo Binghe has him in a death grip, so he can only stare wide-eyed at Luo Binghe until he pulls back to keep sobbing against his chest. Those of the harem organization that were there were furious at this bc barely any of them have kissed Shen Yuan and they’ve been in his harem service longer!! And, instead of shoving Luo Binghe away, Shen Yuan hugs him closer and pats his head, trying to calm him down, whispering that “No, Binghe, I won’t go anywhere. Yes, I can stay with you. Please don’t apologize, Binghe, this isn’t your fault. I should have done better to make you see I was on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong.” and so on.

After this, Shen Yuan is no longer able to maintain his cover as Background Character A, but that’s okay because he only kept it so he wouldn’t get taken out as Bingge’s rival or something. Since Binghe is on his side, he can live his whole life as a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator, living out his transmigration dreams unhindered! But, Binghe, what do you mean you’re making me Empress of the Demon Realm? I’m a man! I can’t be your Empress! Pick a pretty girl for that if you want one! Tianlang-jun, why are you laughing!? Why are you supporting this!?

Binghe convinces Shen Yuan to marry him by presenting it as a political marriage since Shen Yuan is in control of so much, and if he wants Luo Binghe to be the Emperor of it all (which he knows Shen Yuan wants) then they really need to be married and Shen Yuan made Empress for his reign to be undisputed. Shen Yuan eventually figures it out, and by that point he’s also figuring out that he actually has feelings for a lot of his “friends.” Well, it’s a good thing they all want to marry him too.

There are a long line of weddings after this as so many of Shen Yuan’s friends harem demand to be formally married. Binghe fights for position of First Husband. And wins. Because of course he does.

Luo Binghe has pretty much lost interest in his own harem (which was still pretty small and shrinking when he decided to kick women out for fear they were part of the organization), and becomes nonexistent after his marriage to Shen Yuan. It’s not a problem though, because Tianlang-jun, Shen Yuan, and Shang Qinghua pull resources and knowledge to nullify Xin Mo’s effect on him, so his harem is obsolete anyway.

—Later, once things are settled, probably:

SQH: bro, wtf? You haremed my harem novel.

SY: 🤷

I just feel like Shen Yuan and Cid are so similar. They both curate their role in their new transmigration life, bullshit through so much by spouting wise nonsense, and making people fall for them left and right while being totally oblivious. Shen Yuan just gives Cid levels of oblivious vibes.

I’m not super feeling my svsss fics right now, so I don’t think I’m gonna write on them and just close the tabs for now. Idk. I’ll prbly come back to this later at some point, but 🤷‍♀️ Hoped you enjoyed this 😊

If anyone has any ideas for what to call sy's version of Shadow Garden, let me know. I was feeling stuck on that part, but like I said, I don't know when I'll come back to this.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, could I make an order for Hiccup Haddock x male reader? In which at the beginning they are at the end of the first movie and, like what happened to Hiccup's mother, a dragon kidnaps the male reader because he liked it (this dragon can be a woolly howl? 🥺 Almost no one knows this dragon). And at the beginning of the third movie, when they are rescuing the dragons from the ship, the reader He appears with a somewhat unkempt appearance, and it turns out that all these years he was trying to locate Berk so he could return but on his journey he came across the hunters' ship. I would like a meeting full of action and romance with tears of happiness for finally meeting each other, please.

Going home

Summary: Being kidnapped by a dragon has its perks, but you really miss home. And Berk, too, you guess. Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x male reader Wc: 3k A/n: idk couldn’t stop thinking about this, rushed it out as soon as I could and I have zero idea how to write fight scenes

It was true that Hiccup had a soft spot for dragons— no one around Berk could deny that fact—  that Toothless had opened up like a gaping chest wound he didn’t know was there at first. Unable to kill the mighty beast that night, seeing himself in the young dragon. Instead becoming the first (technically second) dragon rider from Beek; turning violent hunters into loving but still violent dragon riders. 

Hiccup loved all the dragons, he learned the ins and outs of every single breed he came across. He obviously had a favorite, Night Fury’s but he wouldn’t say he hated any dragons. At least, depending on who was asking him. 

Astrid, Stoick, and Gobber would all hear the endless rambles about one particular dragon; unable to roll their eyes or stop his ramblings because they know the reason for his near hatred of them. 

The Woolly Howl dragon was one he couldn’t bring himself to care about. Not even if you paid him all the money in the world could he be anything more than indifference and he doesn’t think he even has that for them. Not after the dragon nest incident. 

Hiccups remembers the first time he’d taken you flying. Before Astrid, before everything. You’d been braver than he was, had a better grip on Toothless too. He liked that about you, you’d always been the one with a level head, doing what was necessary. It’s probably why his father pushed for the two of you to become friends, hoping you’d rub off on Hiccup. Toughen you up.

Stoick couldn’t imagine what would happen between the two of you, though. 

He wouldn’t say it was love, not yet at least. You’re both only fifteen, although Stoick supposed he was in love with Valka at a younger age. But he can definitely tell it’s coming soon; the way you two operate is like two halves of a missing puzzle. He reckons if his wife was there to see it, she’d say you were soulmates in living color. 

You’d gotten the others ready to follow Stoick and the other Vikings and used Astrid to knock some sense into him. You would’ve done it yourself but you knew none of the others could get the dragons somewhat ready. And time was running out, you needed to be as fast as possible. Although Hiccup did most of the work convincing them to actually get on them— he always was the crowd worker of the two of you. 

Touch as you were, though, you had a terrible sense of direction, so you rode with Snotlout towards the dragon nest. You were going to ride with Hiccup but Astrid was firm that wasn’t going to ride with Snotlout and couldn't fly just yet. 

It was good. At first. The plan was working, you were distracting the leader dragon and then one thing led to another before things went terribly wrong.

You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but you remember falling. It was hot, fire was everywhere. You lost the others in the chaos, you couldn’t see more than a couple of inches in front of yourself. Smoke started quickly filling your lungs and you were ready to give up on trying to escape the flames when it was put out. Suddenly everything was cold, colder than the worst snows on Berk. 

Ice and snow pushed against your face and you hurriedly used your shield yourself while trying to remain standing. When it stopped, you slowly lowered your hands and looked around. 

You thought you saw dark brown fur, but when you reached out you felt the hard scales and a deep timber rumble. Purple eyes stared back at you before it roared and you were shot into the sky. As you were being taken up, you saw Hiccup enter the air with Toothless, the monster of a dragon hot on their tail and tried to scream for him. Scream for either of them to notice you— anything. But your voice was shot, the smoke had done a number on your lungs and throat. 

It was useless to try any longer and you watched as the island got smaller, dread filling your stomach.

The Woolly Howl had flown in the clouds, flying away from the fight you could see in the distance. Purple blasts from Toothless grew less and less as you gave up fighting. Even if you got out of the dragon’s harsh grip, you don’t know where you’d land or how you’d even make it back. 

You never did get to see if they won the fight.

When Hiccup woke up in his room with Toothless at his side and half of one of his legs; he was just happy the plan had worked. He was happy that he saw Berk buzzing with dragons, he couldn’t look anywhere and not see them. Everyone had greeted him like a hero for the first time in… well, ever. Surely he had died and this was his paradise but when you didn’t run up to him, he was sure this wasn’t paradise. 

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He slowly asked Stoick and the laughter and cheers died down around him. Stoick removed his helmet and Hiccup faltered, almost falling on the firing had it not been for Astrid. He looks between the crowd that’s slowly dispersing, his chest heaving up and down as his mind swims with the worst possible ideas. 

“No one could find him,” She said when Stoick couldn’t find the words. “Toothless and the others tried to track his scent but…” She looks off. 

“No,” He shakes his head, looking around. This wasn’t true. “He- he was with Snotlout! How did he lose him?”

“They got separated. One of my men saw a Woolly Howl flying around; they think it's what took him.” Stoick places a hand on his son's shoulder, offering comfort before Hiccup throws himself into his fathers, pulling him impossibly close as he cries. Stoick sucks in a breath before he kneels down, embracing his sobbing, grieving son just as he did when he lost Valka. 

“I’m sorry, Hiccup. I’m so sorry.”

—

You scramble to your feet as the Woolly Howl drops you on top of a snowy patch on a mountain. The snow stings your hands and you’re already shivering; your furs weren’t nearly as thick enough for these temperatures. The dragon tilts its head as you slowly back up, reaching behind you when your back slams into something. 

Glancing behind you, your eyes close when you find you’re backed into a corner. You know you’re too high up to leave, too cold to even think to fight. 

The dragon nudges your leg and you open your eyes, waiting for your death but it nudges you away from the corner and gestures to a cave. There’s a… you squint and smile. There’s a fire inside. Rushing into the cave, it follows after you and you see an older man next to the fire, spinning a long fish over the fire. 

“Good,” He coughs, patting the animal fur rug to make you sit. Settling next to him, you look at the entrance of the cave where the dragon is lying in front of, but not blocking. “BeeBoo needs a new friend.”

“BeeBoo?” You ask, looking back at him. 

“I'm old,” He continues, ignoring your question. “She needs a new friend.” The man takes the fish off and offers it to you. “You’ll get used to the cold. My furs are in the corner, if you’d like.”

“I need to go home,” Shaking your head, you look for the furs and then them lying in a neat corner. Rushing to put them on, you return to the fire. “Please, can you take me home?”

“BeeBoo can,” He nods. “I’ll be gone before nightfall.”

“You’re leaving? Is there a village nearby?”

“No village,” He shakes his head. “I am old. I will be gone soon.” You look him over, his skin hangs the way the elders on the island do, his hair is barely there, and he shivers like no other despite being bundled in several layers and next to the fire. He’s old, you realize, he will be gone soon.

“Oh,” Blinking, you peel back the scales of the fish and eat in a solemn sort of silence before the old man leaves the cave as the sun starts to go down. BeeBoo howls, giving the man one last head hug before he disappears into the blizzard. BeeBoo turns to you, a sad sort of cry echoing from her chest and you can’t help but feel bad for the dragon. 

—

Hiccup checks his notes again, running a finger past each line as he observes two Woolly Howls playing in the nearby snow with Toothless. 

strike dragon

fire type- hail

purple mouth and eyes

fur like scales

tail fins

segmented underbelly— blends into clouds

can withstand blizzards

medium-sized

lives in snowy mountains

Sighing, he wipes his face and turns to his map. This is the fourth snow mountain he’s been to this week. He’s lost count of how many he’s been to in the past five years. 

He calls Toothless back as he packs up his items; it’s nearly time for the steal mission with the others. As he’s packing the items, he runs his fingers over your old arm brace. He remembers when the two of you had carved your initials into it, he’s since outgrown his but he keeps it around. It hangs in this room right next to your other items that he had lying around. 

Hiccup hadn’t given up hope in finding you. He spent every waking moment he could trying. But, he found everyone but you. He found his mother; he’d hoped maybe you were there too. In some secret dragon sanctuary but no. She was the only human and she hadn’t seen you. He had a separate map for you; he’d tracked countless Woolly Howls and where they’d spend their time. A few times he thought he was close, he was sure of it, but nothing. Your clothes had lost their smell and even if they hadn’t, he doubts Toothless or any of the other dragons could track it through the blizzards. 

You hadn’t stopped either. You traveled whenever you could, only stopping when Beeboo needed to rest. But, your sense of direction was still as shit as it was when you still lived on Berk. It felt like you found everything but your home. Even found some weird dragon place that looked like a nice place to live. But they weren’t exactly taking newcomers and you didn’t want to stay. 

Even more unfortunate for you; you’d managed to get trapped by dragon hunters after falling asleep while Beeboo flew over a stretch of ocean. Apparently, she got curious about a boat and went to inspect it. Beeboo had protected you when they found and trapped her, hiding you in her wings so you wouldn’t get caught or hurt. 

Currently, you’re catching the last bit of your rest. You’d been up for nearly a whole day and, Odin, were you tired. But the smell of fire had woken you up and it made Beeboo stirr uneasy with the flames she was seeing. You began to crawl out from under her wings when you heard the gate lock slide open and then the gate slowly opened. 

BeeBoo growled, holding you close as you heard two footsteps get closer. It was from one person, but one of the steps sounded heavier than the other. The other half step had a sort of metal sound to it. Metal hitting metal rather than leather-bound feet. The person sighs; this sort of annoyed sigh you do when BeeBoo goes fishing without you and brings up eel. 

“Hey, easy girl.” Peering out from the wing, you see a man walking up to BeeBoo and slipping out, pointing your sword at the man’s neck. His back is illuminated by the lamps, face is hidden in the darkness of the cage.

“Another rider?” He asks and his voice is so familiar. His voice is one you hear when you sleep, one you’ve spent years trying to find again. With wide eyes you drop your sword and remove your helmet, it clunks as it hits the floor, rolling between you and Hiccup. Hiccup falters, eyes widening as he recognizes you within seconds. You’re messy, sure. Your hair is different, unkept and there are bits of ice inside of it, your lips are chapped and your clothes are wet from the melting ice. 

But it’s you. 

“(Y/n)?” He breathes and you rush into a hug, holding him close. He hugs you, lifting you from your feet and you laugh, doing the same when he sets you down. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” You sob, slipping your hands under his helmet which he quickly tosses off. “I’ve never stopped looking.” Holding his hand, your fingers wrap around the glove, his warmth feeling like a beacon. 

“Me neither,” He pulls his head back, tears in his eyes. “I never stopped.” Laughing out another sob, you hold his face and take him in. His gloved fingers slide across your face, brushing your hair away so he can take you in before his lips crash into yours. They’re so incredibly warm and he tastes like home, gods, you’ve never been happier to be locked in a cage before. 

He pulls you closer, your tears mixing together on your face, ignoring whatever is going on outside because fuck that. You just got each other back. 

BeeBoo makes a noise she only makes when there’s danger around and you pull away. Grabbing Hiccup’s helmet first, he takes it while you grab yours, quickly putting it back on and grabbing your sword when you see guards rushing over. Hiccup fixes his helmet into place and guides you out, his hand never leaving yours. 

“Attack!”

“Get the rescues out of here!” Hiccup shouts as you leave the cage and Toothless drops down next to him. You beckon BeeBoo to follow Toothless, trusting Hiccup's judgment of his dragon with yours. 

“Okay. Who’s that?” Astrid asks but Hiccup just smiles and flicks his helmet down, his sword igniting in a fire. Your sword isn’t nearly as cool as his, but BeeBoo blasts it with ice that creates a jagged blade. 

“Stay close,” His voice is a plea that you agree to without hesitation, the two of you fighting as if you’d never been separated. He goes low while you go high, disarming threats as they attack. Toothless and BeeBoo work together as well, BeeBoo freezes them into place while Toothless launches them into cages. 

Hiccup swings his sword, bringing a guard's sword to the ground and you tackle the guy, tossing him into a nearby cage. With him knocked out, you turn around and see Hiccup struggling under the guards; Toothless is in the middle of helping the twins so you rush over, jumping on one of the guy's backs to pull him off and down. 

He fairs better with the one guy while you wrestle the second into a pinned position. 

“You okay?” Hiccup breathes, his guy knocked into the cage of the first guy. 

“Yeah,” Nodding, you toss the guy's ax away and pick him up. “I’m just used to fighting dragons.”

“You fight dragons?” He asks and you laugh, fixing your clothes. 

“BeeBoo likes to wrestle but she doesn’t know her own weight.” Ducking under another guard, you kick his legs out and Hiccup keeps him down with his fire sword. 

“Yeah,” He nods, his head bobbing like it always did when he was younger. “I wrestle with Toothless all the time.” For a second, he joins Toothless in taking down a small group and you glance around for your dragon. She’s fine, freezing a broken cage into place. 

“Dragons are such babies!” Punching a rogue guard that had escaped Snotlout, you watch as he falls down. 

Somehow you managed to get back to Astrid; although it’s not that big of a ship. You and Hiccup send your dragon to get the others while you deal with the last of the guards.

“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission,” Astrid rolls her eyes as she walks up, swinging her around around. “And who is that?” 

“Yeah, they always start that way—“

“Look out!” The three of you split up as a spear gets shoved where you once stood before a dragon takes the man away and drops him into the water. “Thanks, Stormfly! Who is that?” Once again, Astrid looks at you and you wave. 

“Long time no see,” You grin, lifting the visor of your helmet. She gasps and looks at Hiccup who nods, squeezing your hand. 

“Move out! We got ‘em all!” Hiccup tells the others and the fight immediately stops; the others find their dragons with ease. You wonder how many times they’ve done this; it seems very well rehearsed. Calling for BeeBoo, you latch onto her tail before she takes up into the sky. 

You wait for Hiccup, blasting a group of guards that had cornered him just as Toothless barrels into the ones BeeBoo hadn’t gotten. You smile when he joins you, nodding to where the others are waiting for him and for you. You look over at them and smile, wiping your face. Joining the others, you’re given a warm welcome by them all— and a very long apology from Snotlout that you promised wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t his fault you got separated and then kidnapped by a dragon. It could happen to anyone really. Hell, it happened to Hiccup's mom from what she tells you as you’re flying. 

“Wanna ride with me?” Hiccup asks when you’re coasting through the air. You’d been flying side by side with him but that wasn’t close enough and obviously, he felt the same way. Nodding, you stand on BeeBoo and take his hand, letting him guide you onto Toothless. 

“Where’re we going?” You ask, laying your head on his shoulder. He squeezes your hand that’s on his waist as he looks back at you; his lips brushing against your lips. 

“Home. We’re going home and I am never letting you go again.”