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fushitoru · 2 months ago

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chapter 8: the lake a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, making out, touching bare skin pre-marriage (the scandal), eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

a/n additional warning that this chapter is not beta read. this may seem like a short chapter but it has TEAAAA (if you didnt already guess from the summary). i pushed myself to finish this for the peeps who finished finals this week so it may be a bit messy. anywho see u down below <3

prev. the rebound | next. the embers

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest gentle reader,

This Author finds herself most intrigued by the unfolding events of the Inos' recent ball. It appears that Her Majesty has not yet abandoned her faith in the diamond she so carefully selected. Will her confidence prove to be misplaced? Only time shall reveal the truth. Yet one cannot deny that fortune seems to shine—dare this Author say, sparkle—upon Miss Itadori of late.

Last evening, she graced the ballroom with a strikingly altered appearance, one that left tongues wagging and gazes lingering. Most notable, however, was the company she kept. Duke Nanami himself was seen at her side, engaged in conversation that appeared both earnest and uncommonly animated. A rare sight indeed, for His Grace has shown little interest in the charms of other young ladies this season. Could this be the beginning of something extraordinary? This Author will watch closely.

And who could forget the Gojo house party, where the drama rivaled even the most lurid novels of the circulating library? Whispers abound of a certain Lord Naoya Zen’in, who, it seems, departed the event looking rather... bruised, both in pride and in visage. What transpired to cause such a spectacle? Alas, my sources have yet to provide all the particulars, but one can only assume that tempers flared—and perhaps fists followed.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Satoru wipes his knuckles on a spare handkerchief, marring it with streaks of crimson. After the blood coating his hand is cleaned off, it reveals light bruises.

He always abhorred such physical entanglements. Let other men soil their reputations in drunken brawls or duels over imagined slights; Satoru prided himself on wit and charm, a tongue sharp enough to parry any insult.

However, for the first time, it seemed that the blasé duke-to-be Lord Satoru Gojo, ever so apathetic to others and their struggles, was not so blasé anymore. What affected him was contradictory; after all, he had made a big decision to avoid being affected by the woman herself. So why was he so…inconsistent? Perhaps it is this unpredictability, capriciousness the reason he has to distance himself from any others who may be in harm’s way—the way forged by Satoru himself. There is no space for inconstancy, irresponsibility, whimsicality, or contradiction in his life, especially not with his duties and the weight held over his shoulders.

But he allows himself this, one last time. Your expression lingered in his mind—the way your lips parted in shock, the stiff set of your shoulders as you brushed past Naoya’s lecherous words without deigning to respond. He had seen the moment your composure faltered, a crack in the armor you wore so effortlessly. The crack only he was supposed to cause.

It was intolerable.

As soon as pale pink ribbons trail out of the room, he moves toward Naoya, completely ignoring the lady who was talking to him and her trailing protests. When he’s right in front of the other man, he gives him a curt nod. “Naoya.”

The other man’s eyes—which were before no doubt prowling on other unsuspecting ladies—flit to him in surprise. “Lord Gojo, what a pleasant surprise. I daresay—”

“Meet me in the courtyard,” Satoru interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Naoya’s brows shot up, but he recovered quickly, a sly grin curling his lips. “A private word? How intriguing. Lead the way, my lord.”

Satoru didn’t wait to see if he followed. His stride was steady, his purpose unwavering.

The cool air of the courtyard carried the faint strains of music from the ballroom, the chatter of guests dimmed by the stone walls. Satoru turned to face Naoya, his stance deceptively relaxed, one hand resting on the pommel of his cane.

“Now, my lord,” Naoya drawled, his smirk widening. “To what do I owe this rather dramatic summons?”

The reply came not in words but in the swift arc of Satoru’s fist, connecting solidly with Naoya’s jaw. The sharp crack of the blow shattered the stillness, and Naoya stumbled, clutching his face as shock registered in his eyes.

“What in blazes—”

“Hold your tongue,” Satoru bit out, seizing Naoya by the lapels of his coat and slamming him back against the cold, unyielding wall. His tone was calm, his voice low, but it carried a menace that silenced all protests. “You will not speak of her in that way again. Do you understand me?”

Naoya grimaced, his defiant eyes narrowing despite the pain. “Ah,” he sneered, a breathless rasp laced with derision, “this is about Miss Itadori, isn’t it? Playing the chivalrous hero, are we, Lord Gojo? Or is it your own wounded ego driving this display?”

The next punch silenced him mid-taunt, burying deep in his abdomen. Naoya doubled over with a strangled gasp, his knees threatening to buckle, but Satoru held him upright, his grip vice-like.

“Speak her name again,” Satoru hissed, leaning close, his voice cold enough to chill even the night air, “and I swear you’ll find yourself in far worse condition.”

The tension between them crackled like a storm. For a fleeting moment, Naoya’s lips twitched into the ghost of a sneer, but his words died unspoken, arrogance muted by the sheer force of Satoru’s fury. Satisfied, Satoru released him with a sharp shove, watching dispassionately as Naoya crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath.

“You are mad,” Naoya spat, wiping at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll ruin yourself over this.”

“Perhaps,” Satoru replied evenly, smoothing the cuffs of his sleeves as though nothing had happened. “But I’ve never much cared for your opinion, Naoya.”

He turned on his heel, his steps measured, his expression impassive.

The sting in his knuckles was a small price to pay. Unfortunately it seemed that for you, it was a price he would pay again and again.

He had told himself the decision was rational. Logical. Your match had to cease because it had begun to unravel him. You were a distraction, one he could not afford. His life was designed for control, every action measured, every move calculated. A match with you, he had realized, would be unlike any other. It would mean more. It would demand more.

And yet, how could he feel this jealousy? This fierce protectiveness? It was contradictory, maddening even. His resolve to avoid entanglements of the heart warred against the memory of your laughter echoing through his mind. It was absurd, but he could not dismiss the sharp ache in his chest whenever you looked at another man, especially one so undeserving as Naoya Zen’in.

He had known from the start that you were different. No coy smiles or simpering obedience. No easy conquest to stroke his ego. Your instant rejection of him during your first meeting had been a blow to his pride and a revelation he had been too stubborn to acknowledge then.

Satoru was not a man who chased after women. He had no need to. And yet…

But even as he walked away, Satoru couldn’t help but feel the cracks in his own carefully constructed armor widening. What, indeed, was he doing?

You startle in your sleep, sitting up abruptly on your bed in the dark.

The season has taken a turn for the good, so far. With Whistledown singing your praises and the Queen not yet deciding to behead you, you were on the path of securing great prospects, whether it be with Duke Nanami or someone else.

“But you’re missing something, aren’t you?”

The voice is a low murmur, brushing the shell of your ear like the ghost of a touch. Your heart leaps to your throat as you twist toward the sound, your eyes darting across the dimly illuminated room. The corners of the chamber remain steeped in shadow, the moonlight doing little to ease your apprehension.

“Who’s there?” you whisper, clutching the sheets tighter, your knuckles whitening around the fabric.

The silence stretches, thick and oppressive, before a figure emerges from the shadow near the mantle. He moves with a predator’s grace, his steps silent against the floorboards. Even before he fully steps into the moonlight, you know who it is.

Gojo.

“You look startled, my lady,” he says, his voice carrying an infuriatingly casual lilt, though his gaze fixes on you with unnerving precision.

“This is a dream,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your effort to remain calm. “You are not real.”

“And yet,” he replies. “here I am. Curious, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge. He’s closer now, standing at the foot of your bed, his pale hair catching the silvery light like a halo—an angel or a devil, you can’t decide. “What do you want, Lord Gojo?” you demand, your voice sharper than you feel.

His eyes sweep over you, lingering for a moment too long before meeting your gaze again. “To commend you, of course,” he says. “You’ve been doing well—dancing with dukes, charming the Queen. The season’s darling.”

His words cut, though you can’t say why. “Why does that matter to you?” you snap, sitting straighter, as though defiance could shield you from the heat simmering in his gaze.

“It doesn’t,” he replies smoothly, though the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk that betrays him.

“Then why are you here?”

His answer doesn’t come in words. Instead, he steps closer, his boots brushing the edge of your rug. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out, his gloved hand catching a strand of hair that’s fallen loose. He rolls it between his fingers, as though testing its silkiness, before letting it slip away. “Because I can’t seem to stay away,” he murmurs. His voice is low, meant only for you, and it sends a shiver through your body.

You scoff, though the sound catches in your throat. “You’re insufferable.”

His chuckle is soft, a deep rumble that seems to linger in the air. “And yet, you don’t look away.”

Your fists clench around the sheets, anger flaring in your chest—anger at him, at yourself, at the fact that he’s right. Before you can stop yourself, you throw the covers aside and rise to your feet.

He doesn’t step back. Instead, he stands still, a study in casual defiance, though his gaze flickers with something you can’t name as you move closer. His eyes lazily drag up and down your frame, which you notice is only covered in a flimsy, almost translucent nightgown.

“If this is a dream,” you say, your voice trembling with fury and something unspoken, “then it doesn’t matter what I do, does it?”

His smirk falters, replaced by a glimmer of uncertainty that only fans the reckless fire inside you. “Perhaps not,” he murmurs, though the tension in his voice betrays him.

Your hands shake as you reach out, your fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. His eyes follow the movement, then stare back at you, into your eyes. For a brief moment, his breath hitches, and his hands twitch at his sides, as though warring with the instinct to touch you. But the flicker of surprise in his eyes tells you he didn’t expect this.

With a sharp tug, you pull him closer, your lips meeting his in a collision of unspoken longing, yearning, and pining. The kiss is unsteady at first, as if both of you are testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, becoming a clash of fire and desperation. His hands find your waist, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s holding on to something precious.

You press closer, letting the reckless freedom the dream gave you sweep you away. His lips part against yours, and the kiss turns slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, savoring you, devouring you. But then, his hands shift, moving from your waist with a slow, tantalizing seductiveness. They skim over your hips, his touch deliberate, before trailing down to the curve of your thighs. His fingers brush over the soft fabric of your nightgown, the heat of his touch searing through the barrier like it isn’t there.

Your breath hitches as he lingers, his thumb tracing a path along the sensitive skin just above your knee. The sensation is electric, and yet it feels like forbidden ground—an intimacy you’ve never dared to imagine, even in your most audacious thoughts.

It’s then that the dream begins to unravel.

His form flickers, as though caught in the haze of a mirage, the sharp lines of his figure softening. The room darkens, the corners of your vision blurring as though the world is folding in on itself.

“No,” you whisper, the word barely audible over the sound of your own pounding heart.

He looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with an intensity that feels as real as your racing pulse. And then he’s gone, the dream dissolving into nothingness, leaving you gasping and clutching the sheets. When you wake, the echo of his touch lingers, the heat of his hands on your thighs an ache you can’t explain. You press trembling fingers to your lips, your breath catching as though the kiss was still happening.

But no matter how much you try, you can’t shake the memory of his hands, of the way he’d touched you like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.

You choose to blame the irregular slumber you have gotten this past fortnight as the reason why you are being so discourteous. For Duke Nanami’s words drift your mind, never truly being registered, as you both had strolled, promenading hand in hand.

It is not merely His Grace who suffers from your inattentiveness. Any suitor who dares to approach is met with the same distracted gaze, your thoughts elsewhere. Whether it is the lingering remnants of that unbidden dream—one you’ve tried and failed to forget—or the fleeting moments where you think you spot Lord Gojo across the green only to realize it is a figment of your imagination, your mind is a battlefield.

A few awkward conversations—where you are not truly present—pass and go, until you sit by the lakeside of Surrey Park, deciding to take a break from the conversations that awaited you if you were to stroll towards your family’s pavilion.

But not now, for here, nature offers solace. The gentle ripple of water, the soft rustling of leaves, the occasional bird song—all soothe the cacophony in your head.

You settle onto a bench, your gown fanning around you, and allow yourself to breathe. But even as you close your eyes and tilt your head toward the sun, the peace does not come. Your thoughts betray you, circling back to him—his infuriating smirk, his piercing gaze, the way his voice seemed to linger in the air long after he was gone. The dream was completely unbidden, unexpected. You had only started to move on and start this season anew. It seemed as your consciousness was working against you in an effort to bring fictional desires to life.

You knew clearly that Gojo was infuriating, and had colored your name. So why must your mind actively go against what was clearly a certitude?

Before you could ponder on your thoughts for much longer, you heard her.

“You do seem terribly at ease for someone of your…reputation.”

The voice startles you, cutting through your reverie like a blade. Your eyes snap open, and there stands Lady Mei Mei, her expression a mask of genteel venom. You sigh inwardly, and bring on your best smile, albeit artificial. “Lady Mei Mei,” you greet, striving for composure. “To what do I owe this very unexpected…interruption?”

“Interruption?” she echoes, feigning offense. “How quaint. I merely wished to congratulate you on your newfound popularity. Though, I must say, the…boldness of your wardrobe choices does make one wonder.” Her gaze drags over your form, disdain dripping from every word. “Are you seeking a husband, my dear, or something far less respectable?”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt, but you maintain your poise. “Boldness, Lady Mei Mei, is often mistaken for confidence by those unfamiliar with either.”

Her lips twitch, but the venom remains. “Confidence, or desperation? It is difficult to tell with one so eager to flaunt herself before the ton. Tell me, do you find it tiring? Whoring yourself out for attention?”

The word lands like a slap, sharp and stinging, and you feel the surge of heat rise to your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, you rise to your feet, smoothing the folds of your gown as you stand. Your chin tilts upward, a shield of composure against the venom Mei Mei has hurled your way. You desperately fight the urge to slap her into nonsense, but there are eyes, no matter how hidden from public view you may think yourself to be.

“I find it far less tiring than wielding envy as one’s primary weapon,” you reply, your voice cool yet cutting, every syllable sharpened to a blade. “But then, I would not expect you to understand.”

Mei Mei’s lips twist into something that might have been a smile, had it not been dripping with malice. Her eyes narrow, the sunlight catching the cold glint of her stare. She shifts closer, the deliberate grace of her steps at odds with the tension crackling in the air. For a moment, you think she might lash out—a slap, a shove, something physical to match her words.

But before the storm can break, a voice, smooth and deceptively warm, cuts through the charged silence.

“Lady Mei Mei.”

Your breath hitches, and you whip your head around to see him. Lord Gojo strides toward you both, his movements as fluid and effortless as a ripple across the lake’s surface.

For a moment, your mind stutters, unable to reconcile the sight before you. He’s here. Not lingering at the edges of the crowd, not offering a polite nod of acknowledgment before disappearing into the fringes of Surrey Park. No, he’s walking toward you with purpose, the light catching in his silver hair, his focus unerringly fixed on the scene unfolding before him.

The man who had, for days, seemed to find every excuse to avoid you (and you him), whose gaze had flicked past you as though you were nothing more than a fixture of the lawn—he was now approaching with a startling intensity, his presence impossible to ignore.

His expression is inscrutable, but the faint furrow of his brow betrays something darker beneath the veneer of his charm. The tension in his jaw, the faint set of his shoulders—it all speaks of an intent that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Lord Gojo,” you whisper under your breath, your voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. What is he doing here? And why, when he looks at you, does it feel as though the air has shifted?

Lady Mei Mei recovers first, her voice cutting through your disarray like a blade. “Lord Gojo,” she purrs, her saccharine tone a stark contrast to the venom she had wielded moments earlier. “What a surprise to see you here.”

But you can’t take your eyes off him. You’re too stunned, too disoriented by his sudden appearance and the sheer force of his presence. Why must he appear now?

His gaze flicks briefly to Mei Mei, his lips curving into a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before his attention returns to you. And when it does, it’s as though the world narrows to the space between you.

“Not half as surprising as overhearing this delightful conversation,” he says, his tone light, almost lazy, but there’s an edge to it—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. His eyes meet yours again, and this time, the intensity in them is impossible to ignore. Your breath holds itself in, your confusion and shock colliding with something you can’t quite name. There’s no teasing quip, no playful smirk to soften his words. Just the weight of his gaze, pressing down on you as though he’s searching for something you don’t understand. Then, he returns it to Mei Mei. “I was unaware you had taken to dispensing moral judgments, my lady. Though I suppose one must occupy their time somehow.”

The barb lands, and Mei Mei’s smile falters. Her spine stiffens, her fingers twitching at her side, but Gojo doesn’t stop. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel, and the shift in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable.

“I would suggest, for the sake of civility,” he says, his voice softening to something far more dangerous, “that you refrain from such remarks in the future.”

The crowd, drawn by the commotion, murmurs from a distance. You feel their gazes prickle against your skin, their curiosity thickening the already-tense air. Mei Mei’s cheeks flush a pale pink, and her hands clench at her sides, the effort to maintain her composure palpable.

“You dare—” she begins, but Gojo cuts her off, his voice a degree colder now.

“I dare a great many things, my lady. Do not test the limits of my patience.”

The words hang heavy in the air, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. Mei Mei’s breath quickens, and though her lips curl into a sneer, the fire in her eyes dims. After a moment, she dips her head again, but this time it’s no longer polite. It’s forced, a concession.

“Very well, my lord,” she says, her voice tight. “I can see when my presence is no longer welcome.”

Lady Mei Mei walked past you to exit the scene, clearly disgraced after Lord Gojo had surprisingly butted in to your defense. Her turn was sharp, and her skirts flared. Then, she did something you hadn’t expected. After all, you were nonplussed from Gojo’s appearance in of itself that you did not have much awareness of your physical environment. Foremost of all, you were furious. How dare he waltz into the scene, aiming at playing hero and gentleman after all he has done to you this season? The anger consumed you, leaving you ignorant to Lady Mei Mei's schemes.

The movement came quickly—a flick of her hand, subtle yet purposeful, as though she intended to brush away an inconvenience. Only, her target was not the hem of her gown or an errant lock of hair. It was you. That is, that was the intention of the action. However, fortuitously enough for you, Lord Gojo had noticed it.

With a sharp tug, his hand closed around your wrist, pulling you aside just as Lady Mei Mei's push landed—on him.

The splash was enormous.

For a moment, the world stood still, the lake swallowing the ripples as though it too were stunned by what had just transpired. Around you, gasps echoed, punctuated by the soft clink of champagne glasses dropped in surprise. All eyes turned toward the water, toward the spot where Gojo had disappeared.

Your pulse pounded erratically, caught between the shock of it all and the mortifying realization that everyone was watching. Watching and waiting.

And then, like something out of a scandalous painting that no young lady of good breeding ought to admit having seen, Gojo emerged.

The water clung to him as though reluctant to let go, his white shirt turned sheer and pasted to his torso, revealing every lean muscle and curve beneath. Droplets trailed from the tips of his silver hair, tracing maddening paths down the sharp edges of his jaw before disappearing beneath the soaked fabric. His black necktie clung damply to his throat, accentuating the hollows there, and when his eyes met yours—gleaming with mischief and something darker—your breath hitched.

It was obscene.

The crowd seemed to agree, though their response was far less scandalized than you might have expected. The ladies weren’t laughing; no, their gazes were riveted, their fans fluttering in a feeble attempt to hide their obvious fascination. Their admiration was palpable, their whispers laden with awe.

Flustered, you took a few steps back to give him space and to not drench yourself (a/n lmaooo you’re drenched already bestie), but you mentally noted to yourself to make his pectorals bigger in your dreams (not that you would continue to have such salacious dreams, of course. It was the mind creating desires you never had, obviously.) It was apparent that you were still very distracted, for you did not notice the two pairs of footsteps rushing towards your direction, towards Gojo.

“What happened?” Duke Nanami looked at Gojo’s very…wet state, concerned and alarmed. “What did you get yourself into this time, Satoru?”

Gojo, who was still wiping water from his hair and grinning like a fool, gave him an exaggerated look of innocence. He ran a hand through his damp, platinum hair, the gesture almost too casual for someone in his drenched state. As he did so, the hem of his shirt inched upward, revealing a tantalizing sliver of bare skin, a sliver that led downward to a trail of white hair disappearing beneath his waistband—

“Kento,” Gojo laughed heartily, as if there were nothing amiss. “You worry too much! A little water never hurt anyone.”

Lord Geto, on the other hand, had been trailing behind Nanami. At the sight of Gojo, he started laughing, snickering mischievously at the sight. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he were fully aware of the scene he was witnessing—Gojo’s accidental plunge into the lake being just another moment of unintentional chaos.

“Oh, Satoru, you're impossible.” Geto stepped closer, shaking his head in mock disbelief, but his smile was far too amused to be truly accusatory or reproachful. "Did you get knocked into the lake by your own... charm?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he glanced at the crowd of ladies now eyeing Gojo as though he were some mythical creature freshly emerged from the depths.

Nanami sighed, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms in that ever-earnest manner that seemed to constantly play contrast to Gojo’s reckless energy. “This is exactly why you need a keeper at all times, Satoru.”

Gojo, still basking in the odd mix of amusement and the lingering attention of the nearby ladies, merely shrugged. “I’m fine, Kento. Just a little... refreshment is all.”

“By the looks of it,” Geto continued with a raised brow, “I’m more concerned about you than you are of yourself.” He gestured with a lazy wave, motioning toward the way the water had soaked through Gojo’s shirt, revealing a lot more than was likely intended. “And, I mean, look at that—those ladies aren’t gazing at you for your intellect.” (a/n LMAO ate him up)

Before Gojo could lob a retort, Nanami interjected with his trademark no-nonsense tone. “Enough of this,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re soaked to the bone. Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill—or create an even bigger scene.”

Gojo lingered for a moment, casting a leisurely glance around the gathering. The ladies, previously locked in their own conversations, now shamelessly ogled him, their fans fluttering uselessly against the rising heat in their cheeks. Their gazes trailed after him as he started to walk away, and you swore you caught more than one wistful sigh among the crowd.

And yet, even as he moved farther from the lake and closer to the house, his steps deliberate and unhurried, he suddenly stopped. Slowly, his head turned, and his piercing blue gaze found yours with unnerving accuracy, as if he’d felt your bewildered stare all along.

His smile appeared—lazy, confident, and maddeningly seductive. The corner of his mouth tilted up just enough to make your stomach flip, and his eyes... Oh, his eyes. They gleamed like a predator’s, sharp and teasing, and yet impossibly inviting.

The world seemed to tilt, the air around you thickening. Your chest tightened with the realization: that smile wasn’t for the crowd, nor for the fawning ladies he left in his wake.

It was for you.

Your cheeks burned, your thoughts a chaotic mess as he turned back and sauntered away, water still dripping from his hair and shirt. The ladies continued to gawk openly, but you remained rooted to the spot, your heart pounding erratically.

Oh, that bastard.

prev. the rebound | next. the embers

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n so....erm this was definitely a CHAPTER.....BUT AH POOKIES ITS HERE i got so excited bc i got the idea to write his lake fall so i finished this chapter. it's a bit messy, like i said, but i hope you liked it <333

I WANT TO SUCK GOJOS DICK BADLYYY i think this chapter was posted so fast after the last bc im on my period and im horny so hence the lake scene was born like i rawdogged this shit in five hours

ANYWYAS THERES PUSH AND PULL YEARNING PINING...so much contradiction hmmmmmm

miss itadori malfunctioning when gojo got out of the water (like a complete SLUT)

anyways i hope some of you WHORESS that simped for bridgerton!geto will be coming anew to simp for our main MAN. this debauchery i approve of. i fear all anons, especially zaynesbathrobe anon and anon in my walls, will be having a field day with this one

thank you for readinggg! please comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3 (esp reblog, a lot of people have been binging bridgerton!gojo recently and spam liking. tumblr daddy might lock me up and shadowban me/mark my account, so reblogs would be appreciated <3)

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acid-ixx · 4 months ago

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brutus: both arms cradle you now (villain au concept)

ft. yandere! harley quinn (brief mentions of the poison ivy and catwoman) x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

"so, you're saying you hate the batman, for personal reasons, cupcake?"

you've never expected to have a therapy session with one of your mentors who took you in.

harley quinn, the girl who took you into her abode right after she found you bloodied and laying in a crimson bath of your own one faithful night; death your only comfort.

she, alongside her other company, are well-known people within gotham's criminal gallery. she's known to be obsessed with her ex back then, chasing after his toxic love despite hers being consistently thrown away, she's been seen fighting, or even sometimes helping your father when he's wearing the cowl just to find the joker, she dons clown makeup and displays athletic talent for combat—

she's not the type you'd expect to be well-versed with a person's mental health, with her playful attitude and bouncy steps, but with the way she notices your uncomfortable body language whenever you stumble upon the bat, or how you simmer in silent rage watching him care for his vigilante partners during times they get injured; you'd have to admit she's more than qualified to ask you sensitive questions nobody ought to ask a violent criminal like you.

you don't know it, but you share far more similarities with the girl than you thought; chasing after love never once reciprocated, she has every right to know what makes you so triggered seeing the vigilante every damn time he's within the vicinity.

she has every right because she's the one who saved you when you thought your life would be all over.

when you believed that that day would be the time your soul would leave your body, you'd suddenly awoke to her gentle coos and her retelling her company on how she stumbled upon you. and another woman's palms are on your heated forehead, an unnatural shade of green, yet she helps swipes away your hair for your head as she listens intently to harley's story; she gazes at you just as softly as the other. she's seated right beside a familiar face, too, with cropped, jet-black hair and cat-eyes. it was her expensive duvet that you lay on.

it was there that they coddled you collectively.

they've been your saviors then, and your mentors ever since. it's what you've never asked for, to be cared for by criminals who fought on the opposite side from your fathers, but you've been craving affection your entire life that you'd never once complain about.

now, in the same apartment, her question lingers in the back of your head, you feel goosebumps rise on the topmost layer of your skin, and your heartbeats hasten against the cage of your chest.

despite that, she merely looks over at you, her eyes held a calculating gaze. it's not exactly nerve-wracking like batman's whenever you had your occasional encounters with him, but you can tell she's psychoanalyzing every aspect of your being.

like a therapist for most, but to you, she does so because you know she cares.

gone was the ditzy smile she likes to wear on her playful lips, or the active, bouncy lilt she has whenever she sits upon the swivel chair to talk to you. she stares at you, with piercing blue eyes and furrowed brows, nitpicking every reaction you conjure.

it seems like now's the time she wants to open up with such a sensitive topics.

especially right after the incident where you cried after watching batman speak to the youngest robin, with the sweetest, most poisonous tone you've ever heard from the man. it makes you want to vomit watching it, makes you wish to shrivel outside-in your costume and burn until you're mere embers.

you ask yourself, 'do i hate him?'

truth is...

god, you wish you do. but you're different now.

you have new people to care for you, now and you'd rather throw away that heart wrenching life you had back in the past. batman is nobody to you now, you wish you could lead yourself to believe that he was just your usual opponent, nothing more, nothing less.

yet you merely shift on your cushioned seat, ignoring the blaring telltale signs in your head to stay silent, and reply to her albeit the unsureness in your tone. your words taste bitter, sour, salty, and no way sweet. every unpleasant flavor swirls in your tongue in a cacophony of emotions; and you wish to cry the longer you speak, tongue-tied and wishing to will away the ache in your chest.

"i don't hate him, harley, at least not anymore... it's different, i don't know what to feel about him. maybe it's rage, maybe i want to exact petty revenge on him because of my past with him. don't know. it's all complicated..."

"if it's not hatred, then it's something else, no? you feel something deep within for him, don'tcha, sweetheart? you can't lie to me, you're hurt, and scarred, because of him and his other vigilante partners, i can tell."

she replies, quicker than you do, with empathy and comfort laced in every syllable of her words, and you're taken aback at the kindness and understanding. your eyes flutter away from her worried ones, and you look down to your clenched palms and feel the callouses from all the harsh training you've conditioned yourself to endure, dismissing the way she stands from her chair to walk over to you.

hurt... that's true. you're hurt, and all the emotional scars that lay within you are still open, bleeding, and it aches deeply. every time you build new memories with these people, the pain of the past overpowers whatever improvement you make in life; as if it's haunting and taunting you.

when she kneels down to the level of your lap, just right beneath your vision so you could see her beyond the layers of hair that cover your watery eyes, you see her soft gaze and find her dainty fingers holding your palms, ones you didn't notice dig nails deep into skin until the rivulets of blood escape.

when she squeezes your hands, you follow along the patterns of inhaling and exhaling through her squeezing, a silent session with her to help you calm down from your foreboding emotions; your hastened breaths and brimming tears. you've been so used to ignoring all your emotions that you forget what panic attacks felt like in so long, not until you discover that you've been having small bouts of it every day; not until you realize how it's always your mentors comforting you through every one of your silent sufferings instead of ridiculing you for it.

"calm down, cupcake... i just wanted to know why, so i, alongside the girls, could help you through your emotions. what type of mentors are we if we can't help you, no? you've been so tense lately, we couldn't even see your cute, little smile these days. so don't forget you're still allowed to cry, sweetie... let all your emotions out, 'kay?"

she speaks, with a gentle timbre in her voice, and you allow her to embrace your form, one you didn't realize was shivering until now. yet you still bury your head further into her body without shame and allow yourself respite for once; allow yourself autonomy to be controlled by repressed pain and sorrow you've tried to bury deep into the marrows of your bones and the cages of your heart.

and now you realize why, why you're all crying all the same like last time, and you simply cry for longer at the realization.

because what contrasts with love, was indifference, and never hatred. you once loved batman, bruce, with all your heart because you're his kid, and your momma taught you to love without any expectations. but he sees you with indifference, with nothingness. no care, no emotions or opinions about you, unlike harley's who holds you in her arms and comforts you throughout your lengthened crying.

he doesn't even look at you. the thought bothers you more than ever.

"it's— you're right," you whisper through your hiccups, burying your head further on her stomach as her right hand plays with the strands of your hair, scratching your scalp in a comfortable pattern. she hums as a reply, and allows you to continue.

"i'm hurt, harley... it's so painful just thinking... thinking about how much i'm in pain because of him... but he's, he's—"

"shh, you don't have to force yourself to open up anymore, sweetheart."

when she releases her hold on you, you let out an embarrassingly loud cry, hands swiftly trying to pull her back to embrace you; too desperate to let go, too paranoid that this is all a dream, you wish to sink into her warmth forever.

but she holds you back, just as quickly with her warm palms at your wet cheeks, and looks at you. like you're her savior, her peace, and her everything.

her next sentences satiate the foreboding hunger in your heart, one too starved, one that craved and wished to take what it never have.

she feeds you with love and affection too sweet that it rids the bitter taste in the back of your throat and the bile that slowly rises every time you reminisce.

"i get'cha, sweetie. you wanted something from him you can never have, and when he didn't give you that, it destroyed you entirely you felt like you can never pick yourself right back. been there, done that—"

"—but look at where we're both at now! living the best of our lives, doing fun, risky heists and making ourselves happy with what we think is good for us, no? you get where i'm getting at, right?"

you don't. you feel like melting into her hands and never leaving. she gives and you take, take, and take everything she offers you.

and she knows you don't understand, so she continues rambling knowing you'd grasp into every word she says, not once breaking eye contact with you. she stares fondly, you gaze back reluctantly, unaccustomed to the affection your mentors shower you with. but you don't pull back, she becomes sad and sulky when you do.

you want her to be happy.

"sweetheart, i'm telling you the past is past! get him away from your mind and throw all the thoughts about him away! if you were nothing to him, then he should be nothing to you, easy as pie."

"you deserve better people in your life, like me, and pam, and selina. i can tell you're rough around the edges but that doesn't mean you should strip yourself away from any privilege to be cared for and loved for by people who love you as much as you love them. he's nothing to you now, alright? it's painful, but you can move on from him. i trust you can— you know why?"

harley questions you, with all the confidence in her tone, taking your head to lay it on her body again, positioning it so you could hear the buzz heartbeat, you bury yourself deeper into her warm body and nuzzle into fabric. your heart hastens, but it wasn't panic, it wasn't even fear or hurt, but a drive and motivation that burns deep inside of you; that this is what you always wanted, and needed to protect, and what she generously provided.

all her words echo through your head like it's the truth, your holy grail.

"you have us now, sweetheart. to love, to guide, and to protect you. we're everything you need now."

and you believe her like she's god.

just this once, you do. you're allowed to hope, to dream, and to finally feel special. to be embraced like the fantasies you had in the past, to be held and comforted through every gut wrenching experience, just as she does, now.

for once, you allow yourself to be loved, even if it means it's by the same hands that stain itself with blood, all shed in the glory of your name.

a/n: happy halloween! i was laying in bed and suddenly had thoughts about this. i don't like this drabble at all ngl erm 😭 this post is related to events prior to the out for blood chapter (idk if i should make it canon to the plot or not) and what i said in this fanart post. despite this not being my favorite piece of work, i like writing about other charactersn too though, especially when they're so soft to the mc. so yeah! if you guys like more of this, please do comment since idk what to feel about this.

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moonchild9350 · 3 months ago

Text

Whispers of Beauty

summary: you find your way again after a horrible breakup with the help of poetry and Hyunjin.

pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers au (slow burn), angst, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 6.8k

warnings: time jumps, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum tasting, finger sucking

notes: reminiscing of hyunjin as always. this will also probably be it until i finish the series i'm working on lol. the poems used in this fic are Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal by Tennyson and She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron if you'd like to read them in full!

if you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost my work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It was another busy day at the cafe, people coming in to order their usuals as they made their way to work, school, or elsewhere. You lose yourself in the art of making their drinks, the familiar task giving you a sense of comfort.

You definitely needed comfort after a recent breakup, the wounds so fresh, you could still feel your heart rip in two at just the thought. You were in need of some healing and your friend, Ember, knew just the activity that will help.

Every Friday, the cafe you worked at hosted poetry night where others can spend their evenings sharing their original works or reciting works of some of poetry’s greatest authors.

You loved poetry, loved getting lost in the words of those who walked this earth centuries before you. The works always incited emotion, your eyes welling up in tears, or scowling in anger at the passion of the writers.

You also loved listening to others, as they poured their heart out through words, weaving their stories through happy narratives or euphemisms.

While you were dating your ex, your passion for poetry dimmed, finding no comfort from the words on the page as your love for the stories was berated and considered worthless.

You sat aside your poems in exchange for the thought of love, burying the feeling of hopelessness deep within your heart.

Now that you were free, you started engaging in poetry reading again, getting lost in the words once more, your smile returning as you found some comfort from them. Ember suggested you start going to poetry nights, so you could get out of the house, meet new people, and of course engage in your ultimate love.

At first, you weren’t keen on the idea, having not gone to an event like this in years, but overtime you changed your mind, deciding it was exactly what you needed.

So you busied yourself in your work, counting down the hours until the end of your shift and when you could take a seat and enjoy the entertainment of the night.

Time passed, people came, drinks were made. Before you knew it, you were clocking out, taking off your apron and setting it on your hook. You fixed your outfit in the bathroom, then went in search of your friend, hoping she had already arrived.

You smiled as you spotted Ember, sitting on a couch in the corner. You walked over to her, embracing in a hug before sitting down with a sigh, happy with the relief of getting off your aching legs.

“I’m so excited you agreed to do this!” Ember exclaimed, pulling you close so she could hug you.

“Same, it’s been too long,” you replied, wrapping your arms around your friend.

She playfully ruffled your hair, laughing as you protested. “Seems like it’ll be a good turn out.”

You scanned the room, noticing that the tables and couches were filling in, friends, couples, and singles alike settling in for a good night.

“Yeah, the turn-out is usually good,” you replied.

You listened to the chatter, your mind wandering elsewhere in the cozy atmosphere. You’re not sure how much time passed as you stared into space, your mind running nonstop.

“Y/n! It’s about to start!” Ember said as she elbowed you in the side.

You shook your head to come back to the present. The lights were dim, a small spotlight shining on a spot in the center of the room. You assumed this would be where those who wanted to share their thoughts would sit, as there was a small wooden stool present, along with a microphone.

The crowd quieted, their attention focused on your boss who walked to the mic. She tapped on the head before clearing her throat.

“Welcome to poetry night! Tonight we will listen to some talented people recite some of literature’s greatest works. So sit back and let the words flow through your soul.”

You clapped as she left the makeshift stage, the first performer taking their place. You listened to poem after poem, your mind opening up and your heart beating at the promise of the words that were flowing through the small space.

Before you knew it, the night was almost over, the event coming to a close. You clapped as the last performer took to the stage, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

He was dressed in a black sweater and jeans, the fit loose on his slim body. His brown hair framed his face perfectly, the strands hanging down to his neck. His eyes were a beautiful shade of chocolate brown and seemed to shine with the spotlight that shone from above. His lips were large and plush and a pretty shade of pink that had you blushing.

He sat on the stool and pulled the mic closer and adjusted it. He cleared his throat as he looked out into the audience, his eyes roaming those gathered as if he was summoning their attention.

The extra step was moot however as everyone’s eyes were trained on him, awaiting the beautiful words that would fall from his lips.

You watched with bated breath as he opened his mouth and began to speak:

“Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.”

As the man spoke, you felt like you were transported to another time, as a princess professes her love for the prince. The words that he spoke were smooth like velvet, yet full of emotion.

His eyes gazed upon the crowd, his eyes catching person after person as he recited the poem, making sure to captivate the audience. Eventually, his eyes made it to you and remained there as he continued to speak.

You couldn’t help but watch his lips as they opened and closed, as he continued his prose. You could feel your face heat up, as you dragged your eyes to his, holding his strong gaze.

He finished in a beat, the crowd erupting in cheers as he stood up and bowed slightly, before returning to his seat. He wasn’t sitting far from you as he was only a few tables away, his back turned toward you.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but stare at the man, your mind still reeling after that performance. You wondered who he was as you haven’t seen him around the cafe. Ember tapped you on the thigh, causing you to turn and look at her.

You rolled your eyes as she wriggled her eyebrows at noticing how you were staring at the mystery man.

Once the lights came back up, people milled around chatting, discussing the choices of the night. You noticed a crowd of people surrounding the mystery man, mainly women gushing at how well he did.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Ember, who was speaking with some random person that was sitting next to you.

“Sure thing babe,” she replied, a sly smile forming on her face.

You walked over toward the man, determined to speak to him before the night ended. You definitely wanted to compliment him on his choice of work as Tennyson was one of your favorite authors.

You waited patiently as the flock of groupies gushed to him about irrelevant things, probably trying to see who could get his number first. You smirked at their desperation, watching as he tried to disentangle himself from a girl who was trying to hug him.

Chuckling, you decided to help him out.

“Eh mm,” you said, raising your eyebrow at the girls who turned around to see who had interrupted them.

“Others are waiting to speak with the gentleman, just wanted to let you know.”

The girls looked at you with disdain, their eyes narrowed as they hesitated to move. When you opened your mouth to say more, they scrambled away, muttering under their breaths about how they were rudely interrupted.

Shaking your head, you approached the beautiful man and smiled.

“Hi, great job tonight. Tennyson huh?” You said, watching as the man blushed and tucked his head down.

“Thank you, uh…yeah. He’s one of my favorites.”

“Really mine too! I’m y/n,” you responded, holding your hand out to shake his hand.

His eyes lit up at your words, excitement etched on his face. “Ah! Another fan, that makes my heart sing y/n. I’m Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin reached his hand to you, wrapping his fingers around yours and giving you a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but think how soft his hands were, albeit a little sweaty.

“I’d love to chat with you more about him…or poetry in general,” you said dropping your hand.

“Of course, of course, that would be excellent!” Hyunjin said as he nodded, his hair falling into his face at the movement.

“Great, I actually work here, so maybe we can meet-up after one of my shifts?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, fiddling with his sleeves.

You smiled at how nervous he was, thinking he was pretty cute. “I’ll see you around then,” you said with a wave of your hand.

You turned on your heels and walked away, making your way back to Ember. You couldn’t miss the sly grin she had plastered on her face.

“Well, well, well, someone’s been busy,” she teased, giving you a wink.

“No, no, I just wanted to speak with him and see if he wanted to talk more about Tennyson. Turns out that’s his favorite poet too.”

“Mmhmm, sure whatever you say babe. Did you get his name?” Ember asked.

“Hyunjin,” you said simply, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body as you said his name.

“Well, may great things be in store for you two,” Ember said, as she genuinely smiled at you.

-- --

Weeks passed with you filling your days with work. You picked up long shifts which left you exhausted by the end of the day, causing you to tread home and immediately fall into bed out of exhaustion.

You saw Ember sporadically over the weeks on your few off days, which was a nice change of pace.

You haven’t seen Hyunjin, as he hasn’t stopped by. You pretty much gave up on the idea of the man showing up, chalking it up to that he forgot or wasn’t interested….not that he owed you anything anyway.

Despite this, a part of you hoped he would have stopped by, wanting to discuss with him his love for literature. You were fascinated with him, remembering how velvety his voice sounded as he brought centuries old words to life.

You were working the register one day, taking people’s orders, which you didn’t mind as most of your customers were regulars and really kind. However, the sight of a particular person made you gasp, your eyes widening at the sight of them.

The man sauntered over, a smirk on his face as he approached the counter.

“Well, well, hi love,” he said.

You felt bile rise-up at his words, your mind swirling with a million thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

Your ex, Elias chucked and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can’t I just stop by for some coffee and to see my favorite girl?”

“I’m not your girl,” you sneered, your fists balling up at your side.

“Oh come on love, don’t be like that. I’ll take you back you know. Just be a good girl and be mine again.”

You were furious, heat rising to your face as your blood boiled. You could feel your hands shake, wanting to punch this man in front of you.

You were about to respond when another person stepped behind Elias, his eyes narrowed.

You looked up and recognized Hyunjin, your heart skipping at a beat at the sight of him.

“You’re holding up the line,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms and adapting a threatening stance.

“I’m almost done,” Elias said as he continued to focus on you.

You swallowed as you saw Hyunjin’s face turn red, his fists balling up.

“Is he bothering you y/n?” Hyunjin asked you, concern in his eyes.

You merely shook your head yes, scared your voice would betray you as you were close to tears.

“Leave.”

Hyunjin spat the word out with so much venom, even you were taken aback. He seemed so sweet and innocent, but it seemed he had a tough side as well.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Elias said, looking between you two. “Good luck man she’s a piece of work.”

At that, Elias turned on his heels and walked away, walking out into the crowded sidewalk. You found yourself letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as your eyes landed on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin let out a huff and then uncrossed his arms, as he walked up to the counter. His eyes searched yours, making sure you were ok.

“Hi,” you sheepishly replied as you fiddled with your apron.

“Hi,” Hyunjin replied as he smiled, clearly happy you were ok.

“So, can I get you anything?” You asked as you smirked.

“Hmmm, I was thinking we could have that chat. Sorry I haven’t stopped by sooner, work has been busy.”

At his words, you felt your heart flutter within your chest, your excitement rising at the prospect of spending time with him. You tried to control yourself before responding, willing your heart to slow.

“I’d love that. I get off at 8.”

Hyunjin smiled, elated that you accepted his proposal. “Perfect, how about I swing by and pick you up then?”

“Sure,” you said as you tried not to bounce on your feet.

“It’s a date then. Oh, and I guess while I’m here, might as well get an iced americano!”

You chuckled and began to ring him up, a smile on your face all the while. When you selected his cup to write his name down, you drew a cute smiley face, adding little stars around the face. You smiled at him as you set the cup down.

“See you tonight y/n,” he said as he turned to walk to the pick-up area.

Your mind was reeling, your heart pounding in your chest. Hyunjin called it a date, an actual date. Is it a date? Did he just ask you out? Or was he just saying that to be cheeky?

The rest of the day, the thought was on your mind, causing you to make a few mistakes as you helped out customers. As the time for your shift to end got closer, you began to feel nervous and jittery, as you weren’t able to stand still.

Hyunjin was right on time, a huge smile on his face as he walked in looking like an absolute angel. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not realizing you were staring until he called your name.

Apologizing profusely, you clocked out and grabbed your stuff, rushing to stand by his side.

“Where to?” You asked, looking up into his eyes.

“Well, I thought we could take a walk around the city? Chat a little and enjoy the night atmosphere?”

A walk after a long day sounded perfect.

“I love that, let’s do it!”

Hyunjin grinned and bowed, ushering you ahead. You giggled and blushed as he opened the door for you, the little bell tinkling lightly against the glass.

You stepped out into the night air, the crispness a nice welcome after being in the cafe all day. You both joined the many others making their way down the sidewalk.

“So you like poetry?” Hyunjin asked in a serious tone as he stared straight ahead.

“Mmhmm, I do. I studied English literature back in university. I don’t know, it’s just something about reading the words of those from long before you that creates such an intimate look into their life and thoughts.”

“I get it. I’ve been studying and reading poetry a few years now. It’s a comfort to me.” Hyunjin said, as he contemplated his thoughts.

“How long have you been reciting poetry?” You asked, turning to look at him.

Hyunjin paused in thought as he considered your question. “I’d probably say the last three years or so.”

You hummed in response, impressed with his dedication. You both were silent for a moment, the sound of crickets chirping through the night, their song almost melancholic.

“So…” Hyunjin began, “who uh…who was the guy that was harassing you earlier? Of course you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I was just curious…” he continued, his voice trailing off.

You let out a heavy sigh. You deserved to give him an answer, especially since he came to your aid.

“That was my ex, Elias. We broke up a few months back. He um…I caught him with another girl in our bed…”

Your mood fell at the thought, remembering the day when you came home, exhausted from your long day at work. You were excited to see your boyfriend and have a relaxing evening…that is until you found out he wasn’t exactly excited to see you as he was between some other girl’s legs.

You recounted to Hyunjin how Elias tried to deny the affair, even though you saw the proof with your own eyes, but you didn’t give him a chance to grovel, ending the relationship that very night.

Hyunjin listened intently, his heart breaking at the fact that someone who was supposed to love you betrayed you instead. He definitely thought you deserved better as you seemed intelligent and kind and not to mention beautiful.

“I’m sorry y/n… he seems like an asshole to be honest.” He replied as he balled his hands into a fist at the thought of the sleaze bag he encountered earlier in the day.

“I recognize that now. There were definitely signs leading up to that night, but I guess I chose to ignore them.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I get it. You were blindsided by what you thought was a loving relationship.”

You hummed in agreement. You were blinded and so stupid, but Elias was in the past. You didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

“You deserve better y/n, just thought I’d mention it.”

You felt the corner of your eyes prickle with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. Your chest felt heavy at his way of consoling you.

You did deserve better, and you believe that’s why his betrayal hurt so much. Your heart was healing, one day at a time. You could feel another stitch find its way within you at his words, Hyunjin’s company soothing. Somehow at that feeling, you knew you would be ok, and could continue to heal with the help of Hyunjin.

Your mind wandered to the man next to you. Maybe it was fate that you met him that night. If it wasn’t for your friend pushing you out of your comfort zone, you’d have never stayed to listen to others pour their heart out in prose and ultimately never met Hyunjin and his beautiful soul.

Months have passed and you are now dating Hyunjin. Each day is full of bliss as he showers you with love, making sure you feel like a queen.

He is picking you up after work and taking you to dinner as today is your birthday. You tried asking where he was going to take you, but he kept saying it’s a surprise.

You were excited to say the least at the thought of the night to come. Your shift couldn’t end soon enough, as the clock struck six, your boss letting you go early in honor of the special day.

Your face lit up at the sound of the bell, Hyunjin walking into the cafe. He looked handsome in his jeans and sweater, his hair styled neatly.

“Hi angel! Ready?” He asked, stopping at the counter.

“Yep! Let me clock out and grab my bag.”

Hyunjin chuckled as he watched you scramble around, picking up your bag and hurrying to his side.

“Now I’m ready,” you smiled, looking up at your boyfriend.

Hyunjin grinned and took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he brought the back of your hand to his lips for a kiss.

Even though you’ve been dating for a few months now, you still blushed at his antics, the novelty never wearing off.

“Then let’s go, angel.”

Hyunjin led you out of the cafe and outside. You looked around your surroundings, your eyes widening at every restaurant you passed, wondering if it would be the one.

However, you passed building after building, not stopping at any of them.

Hyunjin could sense your curiosity, as he gave your hand a squeeze. “We’re almost there, see?” He asked, pointing to a building in the distance.

You took notice of a brick building that seemed empty. You were confused as he guided you to the door, the corridor beyond eerie looking.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you were more than nervous at this point.

You trusted Hyunjin but a part of you was a little scared, not knowing what awaited you within the building.

“Don’t worry angel, let’s keep moving, just one more flight of stairs,” Hyunjin cooed, as you both walked up a flight of stairs.

At the top of the staircase there was a large door, the metal frame seeming unwelcoming. Hyunjin stopped in front of it and grasped the handle while looking at you with a bright smile on his face.

“Ready?” He asked.

You nodded your head and held your breath, prepared for whatever was on the other side. As he opened the door, you were greeted with a balcony overlooking the city, the skyline lit up against the night sky. There were fairy lights strung around the perimeter, casting a soft glow on the rooftop.

In the center, there was a small table, set up for two, the flicker of two candles casting shadows across the table. It was all so surreal. You couldn’t believe Hyunjin did all of this for you.

“Surprise!” Hyunjin said, dramatically wiggling his fingers.

You chuckled at his antics, all of your nervousness gone.

“It’s beautiful! I can’t believe you did this for me,” you said, your voice breaking as you looked at Hyunjin.

“Aww angel, don’t cry,” Hyunjin said as he rushed over to you.

He gently wiped the tear that had escaped while he pulled you closer to his body.

“I’d do anything for you y/n. I love you so much.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words as the feeling of butterflies fluttered within your stomach. You couldn’t believe your luck, happy that you were able to share this moment with the most perfect man.

“I love you too,” you gushed, your cheeks flushing with the statement.

Hyunjin flashed his beautiful smile before taking your hands in his once more.

“Shall we?”

“Yes please,” you softly said, letting him pull you toward the table.

You watched as he pulled your chair out, gesturing for you to sit. Once seated, he rushed to his chair and sat down. Your eyes followed his every move as he plated up dinner, the food smelling delicious as it was piled up on your plate.

He poured both of you a glass of wine and then signaled he was done. You both began to eat, the food seeming to melt on your tongue as a burst of flavors invaded your taste buds.

Hyunjin filled the evening with chatter, asking you about your day in detail. You were more than happy to discuss your day, as it was a little rough, having some difficult customers come through.

Once you were done eating, Hyunjin dished up dessert, setting down a slice of chocolate cake in front of you.

“You know me so well,” you said as you eyed the cake, your mouth watering in anticipation at eating the sweet treat.

“Of course angel, have to make sure you have your chocolate!”

You giggled and picked up your fork and cut a piece off. You moaned at the taste, your eyes closing as it melted in your mouth. You were in heaven, or close to it.

“So,” Hyunjin started as he twirled his fork around in his hand. “I am going to enter into the poetry night contest at the cafe. I think it would be something fun to do.”

Hyunjin looked at his plate, nervous in how you would respond. He wanted to share his talent with more people, and what better way to do so than through a friendly competition? The prize was also nice, one he believes would be worth winning.

“That’s a great idea baby!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands at the idea.

Hyunjin’s eyes lit up at your enthusiasm, his body relaxing further into the chair at your acceptance.

“Mind if we practice when we get home?” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Of course, I’d love to help you,” you gushed, excited to hear which poem he chose.

“Great, let’s pack up and then we can head back.”

You nodded and began to gather your trash, helping hyunjin clean up. Once done, you both walked back to his apartment, giggling and chatting the whole way, your arms swinging back and forth between you.

“Thank you for dinner baby, I really did enjoy it,” you said, as you continued your walk.

“I’m happy you liked it angel, anything for my baby.”

You chuckled, your heart swelling at how sweet he is. You walked in silence, enjoying the quiet of the city as it was late. Within the last few blocks from Hyunjin’s apartment building, an idea popped in your head.

“Wanna race the rest of the way and see who can get there first?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Oh yes! Let’s do it,” Hyunjin said.

“Just so you know, I plan on winning,” you teased as you dropped your hand from his.

“I’d like to see you try,” Hyunjin responded while squatting, preparing to take off.

“Ok, ready? 3…2…1..go!”

You both took off down the walk, a fluster of laughter and shouts as you both raced to his building. You couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy as you felt the wind blow through your hair as you raced your boyfriend. Tonight was a perfect night indeed and would definitely be one of your favorites.

— —

Once inside, you both made yourself comfy, changing into your sleep clothes. You giggled as Hyunjin pulled you into bed and pressed kisses all over your face.

“I love you sweet girl,” he murmured in between kisses.

“I love you too baby, that tickles!” You chuckled as he tried to pull you closer, all the while continuing to kiss you.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Happy birthday angel,” he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled before leaning over to kiss him on the lips, your heart swelling at the gentleness of the kiss. You both laid there for what felt like a lifetime, snuggled into each other’s embrace as you lazily kissed each other. You tugged your fingers through his hair, the soft locks gliding easily through them.

Hyunjin whimpered against your lips, as he pressed himself against you, his length hard against your thigh. You rolled your hips, grinding against him as you deepened the kiss, running your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance.

He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other as his tongue danced with yours. You wrapped a leg around his waist so you could feel him better and continued to grind against him, sighing against his lips as his cock brushed against your core.

Disconnecting with a gasp, you laid there catching your breath as you stared at your lover, taking in the love mixed with lust in his eyes. Your eyes fluttered as Hyunjin lightly dragged his finger down your cheek, to your lips, his thumb catching at your bottom lip.

You moaned as he slowly pushed his finger within your mouth, your lips immediately wrapping around the digit. You lightly sucked on his finger, your tongue swirling around the digit, your eyes on his.

You smirked as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. As you released his thumb with a pop, Hyunjin pounced on you, rolling you onto your back. He attached his lips to yours in a hurried kiss, his hands fumbling with your sleep shorts.

He dragged them down as best as he could, you aiding the process as you wiggled out of the fabric, your feet pushing them down your legs. Hyunjin pulled away briefly as he gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head.

You moaned as he attached his lips back to yours, your pussy clenching as he rocked his clothed cock into your core. He lazily kissed you, his pace slowing down, his heart beating against yours. You were lost in the feel of him when you heard him murmur, his voice sultry in your ear.

“She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

You pulled away slightly, confusion plastered on your face.

“Baby…what…”

But Hyunjin just silenced you with a kiss. “Shhh my angel, I’m practicing remember?”

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, lost in thought as his lips moved with yours, until it clicked a few seconds later. The poem. Ahh it made sense now.

At that, you relaxed further, letting out a sigh as his lips moved to your neck, sucking the skin there and licking the area to sooth it. Your fingers played with his hair, twirling the ends around the digit. As he continued to leave purple marks on your skin, he continued murmuring, his voice soft in the otherwise quiet room.

“One shade the more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace, which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o’er her face; where thoughts serenely sweet express, how pure, how dear their dwelling place.”

Once he was done reciting the next part, he trailed his lips on your chest, pressing wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. He wrapped his plush lips around your nipple, letting out little moans as he suckled the hardened nub.

“So beautiful angel,” Hyunjin murmured in between kisses as he fondled your breasts, his eyes closed in bliss as he savored your body.

His fingers trailed down your tummy, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way to your core, his fingers swirling around your swollen clit. You sighed as he continued to gently play with the nub, shocks of pleasure wrecking your frame as you surrendered to his ministrations.

As he tortured your sweet flesh, his eyes snapped up to watch you writhing in pleasure. Licking his lips, he took a shaky breath before continuing on.

“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow; but tell of days in goodness spent, a mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.”

You opened your eyes as he finished, his voice trailing off at the end. You looked down at the love of your life between your legs, watching the veins pop out of his arms as he continued to pay attention to your clit.

You were close, the pleasure building, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe. Your hands gripped the sheets, the white fabric bunching up as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

“So sweet, so beautiful, delicate like a flower. Cum for me angel.”

You groaned at his words, your orgasm hitting you hard as he continued to gently fondle you. He grinned as you fell apart, his eyes roaming your face, taking in the look of pleasure, the scent of you as your slick made a mess of his hands.

Once you came down, Hyunjin shuffled up, parting your legs even more. At some point he had rid himself of his clothes, his hand stroking his leaking cock.

He brought his length between your folds, running his cock through your slick, before pushing into you. You both let out a moan, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin as he began to thrust into you.

“My baby,” Hyunjin cooed as he leaned down, your hands wrapping around his neck as you brought him closer to you.

Hyunjin slowly thrusted into you, taking his time, his cock dragging through your walls and hitting your sweet spot each time. You whined as he buried his face within your neck, placing sloppy kisses there, as he murmured his love for you.

You felt overwhelmed as he made love to you, the heat within your core building again. You clutched onto Hyunjin anywhere you could, his hair, his back, his waist as he brought sweet bliss upon you.

You reveled in the sound of both of you, as you breathed as one, punctuated with a low moan as he continued to rock into you. Hyunjin groaned each time your pussy made known how good he was fucking you, his hips stuttering as you squeezed around him.

“Come on angel, cum for me, be a good girl yeah?” Hyunjin moaned into your ear, his pace becoming more erratic as he got closer to his high.

You felt his cock twitch within you, your pussy clenching again and again, locking him in. You were blindsided as the coil within you snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard as you gasped, your pussy dripping with your arousal, drenching Hyunjin’s cock as he continued to fuck you through it.

Hyunjin let out a loud groan at the feel of your walls spasming around him, triggering his high, his cum spurting out within you, thoroughly coating your walls.

As you came down, you watched the man you love fall apart above you, a sight you will never get used to. He looked down at you, sweat dripping down his face, his hair disheveled as he thrusted his hips within you a few more times for good measure.

“Such beauty in your afterglow,” Hyunjin cooed as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and trailed a finger from your lips, down your chest, your breasts, your tummy, all the way down to your core.

He dragged his finger through some of the cum that was leaking around his cock that was still buried within your heat. Taking his soaked finger, he brought it to your lips, smiling as you opened and took the digit in.

You swirled your tongue around his finger, licking up the salty liquid, humming as you swallowed.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin praised as he withdrew his finger and his cock.

You whimpered at the emptiness, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin. He snuggled into your embrace, pressing sweet kisses all over your face.

“Stop baby,” you giggled, turning your head side to side.

“Nope, won’t stop angel,” Hyunjin teased as he continued his assault.

You both battled for a little while longer, the room filled with laughter as you both teased each other. Hyunjin settled down however and stared at you, almost as if he was staring into your soul.

“You know I love you right?” Hyunjin whispered, as he memorized your face for the millionth time.

“Mmhmm,” you said as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “And I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled at your confession as he leaned to press another kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday,” he said as he rested his head on your chest.

This would be one of your best birthdays yet, filled with special moments with the man you love.

The days passed as Hyunjin prepared the competition. He was ready to win, ready to receive that prize so he could surprise you. He had a plan after all.

You helped him practice as much as possible, your nights spent at your place or his, snacks scattered around the table as Hyunjin paced the floors reciting the poem. You were sure he would win, as he improved greatly over the last few weeks.

You had to work the day of the competition, however, Hyunjin would meet you there before your shift ended.

“You got this babe,” you said to him as you left for your shift, giving him a smile as you walked out the door.

Your shift passed, your nerves getting the best of you as the time of the competition drew nearer. Ember showed up early, wanting to support your boyfriend and cheer him on.

You directed her to a table, so that way you both would have good seats for the night. It didn’t take long until Hyunjin showed up, handsomely dressed as always.

He smiled as he approached you. “Hi angel!” He gushed, his body radiating with excitement.

“Hi baby, ready?”

“Of course, gonna win this thing!”

You chuckled at his optimism. “Go sit, Ember saved us seats. I’ll be there soon.”

Hyunjin nodded and blew you a kiss before walking away, taking a seat next to your friend.

You finished your shift and clocked out, the time passing fairly quickly. You sat down next to Hyunjin and placed your hand on his giving it a squeeze. He seemed to be buzzing with enthusiasm, but deep down you knew he was nervous.

“You got this baby,” you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze.

Hyunjin smiled and relaxed, elated that you were there to cheer him on.

The event began in no time, the little cafe packed with patrons. You watched as contestant after contestant performed, their words filling the small space, and taking the listeners to a different place and time.

Before you knew it, it was Hyunjin’s turn. You and Ember cheered him on as he took his place on stage, his confidence oozing as he gazed at the crowd. You were captivated as he began to speak, the words reaching each person, telling a story of love and beauty.

Hyunjin maintained eye contact with each person, his voice raising and falling at the appropriate moments, his hands flowing in movements that helped tell the story.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and neither could anyone else. After he recited the last line, there was silence in the cafe as everyone recovered from the journey, before a thunderous applause rang out.

You grinned as you cheered enthusiastically, watching as your boyfriend bowed before walking back to your table.

“Good job babe!” You said as you kissed his cheek, the flesh reddening at the action as all eyes were on him.

As he was the last contestant, the award ceremony began shortly after his performance. You listened as your manager thanked everyone for being there to support these talented people as cheers rang out once more.

Once she was done with logistics, the time came to announce the winner. You held your breath as she slowly unfolded a piece of paper, your hand reaching out to hold on to Hyunjin’s.

She took a moment to read what was written before a smile broke out on her face.

“And the winner is….Hwang Hyunjin!”

Cheers rang out at the announcement, but loudest of all was you. You hugged Hyunjin tightly, tears forming in your eyes at his win.

Hyunjin stood up to go claim his prize, the loud uproar not dying down until he sat down.

“You did it!” You exclaimed, grasping his hands in yours.

Hyunjin beamed, his eyes shining as he tried not to cry.

“I did it for us love.” He said as he gazed into your eyes.

You cocked your head in confusion. “For us?” You inquired.

Hyunjin nodded as he handed you the prize he’d won. “Open it.”

You took the envelope from him and opened it, eyeing two pieces of paper nestled within. It took you a moment to notice what they were.

“Plane tickets?” You looked closer. “Oh! We’re going to Paris!” You exclaimed as you began bouncing on your seat.

“Yes we are angel,” Hyunjin said as he watched you dance in your seat.

Hyunjin needed to win this trip. He wanted to take you to Paris, the city of love, to shower you in love. He also had another plan up his sleeve, one that he had to keep secret for just a little longer.

His mind wandered to the little black box tucked away in his sock drawer, a beautiful diamond nestled in the velvet within. He knew you were the love of his life from that first day he saw you, sitting in the crowd listening to him speak.

You were his muse, his love, his everything; your aura radiating whispers of beauty.

He wouldn’t want to spend his life with nobody else but you. That he was sure of.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfics #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours

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koiiiji · 4 months ago

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author's note ; a terribly trivial trope with gods!au but i still like this idea. my first attempt to write for jjk so be nice... please?🙏🏻🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

pairing ; god of war!Sukuna x goddess of love!reader

tw ; suggestive, possessive, mentions of blood, Sukuna himself is a trigger warning.

first art credit to ryoza on X, third unfortunately i don’t know, i just took it from pinterest, if u know the artist let me know.

the world outside your temple is dying.

you feel every heartbeat snuffed out like a candle in the wind, every soul extinguished under the weight of Sukuna’s brutal assault. the prayers of your people grow weaker with each passing moment, their pleas mixing with the acrid smoke rising from your city. a city, your sacred haven, you swore to protect, everything has fallen. as the goddess of Love you can do nothing but listen as your people are slaughtered by the god of War, Sukuna, and his vicious army.

yet here you stand, in your temple of marble and gold, powerless against the force that rages just beyond its doors.

then, a low groan of ancient stone pulls your attention. the great doors shudder before they’re forced open, and the breath catches in your throat. he has come.

the god of War strides into your sanctuary, and with him, the violence of the outside world bleeds into your sanctuary. his presence alone warps the very air, thickening it with malice and death. you feel it immediately — the oppressive weight of his aura, so unlike your own. it’s as if the divine purity within you is recoiling, trying to retreat from the darkness he carries with him.

he is the storm to your calm, a god forged in battle and blood, and it feels like the very walls of your temple groan under the strain of holding him. his aura is suffocating, a constant pulse of violent energy that seeps into every corner, every crevice of the sacred space, corrupting it just by being there.

delicate floral incense that used to fill your temple is swallowed by the acrid stench of blood. the faint scent of burning flesh seems to follow him, clinging to his skin and weapon. it turns your stomach, and yet all you can do is back away.

his eyes — deep red, smoldering like embers — lock onto yours with a dark amusement, the corners of his mouth lifting into a cruel grin. where you embody love and gentleness, everything about him is violence and possession. there is nothing in his gaze, but only burning hunger.

you stand before him in white, light robes, the embodiment of purity itself, but his mere presence in your temple feels like a violation, like he burning your delicate skin with his dirty, bloody hands. you can feel the sacred energy of the space twisting, recoiling from him. soft tapestries that once shimmered in the glow of the candles seem to sag as if under the weight of his power. the statues of you that line the walls — once symbols of hope for your people — seem to dim, the light in their eyes snuffed out by the God of War's corruption.

Sukuna takes a step forward, and his shadow seems to stretch across the entire hall, swallowing the light. aach step echoes like a death knell, the sound of his boots on marble a cruel reminder that he has defiled everything that was once pure. his bloodied hands drag across the white stone altar, leaving streaks of crimson on the sacred surface. It’s a deliberate act of desecration — he wants you to feel it. wants you to know that nothing here is untouched by his violence.

“you’ve built a lovely sanctuary,” he muses, voice low and mocking. “so pure. so fragile.” his eyes gleam, sharp as blades. “but like everything else you’ve created, it will fall. just like your people. just like you.”

the divine power that fills your veins feels cold now, diminished in his overwhelming presence. you, the patroness of love and purity, can do nothing to stop the wave of blood and death he brings with him.

his aura presses down on you, crushing and suffocating, smothering the breath from your lungs. it’s like standing before a predator who takes his time savoring the moment before the kill.

“look at you,” he sneers, stepping closer, his voice a twisted mockery of gentleness. “all of this love… yet you reek of weakness.”

your hands tremble at your sides, fingers curling into the fabric of your robes as if it could somehow anchor you to this space, to the divine essence that has protected you for so long. but even that protection feels fragile now, brittle under his relentless gaze. his eyes burn into you, full of something darker, more twisted — obsession.

you can feel it, his claim sinking into the very fibers of your being. Sukuna is not here to simply conquer. he has razed cities, destroyed armies — but you, you are the prize that he truly desires. his fixation on this idea, thick in the air, and it terrifies you.

“do you feel it?” his breath is hot against your skin now, his body towering over yours, radiating raw power. his voice is soft, almost intimate, as he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you can’t escape me, Goddess. this temple, your city, your people… they were nothing more than a prelude.”

his fingers, stained with the blood of your followers, trace along the line of your jaw, leaving a smear of red on your pale skin. touch burns like fire, sending a violent shudder through your body.

Sukuna’s grin widens, sensing your fear, your hopelessness. “you were never meant to be untouchable,” he whispers darkly. “not from me. you, with all your love, purity and light… it was always meant to be broken.”

“be broken by me,” he continue, hissing venomously into your ear, voice thick with satisfaction…

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk au #yandere jjk x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen smut

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atalldrinkofcaprisun · 3 months ago

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Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 1)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

sooo what’s up!!! I’m reworking this fic. again. so keep your eyes out if you like it lmao

also on ao3 xx masterlist

You burst into the old blown out factory, lungs heaving to try and provide oxygen to your muscles and heart, sprinting across the underground city had been a feat of adrenaline. The streak of blue that had cut across the blood colored, smoke tinted moon had filled you with dread. It had started in your chest, a pile of rough cut stones, falling down to your stomach and resting there.

The edges of your vision were dark as you rested your hands on your knees, trying to steady yourself, “Jinx!” Your voice echoed deep into the factory’s carcass, “Jinx! Are you here?”

Silence. Of course she wouldn’t respond. Even if she was still here, she was morbidly melodramatic. Since the bridge a few nights past, you had only heard whispers of the girl you had grown to love like your own.

Silco had been worried sick, and desperately trying to hide it. You hadn’t seen him either since he left to meet with the Piltover golden boy. That was almost seven hours ago. You fixed your posture and decided to take in the dimly lit surroundings.

The walls of rubble cast deep and jagged shadows across the wreckage. Jagged rusted beams jutted upwards, as vegetation stretched across wire and debris. The moonlight cloaking it all in a crimson. There was a clearing created beneath a segment of the cannery that was still relatively intact. A table sat in the center, surrounded by wreckage and scars from old chaos. It was set with candles, place settings and chairs. The smell of gunsmoke still hovered in the air, faded and cut with the tang of blood and smoke. There were four chairs, one on each end of the table and one next to the others on opposite sides. Various nicknacks and guns were strewn on it.

That’s when your eyes fell on the only other person left in the room.

Your heart stopped, you knew that profile. The landscape of features you’d painstakingly memorized, hidden by the shadow of his office chair. His body was slack and hanging as if he had simply once again fallen asleep at his desk upon first glance. A twinge in your gut told you something was very wrong. Silco would have responded to your voice. He always did.

You took one step forward, and another, “Silco?” your voice felt far away. With more cautious steps you were able to stand in front of him. You immediately noticed the ashen tone settling in his face, the trickle of drying red coming from his mouth. Your heartbeat surged in your ears as the world around you began to shake, or was that you?

He wasn’t breathing, “Silco, can you hear me?” Your hand reached out instinctually, trying to push back the strands of hair that had fallen into his face. He always hated it when his hair was mussed in anywhere but your private rooms at the Last Drop. He was getting so cold! You could feel the lump forming in your throat, “Sil… Silco please,” you bent, crouching so your hands could cup his face.

His eyes, a part of him that was so expressive and alive, looked empty, dull. Even his glowing eye that had made darkness always seem less menacing was lifeless. His ember eye was looking at the abyss, the familiar glow faded away. The reality was before you, straight from some nightmare. But you weren’t asleep. This was real. He was- You felt the rawness of your throat before you realized you were the one screaming. Pain rippled through your body as you cradled your heart in your hands.

You let the tears fall, cascading down your cheeks, you heaved in air but it wasn’t enough, you still couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when he had just begun to see that there are more goals than simply war and glory. You looked at his torso, unable to see his face so slack and aimless for a second longer. Bullet wounds were slashed into his clothing, blood dripping into his fine fabrics and leathers, cooling and tinted just the slightest glimmer of purple.

“I- I didn’t mean too…” the voice cut through the sobbing, causing you to gasp and turn. Somehow Jinx had gotten behind you, just as she always did. A hyper-pigmented shadow. You looked up at her with ruddy cheeks.

Her eyes burned a violent pink in the half light and her arms were wrapped tightly around her midsection. Her entire body was shivering. Her bangs had fallen in her face, matted and dirty, long braids trailing haphazardly behind her. Her lips were pouted and tear tracks of dried shimmer lay crusted on her freckled cheeks, “It was… a mistake… I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed it to stop! They were shouting! I’m- I’m so sorry,”

You looked at the girl who you had helped raise from an orphaned urchin. For the first time in a long time you were looking directly at that little girl again. Your head was spinning trying to comprehend everything as Silco’s body continued to cool. What she was saying, “Jinx… you did this?”

“No-no it was an accident. There were too many voices and I saw a gun-“ She stepped further into the light. Now you could see, the large shark-like rocket launcher slung behind her back. She dropped heavily to her knees, crumbling to the stone floor, “I fired it. Like he wanted. Fishbone worked. He-He told me to show them all.” Her voice was clipped and irregular.

You shook your head, “That’s not important right now. How long has he been here?”

Jinx rubbed away her tears and sniffled, “I d-don’t know.”

“Okay,” you felt your resolve settling back in your chest. A hand moved from Silco’s face to reach into your travel pouch, and pulled out a magenta tube full of Shimmer and the injector you kept on hand just in case, “If you can do it, Jinx, so can he.”

You took a deep breath and slid the tube into its slot, priming the needle and looking at the blue-haired girl, “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” You said it more for yourself than anything, before plunging the needle loaded with serum into his chest, just right of his heart.

The injector hissed as the Shimmer emptied itself into his bloodstream. You watched the drug vanish, making sure the vial was empty before you backed away. Silco was tied up still but you had seen many people react very badly to the substance before. He had a certain level of immunity after years of having it be the sole medication that worked on his condition, but better safe than sorry. You opened your arms for the blue haired girl to come to your side. She obliged, throwing her weight into you. Your arms wrapped around her and you waited with bated breath.

For a moment nothing happened, Silco remained lifeless and still. You could feel the little spark of hope fading away once again. It had been too long. You’d been too late, or hadn’t had enough.

His shoulder twitched, just a small amount. Barely noticeable if not for the rustle of his shirt. Your breath hitched and you felt Jinx tense in your arms, “Did… did it-“

All at once, Silco’s head snapped backwards as purple light erupted along his veins, up his neck and face, sliding down his arm and supposedly the rest of his body. He inhaled sharply, his teeth clenched as the spasms began. You could almost feel the drug searing through his veins as if it was in your own. His muscles spasmed and his body seemed to flex and strain at the influx of shimmer. His head remained tilted upwards and the wooden chair he was bound to creaked as he shuddered. The whimpers and gurgles became grunts of pain and those turned into shouts, “No- Please- She’s my daughter! I need her! I won’t give her up! No!”

Silco’s long fingers gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles turning white. He growled and gagged as his body thrashed. Jinx tucked herself closer and closer into you, watching with wrapped horror.

“Sil? Sil can you hear me?” You called, hoping your voice could cut through whatever hallucinations he was seeing.

“No! Not them! Please, my-Mrph my family- Ah!” He howled as his eyes began to shine like his veins, light pouring out and upwards. He sobbed your name, begging. You couldn’t keep away. Jinx willingly slipped from your arms as you leapt to his side. You placed your hands on his hollow cheekbones again. Responding to your touch he looked at you, but he didn’t seem able to see you, “Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt them,” he begged over and over, his voice breaking.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Silco, it’s me!” Your voice trembled when you spoke.

His good eye seemed to finally come into focus, seeing your face, relief washing into him as the effects of the Shimmer dosage began to be more manageable. You were grateful you had been carrying his particular dilution of the substance. You ran a hand through his hair, “Breathe, it’ll be over soon, then we can take you to Singed, he’ll be able to patch you up, just like new. Just breathe, darling.”

“You-You’re here? Th-This is real?” His voice was more of a slurring than actual speech.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Yes, Sil. It’s gonna be alright. You’re going to survive. Don't you dare ditch me in this mess.”

You looked behind yourself to see Jinx staring at the pair of you, eyes wide with worry and guilt, but you sniffed and shook your head as if to say, ‘Don’t worry about it now.’

“I’ll go get the doc. I’m the fastest… you can cut him loose when the purple is gone. He’ll bleed out if he moves now.” And like the darkness in a room when you turned on a light, she was gone. Fishbones laying in the dust as the only evidence she had been there.

You didn’t have time to worry about Jinx however, that would be something to deal with when Silco was stabilized. You refocused your attention, as another wave of pain seemed to overcome him and he hissed, hands once again gripping the chair arms with white knuckles.

“Hold on, Sil. Help is on the way, we’re going to survive this. All of us.” You settled in for the wait.

#silco #silco x reader #dontwaitformeafterimgone.series #arcane

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the-kr8tor · 1 month ago

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Rose Hips + ⭐️ : Jason Todd and fae!reader in an AU where he and reader have been friends since he was on the streets and wandering forests and reader gives up their immortality to save Jason after he’s been killed by Joker c:

Gasp! A jason todd fic from me?! 😂 Thank you for the request, tony!!! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for vague clothing), reader has a nickname, robin! Jason Todd, can be read as platonic, fae! Reader, CW injury, CW blood, TW death, hurt/comfort.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Navigation

Flames lick at your feet, embers crackling as the fire eats away at your home. Animals flee, tails tucked away in fear of it getting singed, but you, with the unshed tears in your eyes, and bare feet running across the glade– you run towards the direction of the searing heat. Its source is a man-made building made of stone and glass, something you thought was invincible. But as you get closer and closer, its destruction becomes inevitable.

All things must come to an end, but you have to try to save him. Jason, the blue eyed menace you've come accustomed to. His smile lingers in your mind, laughter echoing in your ears. You can still remember the day you met him, bruised and battered, skin blooming into crimson and royal purple— a colour you've only seen in flowers. The meeting was bound by fate, like the vines crawling up your arms and around your torso; a fate etched into stone. And yet you once turned it away, turned him away because he wasn't supposed to be here in the dark woods all alone, moreso with a being such as you. You tried to scare him then, made yourself look like a powerful deity of the forest only to be met by a bout of boyish laughter.

“You look like a cheap knock-off of poison ivy!” He once said to you as he clutched his stomach from laughter.

You didn't know poison ivy was a laughing matter for humans when its touch could blossom into boils. It got you curious then, what else do humans think about the world around them? How do they think now that they ride metal horses and run on rubber feet? So you let him go back to your abode, sometimes tending to his wounds with herbs as he talks nonstop about his life outside.

Soon all the monthly visits became weekly, then turned into daily visits. You ask him questions about his kind, and he answers, mostly in a joking manner. You never offered him your food, knowing that he doesn't deserve the life to be shackled with you for hundreds of years. He deserves better. You've only kept him company, a friend for him to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone he would care for and in turn you'd care for him too. Until he disappeared for almost a year, you didn't try to find him then, you only hoped that he's alright, that he's still alive and keeping that smile on him. Then he comes back with less bruises on his skin, no blood splattered on his shirt. And his eyes shine with something anew. Hope. He tells you of a friend, someone who helped him just like you have. Jason seemed happy despite the cracked knuckles, and the ache in his muscles, he found his purpose. And you were happy for him, told him that he's always welcome in your forest if he ever got tired of his bat companion.

Jason was younger back then, toughened to survive the harsh realities of humankind. He still is. While you've survived a millennia from their brutality with a stiff lip, he fought back, ever a fighter, a defender. So here you are, running to fight for him, to defend him when no one came to save him.

You leave the thicket, skin warm, heat radiating off of your primordial skin. The vines snaking around your forearm tightens, a tell of your worries for the blue eyed boy.

The fire devours the stone building, its heat blasting at your face as you try to pass its flaming curtains. With a wave of your hand, you weave a wall of vines, its protruding thorns sharper than teeth. It shields your form from the flames that threaten to bite and nick at your skin. Entering the destruction, your eyes rapidly scan the place, hoping, wishing that you're not too late. You know he's here, but you barely feel his soul anymore. His warmth is tamped down by the embers kissing your flesh.

As you get further and further inside, the more danger you've put yourself in. You might be immortal, but you're not immune to the very thing that could single handedly destroy your home. The vines shield your form, but not enough as embers flicker too close to you. You're not afraid of dying, you've lived a thousand lifetimes, enough for someone to wish for an end. But as death knocks, not on your door but on Jason's limp body— you fear death.

“Jason!” Bolting towards him, you immediately kneel before him, hands patting away the flames eating away at him. Darkened smoke billows out from everywhere you see, and as you cup his cheek, he coughs weekly, eyes cracking open at the familiar sight of you. “Jason. I'm here, I'll get you out.” Before you could carry him, he grabs your wrist weakly.

“M–My mom.” He wheezes, soot covering his face. “Get h–her out first.”

You now notice another form in the building, and you realize why you haven't felt her presence until he told you.

“Jay, I'm sorry, she's gone.” You squeeze him once as tears flow down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail down his face. “I'll come get her out, but you come first.”

“B–But.” He coughs again, dry heaving on the concrete floor, eyes darting over to the limp body just a few feet away from him.

“I'll go back for her, I promise.” Despite his protest, you place your arm under his legs and back, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.

His face is marred by a beating, but under it, under all the caked blood and swollen eyes, he's still the same Jason you know. He's older now since you last saw him, but he's still a fighter.

He clings to you tiredly, fists holding onto a vine weaved across your chest. His breathing slows, eyes darting over to the simple chain of beads around your neck.

“You k–kept it.” It's getting harder for him to talk. You don't waste time sprinting away from the scene.

“Of course I did.” Wind and fire rushes at you, cheeks feeling like it's being boiled, and feet slowly burning away by the heated stone. “You made it.”

“You said—” he coughs, face tucked away on your bicep. “You said it was crudely made.”

“I lied, Jay.” Your eyes stings from the smoke, but you blink it away as you're close to the exit. “Stay awake for me.” Your voice doesn't tremble, but fear ebbs out of you in waves.

Jason manages to smile, patting the necklace weekly. “Liar.” He says, head lolling over your arm.

“Jason!” You wrap him closer, shielding him from a falling beam that's now blocking your path. “No!” Desperation ropes you in place, head craning down to look at his lifeless eyes.

“No.” You refuse for it to end this way.

With a burst of energy, you raise a fist, calling forth a tree to sprout from underneath the cracked concrete. Its trunk gives you enough leverage to make a new path above the flames, giving you a bridge. As you walk over its wooden body, you can hear it scream in agony.

You apologize as it gets snuffed out by the flames in time for you to push yourself and Jason out of the fiery abyss.

You don't waste time in returning to the thicket with Jason in tow, hoping that you have enough time to revive him. But as your knees give out from under you, plummeting down on the forest floor but away from the fanning flames. You realize that you can't keep your promise to him.

Cradling his head, you feel how cold he is under your touch. But there's still a spark in him, enough for you to do everything you can to yank him away from death's cold embrace.

Placing your head atop his own, you murmur words laced with an incantation— one you're forbidden to say. It could mean your destruction, but it could also give him life.

As you feel the air swirling around you, your power seeps out of you like sunrays. Light fights its way from underneath your ancient flesh, cracking you open, burning away the vines encompassing around you, and bathing Jason in its ethereal light.

It hurts more than flames, as if your form is being ripped away from your very being. With a muffled scream, your vision darkens as you fall forward and atop his chest.

Raindrops slowly drip from the above, raining down on both of your forms.

—

Jason wakes up to find you breathing above him, cheek pressed atop the burnt material of his suit. Your eyes are closed, fingers gripping at his arm like he's about to run away from you whilst you slept. His eyes are met with dappled sunlight, and his ears pick up a birdsong as the breeze kisses his cheek.

He blinks the heaviness behind his eyes away. There's no pain throbbing on his face and body, lungs breathing fine, even better than before. It's as if nothing ever happened to him. But when he feels your beating heart from above him, he knows something is amiss.

“Hey,” Jason sits up, hand cradling the back of your head as he tries to wake you up. “C’mon, wake up.”

You crack one eye open, nose scrunching up from the rude awakening. “Jay?”

He beams at you, chuckling at the drool running down your chin. “I've never seen you sleep.” His hands are warm and nice against your skin, so you indulge yourself by leaning against him. It seems that the simple act made him grin further. “Your heart's beating really fast, Grinch.”

You roll your eyes, wiping away at your chin. “You've never seen me sleep because fae people don't sleep.” Moving away and sitting up on your own, you narrow your eyes at his smiling face. “I told you not to call me that sour name.” Despite your words, you smile at him, happy that your incantation worked and he's alive. But there's a gnawing feeling at your chest, a worry that he's a figment of your grief stricken mind.

“Are you real?” You ask, voice small.

Jason takes your hand and places it atop his beating heart. “I'm real,” he notices that your arms are free of any vines binding you. He then takes the same hand and places it on your chest. “And you are too.”

Your eyes widen at the unfamiliar heavy feeling. “I'm—!”

Lunging at you, Jason embraces you on the forest floor as the early morning sun beams down on you. “Mortal.” You hug back, face hiding on the crook of his neck. He mirrors you, smiling against you. “And alive.”

“We both are.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

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zazter-den · 2 years ago

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Cat Bath

Minors Do Not Interact

(Edit)Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.

Synopsis- Barista!Reader comes home smelling like her new coworker Izuku, TigerHybrid!Bakugou decides a bath is in order.

Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Feline Anatomy, Choking, Light Knifeplay Claw play, Degradation.

Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Tiger!Bakugou, Dom!Bakugou, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Bath Play, Scentmarking, Creampie.

Word Count- 2K words.

With a low, guttural growl, Bakugou's tail began to sway and twitch behind him. The long, thick appendage moved with a powerful feline grace befitting a regal tiger hybrid.

As Bakugou's sharp gaze fell upon you, he took a step closer with a threatening aura enveloping him. His orange and black swirled ears were flat against his blonde locks. His chiseled jaw clenched tightly as his raging crimson eyes seem to pierce through your soul. There's no doubt that his presence alone could send chills down anyone's spine.

Bakugou's voice dripped with anger as he sneered "Who the fuck touched you, huh? Just let anyone lay their hands on you?" His tone filled with venomous jealousy, his possessiveness over you shining through every word.

His large hand reached out to grab your arm with an iron grip, his long black claws barely grazing your skin, for now. The intensity of his grip causes a a hitch in your breath, his dominance clear as day. "Tell me. now." Bakugou growled, his voice dangerously low. His sharp canines momentarily on display as a warning.

You swallowed hard. Oh, oh this wasn't going to be good.

His territorial jealousy seemed to consume him, and there's no doubt that he won't stop until he has an answer. The scent of pine and yuzu still lingered on your café shirt, a clear indication of the bunny hybrid coworker who had touched you.

"But... but Katsuki, Izuku didn't mean anything by it," you stammered, desperation creeping into your voice. The words coming out of your mouth sound rushed and nervous, "He grabbed my hands only to thank me for training him. It was a gesture of gratitude, nothing more."

Bakugou's grip tightened around your arm, the tip of his dark claws starting to puncture into your flesh, as he hears the name 'Izuku' leave your lips. His crimson eyes looked like smoldering embers, the mere thought of someone else touching you was enough to send a wave of fury surging through his veins. But some shitty prey hybrid holding your hand? A useless rabbit who you were already on first name basis with?

A wicked smirk curled Bakugou's lips as your punishment formed in his mind. With a sadistic glint in his eyes, he released your arm briefly, claws leaving glistening ruby dots. "If it didn't mean anythin', then I guess we'll just have to make sure ya don't reek of his stench," he said, a sinister undertone in his voice.

Not bothering to wait for a response, Bakugou snatched your hand and forcefully guided you toward the bathroom in the back of the apartment. His grip was forceful, almost bruising, as he shoved open the door and tugged you inside.

Bakugou's clothes hit the floor in a haphazard pile, revealing his intimidatingly sculpted physique. His muscular form was accentuated by the defined lines and lean muscles that traversed his body, a testament to his feral strength. His piercing ruby gaze, filled with a mix of raw desire and anger, was fixed your trembling form expectantly. Your clothes soon joined his on the cool tiled floor.

With his usual swagger, Bakugou stepped into the bathtub. His gaze fixated on you, filled with a mixture of hunger and simmering fury. The water settled over his toned body, causing droplets to glisten against his slightly tanned skin. His intimidating cock, stood fully erect and proud, its barbed girth a testament to his animalistic nature. He leaned back against the tub and spreads his legs, making his intentions clear.

With a wicked grin with far too much fang, Bakugou beckoned you towards him, his eyes daring some sort of defiance from you. His tail twitched suddenly, and you swear you almost jumped through the roof

"Get in the fuckin' tub" Bakugou growled, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone.

As you obediently drew closer to him, Bakugou's large clawed hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly. With a sudden, forceful motion, he pulled you onto his lap with a splash, causing the water to slosh around the tub and onto the bathroom floor.

Bakugou's grip tightened around your waist as he pulled you forcefully onto his lap, positioning your back against his chiseled chest. The feel of his muscular frame against your soft curves was both intimidating and exhilarating. You wondered if your heart beat was visible with the way it seemed to drum violently against your ribs.

With a punishing hold on your hips, Bakugou bullied his cock into you, thrusting in inch by thick inch. The sensation of being filled by his girthy length always brought a mix of pleasure and discomfort that never failed to elicit a gasp from your lips. The barbed ridges of his dick rippled against the walls of your dripping pussy, and you had to keep from instinctually clamp down on him. Black claws left angry indents on your skin as he started thrust sharply into you.

As the water sloshed and splashed, Bakugou's claws remained unyielding, his possessive hold a reminder of who you belong to. With every thrust, he watched with a predatory gaze as you writhe on his lap. The moans of pleasure being pulled from you echoing in the small space.

"I can't believe you allowed a fucking useless rabbit to touch you," Bakugou snarled in your ear, his voice filled with venom.

Bakugou growled against your neck, his hot breath tracing a path of need and possessiveness. He rubbed his scent onto your sensitive skin, his rugged scruff grazing against your jawline. With each thrust, Bakugou's movements gradually erased the lingering haze of Izuku's pine and yuzu scent from your body. His own dominant scent, a mix of warm cinnamon, earthy browned caramel, and the smoldering scent of embers, overwhelmed your senses. Seeping into your skin, claiming you as his own.

You were caught between the pleasure of Bakugou's relentless assault and your instinct to defend Izuku's friendliness. Still you tried to find your voice, no matter how shaky. "K-Katsuki," you begun to protest weakly, voice tinged with a mix of pleasure and desperation. "Izuku didn't mean any-"

In a black and orange flash, Bakugou's tail wrapped around your throat, his favorite way of shutting you up. The soft fur against your sensitive skin was a sharp contrast to the powerful grip it wielded, protests efficiently choked to a whimper.

As the pressure increased, lightly cutting off airflow, you gasped and whimpered. The minor decrease of oxygen intensified the sensations coursing through your body, making you moan in a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Each sound that escapes your lips only fed the fire burning within Bakugou, driving him to push you further, to exert his control over you completely.

"P-please" You managed to gasp out, your voice barely a whisper. The word hung in the air, almost begging for mercy, a plea to ease the intensity of his possessive onslaught. But deep down, you knew that it was a foolish request. Bakugou's selfish desires and his animalistic nature drive him, and mercy is seldom a part of that equation.

No. Forgiveness is not something Bakugou is known for. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hips, his claws freely dug into your skin, pricking the sensitive surface. His soft blonde hair, normally messy and tousled, now seemed to stand completely on end, giving him a truly feral appearance. With every wild thrust, his tail's grip on your throat tightened and slacked with the rhythm he found.

Bakugou spread his legs wider, seeking leverage as he relentlessly thrust upwards, setting a brutal pace that left you shuddering in pleasure. The sound of combined moans and the splashing of water filled the bathroom, creating an atmosphere of utter debauchery. Each forceful movement made you acutely aware of the prickly barbs that line Bakugou's endowed length, igniting intense sensations deep within your cunt. Under the violently swirling water, your toes curled against the slippery porcelain.

"Ya feel that, dumbass? That's me claiming you, marking you as mine." Bakugou's voice rasps in your ear, a mix of lust and dominance dripping from every word. “This is what you get, you pathetic little slut. You belong to me, and only me. Remember that." With his tail still wrapped firmly around your throat, His words punctuated by his forceful thrusts, each one drove deep with unforgiving vigor.

His hand snaked up your shaking thigh. His sharp obsidian claws grazed the delicate skin, leaving a trail of barely-there scratches in their wake, before reaching the apex he sought. He always knew how to handle you with terrifying precision. the pads of his fingers expertly circled your throbbing clit. The rough texture of his fingertips added a layer of friction that sent you keening.

Bakugou's touch is unapologetically rough, His fingers pinched and rubbed your clit mercilessly, combining pain and pleasure in a wicked synergy. Every grind, every pinch, brought you closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each press of his fingers, he thrusts into you with merciless ferocity.

Your body was a trembling mess in response to Bakugou's touch, the stimulation was sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel yourself beginning to succumb to the intensity of his ministrations, your walls tightening around his prickly cock. His thick length continued to impale your clenching hole, each thrust sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Your orgasm hit you like a force of nature. Your eyes widened, pupils dilated with a mix of pleasure, fear, and surrender. Your grip tightened on either side of the tub, your knuckles turning white with the overwhelming sensation. The combination of Bakugou's forceful barbed thrusts, the constriction of his tail around your throat, and the merciless stimulation of your clit sent you over the edge. Your moans escaped in muffled gasps and whimpers, partially silenced by the grip of Bakugou's tail. Waves of ecstasy rippled through you, cunt walls clamped down desperately around Bakugou's cock.

Feeling your walls convulsing around him, Bakugou responded with a bestial roar that echoed off the tiled walls. With one final, forceful thrust, he buried himself deep within your quivering pussy. His body tensed, claws lacerating thin red lines on your hips. He released his cum deep inside you with the final snap of his hips, a torrent that seemed to fill you to the brim. It felt like every inch of your being was flooded with the overwhelming heat and intensity of Bakugou's climax. It was hard to catch your breathe as your cunt milked the last of the feral feline's load.

The spicy notes of cinnamon, the rich sweetness of browned caramel, and the smoky hint of embers engulfed you, overpowering any last hints of citrus and pine needles. In this moment, there was only Bakugou, claiming your body and erasing any lingering trace of competition.

Bakugou slowly loosened his tail from around your sore throat, letting it slip away like a snake releasing its prey. The furry appendage, a mesmerizing blend of orange, black, and white, flicked with an air of smug satisfaction.

As the pressure around your throat eased, your exhausted body slumped against Bakugou's sculpted chest, breath still labored. Bakugou wrapped his strong arms possessively around your spent and shaking form. He pulled you closer to him, ensuring your bodies remain connected, bond unbroken in the cooling bath water. His tail swished to-and-fro with a mixture of contentment and territoriality.

With your body now marked by his scratches and filled with his seed, you'll carry his undeniable scent, making it clear to any hybrid foolish enough to come near that you belong to him and him alone.

"You're mine. No prey filth should dare lay a finger on you." Bakugou seethed into your ear, breathless voice a dangerous low rumble as you drift off from exhaustion. “The next time this 'Deku' touches what's mine, I'm putting him in the fuckin' ground.”

An original broke artist haiku:

Buy Me a Whiskey

Because You Want Me Tipsy

So I'll Write More Smut

#I got no excuse for this other than intrusive daydreams ¯\_(°∀°)_/¯#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #yandere x reader #minors dni #bnha smut #hybrid au #tw dubcon #tw choking #tw knifeplay #Zaz Drabbles #dividers by @CafeKitsune

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cupophrogs · 14 days ago

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DOUBT THOU THE STARS ARE FIRE

Prev || Next

#phrart #art #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime #poppy playtime doey #doey the doughman #poppy playtime drew #character design #crimson embers AU #poppy playtime crimson embers

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maryaandmorevna · 2 months ago

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what would dabi and y/n do on chrimtas if they were a relatively normal couple engaged to each other by Endeavour

okayyy, so I've been struggling with writing the next Plunders of War chapter (I hoped it would be done for PoW's anniversary buuut :( )

So, this Christmas short is my attempt at apology...you can see it as an unrelated Dabi x reader or the same reader/different AU where she's not Shouto's classmate.

🎄Embers Of Us 🎄

(Pro-Hero!Touya x reader)

tw: none really, touya's jealousy and teeth rotting fluff (yes, i warn you), English is not my first language

The invitation had come in a neat, crimson envelope - one of those outrageously expensive velvet papers. It bore the unmistakable insignia of the Todoroki family, perfectly pressed and unmarred.

Touya had stared at it for hours, turning it over in his hands, before mentioning the damn thing to you.

His father wanted you both to come to the Todoroki estate for Christmas. It had been years since Touya had set foot there, and he’d vowed never to return.

Yet, you'd made those eyes at him, begging him to consider that he'd met all of your extended family and you hadn't met any of his. Not his father, of course, you couldn't care less about a man who gave Touya such an awful, gaping hole where his heart was.

But his mother, surely you wish to see your mum, Tou -, his sister and brothers too.

So now here you were, standing on the doorstep of the house he once called home. You knew his father was a wealthy man, but the sheer size of this place put you into veritable shock.

You and Touya weren't struggling by any means, both rising young heroes, but this was a whole other level of opulence.

The grand door opened to reveal Shouto, poised and polished as ever. Touya gritted his teeth. Just fuckin' perfect. Shouto.

Father's masterpiece. His final and greatest work. The moment Shouto became a pro he soared through the ranks, landing at number two - just the place where his abominable father had been years ago. But Endeavor was now retired, busying himself with grandchildren he was allowed to see. Fuyumi's three. Natsuo, from what Touya had heard, had never let the old man meet his twins.

Shouto was number two for now, but one day -

Touya scowled.

“Touya. It’s good to see you,” Shouto said with a small nod, his eyes briefly flickering to you. “And you must be—”

“I know how to fuckin' introduce her,” Touya's interjection came out as a snarl. He immediately felt your hand slip into his - grounding him as an anchor would, to the sturdy ground despite the voracious sea lapping at his temples.

He cleared his throat, muttering, “This is y/N. My... girlfriend.”

Younger Todoroki's expression remained perfectly settled and you had to wonder was he a really accomplished actor or did he not perceive Touya's resentment.

The warm glow of the thousands of flickering Christmas lights and elaborate decorations did nothing to dispel the bile rising in Touya's guts.

Dinner was formal, filled with carefully chosen words and pointed silences.

Endeavor sat at the head of the table, his presence looming large even when he barely spoke.

Shouto, - ever the dutiful son, a fucking puppet -, filled the silence with updates about his work and the state of hero society.

Touya mostly pushed his food around the porcelain plate, ignoring the apologetic and unbearably tender gaze his mother was giving him, sneaking glances at you instead, as another fear, unknown to him until now, began to lap at his ribcage.

Fuyumi bustled in with a tray of cocktail drinks, and hugged you as if you knew each other for years.

"I'm so happy Touya has found you." She beamed.

You realized she fussed over everyone soon enough.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Touya,” she said softly, her eyes misty. “It’s been too long.”

After dessert, Endeavor excused himself - perhaps noticing the way his eldest's hatred still burned as brightly, and the conversation loosened slightly.

Shouto turned his attention to you, asking questions about your interests, your work, and how you and Touya had met.

Touya’s grip on his wine glass tightened and his quirk brimmed underneath his skin. He glared at the faint burn marks decorating his wrists and knuckles.

By the time you all moved to the sitting room, where the fireplace crackled invitingly, he was plummeting straight over the vertiginous edge. This was a mistake. His family had not even changed, and he found everything unpalatable. Natsuo was ignoring him, apparently hurt by Dabi's - his hero name - inability to keep in touch with his younger brother.

Touya peered at you perched on the plush sofa and went rigid.

You noticed. You always noticed.

When Shouto stepped out to take a call, you moved closer to Touya, gliding your delicate fingers over his forearm.

“Are you okay?” Your tone was as soft as sponge cake. Did you think he was fragile? Did you think his brother was so, so, so strong and-

He scoffed, turning his gaze to the fire. “Why wouldn’t I be? This is great. Shouto’s great. Everyone’s great.”

You must think so too, not some unknown number 135, but soon to be at the top.

“Touya...” You murmured, voice laced with concern.

He looked at you, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “You can say it, you know. He’s perfect. No. 2 hero. Endeavor’s pride and joy. Everything I’ll never be.”

Huh?

You had to blink several times to even follow his febrile line of thought.

When you did, your brows knitted together, your palms cupping his face, forcing him to gaze at you.

“Stop that. You’re not him. It doesn't matter. You’re you. And you’re everything to me.”

Touya swallowed hard, his throat seizing. “What if I’m not enough? What if you realize that he’s—”

“I won’t,” you interrupted firmly. “I barely even met him, don't tell me you're jealous of -hello-. How could you think that? I wouldn't change you for anyone. ”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he let himself lean into your heavenly touch.

It wasn't until you're both walking home, you cocooned in a warm coat and him in his navy turtleneck - he was always too hot for a coat, that Touya dared to continue your earlier tête-à-tête.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don’t want to be someone you look at and feel... disappointed."

You shook your head, your hand squeezing his.

"You won't lose me. Especially not over something that’s just in your head."

He closed his eyes again, the words falling through his muscles like a knife through butter. Touya shivered, feeling your presence fill the empty space between his ribs, where shadows gnawed and gnawed and gnawed.

"I find you enough, you know." You shrugged. "With those baby blues and your voice, and ah remember when you tried to flirt with me - that was hilarious, and you are very handsome, not to mention you are sometimes even funny-"

"Shut up." He grumbled, staring pointedly ahead, his cheeks flushing scarlet.

And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe it.

He was enough.

For you. For himself.

Fuck Shouto though, that little bugger won't meet you again.

#dabi #mha dabi #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x you #mha fanfic #dabi imagine #dabi fluff #touya x reader #christmas special #todoroki shoto #todoroki fuyumi #endeavor #keeping up with the todorokis

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pupsmailbox · 4 months ago

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AUTUMN ID PACK

NAMES︰ acer. acorn. acre. amber. apple. archer. arden. ash. asher. aspen. aster. auburn. august. augusta. augustus. autumn. autumna. autumnal. autumnelle. autumnessa. autumnette. autumni. autumnine. autumnus. bean. birch. blaire. bonfire. bramble. branch. briar. carmel. casper. cassia. cassiah. cedar. cerridwen. chai. chestnut. cider. cinna. clara. cocoa. cora. corn. cornucopia. cozy. crimson. crisp. crow. ellis. ember. equinox. eve. fall. fallelle. fallen. fallette. falline. fallon. faye. finn. flannel. foggy. forest. forrest. ginger. glenna. goldie. halloween. harper. harvest. harveste. harvester. hawk. hay. hazel. hollis. hunter. jora. juniper. kaziah. keziah. latte. leaf. libra. lief. lilith. linden. luna. maize. maple. marigold. marley. marlow. maze. melanie. mocha. moss. november. nutmeg. oak. oakley. october. opal. orchard. orla. pansy. pie. pine. piper. poe. pumpkin. raine. raven. redd. rory. roslyn. rowan. russet. ruston. sabrina. saffron. scarecrow. september. sienna. sorrel. sullivan. sylvia. tamsin. teresa. tessa. wesley. willow.

PRONOUNS︰ amber/amber. apple/apple. au/autumn. aug/august. august/august. autumn/autumn. branch/branch. brew/brew. cider/cider. cloud/cloud. co/cozy. cocoa/cocoa. cof/coffee. corn/corn. cot/cottage. cozy/cozy. crow/crow. drift/drift. drizzle/drizzle. fa/fall. fall/fall. flannel/flannel. glisten/glisten. glow/glow. gold/gold. hallo/ween. hallow/halloween. halloween/halloween. haze/haze. hazel/hazel. hug/hug. jacko/lantern. lea/leaf. leaf/leaf. maple/maple. maze/maze. mellow/mellow. moss/moss. oct/october. october/october. orange/orange. pie/pie. plush/plush. pump/kin. pump/pumpkin. pumpkin/pie. pumpkin/pumpkin. rain/rain. raven/raven. red/red. sca/scarf. sept/september. september/september. sip/sip. snug/snug. snuggle/snuggle. soft/soft. soothe/soothe. spice/spice. sweater/sweater. swirl/swirl. syrup/syrup. thanks/giving. tick/treat. treat/treat. trick/trick. tuck/tuck. wa/warm. warm/warm. whiff/whiff. whisk/whisk. wrap/wrap. yellow/yellow. 🌽. 🍁. 🍂. 🍄. 🍎. 🎃. 🕯️. 🥧. 🧣. 🧶.

#pupsmail︰id packs #id pack #npt #nput #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #pronoun suggestions #pronoun ideas #neopronouns #emojiself #nounself

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arjengelly · 6 months ago

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It’s an AU where Tammie (Tamera) & Tommy/Tom (Thomas) have a relationship similar to Bart and Lisa’s.

I want them to sound like Colleen O'Shaughnessey (Jazz) and David Kaufman (Danny).

They’re 16 year old twins, Tammie was born first.

Tammie is Dev’s babysitter and Tom is Hazel’s. Tammie decides to be a babysitter to fund her passion and Tom does it to upstage her or for extra cash 🍔.

Tom makes fun of Tammie for writing Crash Nebula vs Crimson Chin fanfiction. Tammie points out that he is obsessed with ghosts (Tom has an Ember McLain shirt 🔥 🎶 ).

Dev has a crush on Tammie. He tries to fund her writing career but she declines as she wants to earn everything the right way and “rub Tom’s nose in it.”

#the fairly oddparents #timmy turner #tammy turner #tommy turner #tootie turner #danny phantom #Danny Fenton #jazz fenton #david kaufman #a new wish #hazel wells #development devin dimmadome #ember mclain #crash nebula #the crimson chin #the simpsons #lisa simpson #bart simpson

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vermielian · 7 months ago

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Bands of Light - Krbk fantasy fanfic

Summary: CHAPTER 1 Kirishima Eijiro and Bakugo Katsuki. Princes from opposing kingdoms, known for their power, riches and influence. Both kingdoms were once in war and showered in blood. Although, it seems to have come to a halt as the King and Queen of the Bakugo dynasty and rulers of the Solarnelle kingdom: Mountains that hold the warm glow of embers, protecting against the world's cold, offered an arrangement with the Kirishima clan and their Queens, the rulers of the Keatha Empire: a kingdom shrouded in forests where every thorn bush guards a heart, the essence of life’s vitality and love. That arrangement being offered their only child and beloved son’s hand in marriage, to bring both kingdoms peace and prosperity. Although the problem is, our ashy blonde prince wasn’t very fond of the idea of being married to a person he has never met. Especially when this person is from the kingdom he was just fighting with every fibre of his body to destroy and make weep underneath his boot. But maybe this flamboyant redhead might change things.

CW: !All characters are adults! strong language, arranged marriage, angst, violence, descriptions of war, enemies to lovers, slowburn, fantasy au, krbk, character x character, character death, near death experiences, love rival (for Kirishima), MlM, complex family relationships, suggestive scenes (no nsfw or smut), fluff, kidnapping, the Kirishimas are Pinoy🇵🇭!!, ocs

May be added onto A03 if I find time

Chapter 1 - Unruly Rivals

To put it bluntly Bakugo wasn’t at all pleased to be at this ball. Normally, the hot headed prince wouldn’t care less about the parties and gatherings his parents put together. But this was different. And it made him sick.

Bakugo lets out a scoff as his crimson eyes scanned across the marble floor of the ballroom. Scanning like a bird of prey ready to pounce and tear its next meal to shreds with satisfaction and pride. But instead he just felt the sinking feeling in his stomach worsen. Which wasn’t like him at all. The mighty Bakugo Katsuki. The only heir to the throne and only child to Queen Bakugo Mitsuki and King Bakugo Masaru. The crowned prince of Solarnelle, the one who was gifted the power of explosion magics from the gods above, the one who was always followed by a flocks of young suitors eager to get a single glance from him, the one who’s beauty shone throughout his kingdom like the sun itself, was being placed in an arranged marriage. But not just any arranged marriage. He was being married to the eldest son of the Keatha empire and one of many children from the kirishima clan: Prince Kirishima Eijiro. The prince whose family had been rumoured to have close connections to giant fire breathing beasts and who could wipe out a whole battalion of Solarnelle soldiers with his fists and sword alone. The beast of a man with fiery red hair and eyes of bright vermillion stones. He was the one he was going to marry.

But Bakugo never spited his parents for this. At least, he tried to.

Their two kingdoms have been at war for almost 2 years now, and it was putting both sides under economic pressure and strain. Not to mention the bloodshed that came from the war, which led to Bakugo further sheltering himself and forming this hard shell around himself. So Bakugo understood why he had to do this. To marry someone he doesn’t love. He didn’t want the Kingdom, his people, his family to suffer anymore than they alreayd have. Both kingdoms have suffered great losses during the 2 years of war, so he knew it was only right he performed his duty.

Although, Bakugo always thought he would able to find that someone with his own tuition. Without needing to be forced for the kingdom’s sake, and without having his whole world on his shoulders, which was already crumbling as he walked.

But while Bakugo was having his sulk session, an iconic flamboyant redhead made his way through the ballroom doors, his attire looking more exotic and dare he might say barbaric than anything else in the ballroom. This would then cause noble men and servants alike to pause and look in awe at the new sense of style they were now exposed to.

The redhead prince was draped in a fine wine red robe which complimented his hair which was styled with obsidian headgear that made tuffs of his hair stick out like devil horns. But the most striking thing about his outfit was the large fur collared cape he wore that framed his shirtless chest. The said fur that adorned his neck looking like a beast that he had skinned to show off his power. Although the Kirishima son didn’t seem to be bothered by the looks and stares of disgust and discomfort as he kept walking with the rest of his immediate family right beside him, all in their own breath taking native clothing style and each of his stunning mothers by his side as the King and Queen of Solarnelle rushed to greet them.

Hesitantly, the young prince soon made his way down the red carpet draped steps as his soft hand grazed against the cold, gold hand rail which was engraved with beautiful designs. His heavy crimson cape adorned with golden accents and a thick fur collar dragged and dropped against each step as he descended. His obsidian coloured military general’s uniform going perfectly with the combinations of golds and reds. His heavy leathered boots making a hard thudding sound every step he took. This lead to everyone’s eyes to fall on him. A low buz coming from the servants and nobles that were whispering to each other. Bakugo’s strong figure and striking beauty always left them shocked.

As soon as Bakugo reached the ballroom floor and made his way through the crowds of people to the Kirishimas. And boy did his feel his palms warm up. He never felt so angry, so annoyed, so scared to meet someone that was obviously below him in every way.

“Ah! Katsuki my dear!” His mothers sickly sweet voice called out to him which immediately made his eyes snap to her matching set of crimson red eyes, “I’m sure you know by now but, this is my son, Prince Bakugo Katsuki.”she said behind gritted teeth and a painful strained smile as he grip held tightly on to Bakugo’s shoulder.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard about the young prince long before the war even began! You have quite the name for yourself.” Queen Kirishima Taeka commented in her strong but gentle sounding voice, a light chuckle leaving her as she crossed her arms around her chest. He dark hair styled in a black bun, a few braids found here and there decorated with handmade beads and golden head pieces which went perfectly with her ruby eyes which Katsuki noticed all the Kirishima children had.

Katsuki just nodded his head firmly, choosing not to say anything in case he slipped up and said something he would regret, his eyes soon hovering towards Queen’s son. He was surprisingly…tall? Katsuki had to admit, the man looked much smaller from a distance, but now that he has a better look of him, Kirishima Eijiro was a beast. Literally. Although not monstrously tall, he still towered over Katsuki and he didn’t like that one bit as it left a sour taste in his mouth.

“We are so happy to have this change to arrange something you my lights, as you both know very well our kingdoms have not been doing well due to this war.” Kirishima’s other mother and other Queen of Keatha, Kirishima Yua, voiced out, her voice notably softer as she spoke. Her honeycomb eyes standing out from the sea of red as her curly red hair was left down but as equally beautiful and brightly styled as her lover.

“Indeed, I do hope this arrangement goes well for all of our sakes.” Queen Mitsuki smiled, her husband remaining quietly beside he throughout the whole exchange, “Oh! I almost forgot but as this arrangement may take a while I’ve prepared a manor near by for your…” Mitsuki continued before pausing, almost overwhelmed by the amount of girl they had, exactly 7 girls, “Family…heh..oh! And please don’t be afraid to ask questions as well. I do understand that some of our ways of doing things are different to yours.” She then continued before quickly changing the topic to not sound rude in front of the Queens.

“Anyways! How about we all enjoy this ball in celebration to new beginnings!” King Masaru then said, this being the first time he has spoke since he greeted and introduced himself, his hands clasped together as a soft smile grew on his face as all of their eyes moved to him. Poor man. Katsuki huffed in agreement, he didn’t want to be here longer than he had to.

“Oh! And one more thing I forgot to mention! I’m sorry dear,” Mitsuki then added before turning to her husband hand held his hand softly, genuinely meaning what she was saying towards him, “But if it’s alright with you, my Queens, but Prince Eijiro will be staying here with us, as I feel like this would help them get to know each other, no?”.

What?

“That’s a great idea actually!” Queen Yua voiced out in genuine agreement and happiness, a bright smile appearing on her porcelain face as she looked up to her wife who expressed the same agreement. “I don’t think that will be a problem, right Eijiro?” Taeka said before looking towards her only son, who still hasn’t uttered a word since he got here.

“No mother, I’ll make you proud.” He said, his voice almost holding that same flare and sparky breath as Taeka but still as smooth as honey. Although Katsuki, as much as he wanted to stay neutral about the whole situation, was almost bubbling with anger.

He wasn’t informed that the former enemy was staying, with HIM and HIS FAMILY. It was honestly taking everything in his power to not pounce as the tall redheaded man and choke him out on the cold ballroom floor.

The rest of the conversation continued on I’m a blur and swiftly came to an end while Katsuki processed everything, his eyes slightly wide in shock as he tried to hide his emotions.

“Indeed!…..hahaha!……….how about……….Katsuki?”

“…”

“Katsuki…?”

“…”

“My prince?”

“…”

“Prince Katsuki?” Said prince suddenly came out of his trance as he looked around at the people around him, his eyes coming in contact with his mothers first, her face carrying concern, leaking with annoyance concealed with a worried smile and a innocent head tilt. Although her eyes were carrying an ever growing flame and sharp anger, while his father on the other hand looked nothing but concerned for his son, his hands slightly reached out towards him as his eyes slowly spoke a thousand words. The Kirishimas on the other hand seemingly confused and somewhat put off by the blonde prince’s attitude.

“Are you okay, My prince?” Eijiro’s voice asked lowly in concern, making Katsuki at the horned man. His face making eye to ‘eye’ contact with Eijiro’s strong, scared, and slightly painted chest. This made his face bloom into all sorts of reds as he flinched backwards, looking up as well as he tried to process a response.

“I’m fine…you don’t have to worry about me.” He grumbled out as he made distance between them, the same sour taste returning to his mouth as he shot a glare towards the barbaric prince.

“Hah…that’s good then ,my dear, but as I was saying Katsuki,” his mother then said, her voice sounding more aggressive than before, “How about you take some time here to get know Prince Eijiro? You might find something in common.” She hummed with a sickly sweet smile.

Well, there was nothing Katsuki could do but say yes. So with that the blonde prince nodded his head with a short and sweet bow to the monarchs as he side eyed his soon to be husband.

“Good! Just come find us if you need anything!” She reminded as Katsuki nodded, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes and grunting from annoyance. But once Queens and King waved the two princes off and Bakugo turned around, a harsh scowl spread across his beautiful features as his hands clenched in anger. Small explosions coming from his closed palms.

Katsuki only took a couple steps away from their parents before stopping completely near a large window draped in red silk curtains, bunched together, neatly, at the ends with a golden rope. The fiery redhead following closely as he stood awkwardly next to him.

Kirishima let out a sigh through his nose as a bright but dopey smile grew on his face. His cherry coloured eyes looking outside the window as he tried to think of something to say. Both men sitting in an uncomfortable silence.

“Look…I know that this isn’t the best of situations to be in…” Kirishima addressed with a soft smile as he looked over to Bakugo who still had a strong scowl on his face, his eyes looking anywhere but Kirishima’s. But either way the man continued, “But we have to do this for our Kingdo-“

“Don’t you think I know that?” Bakugo spat out, a raspy anger in his voice as his striking eyes finally looked up to Kirishima’s. “This is nothing more than an obligation so stop acting all sappy and sweet with me. I know what you can do.”

Kirishima was taken aback, the prince was so composed around his parents. But then again, he and his mother’s noticed the lighting grip she hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, almost how a wolf trainer back in Keatha would hold the leash of the pups. And to be honest, he didn’t know what to say.

“Look…I’ll try not to be rude to you in any way, because as you said, our kingdoms need this marriage. But don’t expect me to be outwardly affectionate are talkative with you or anything like that crap.” Bakugo then added as he sucked his teeth, his clenched fists letting off small explosions yet again, his spiky blonde hair sweeping over his eyes as he turned away from the muscular man, who was currently speechless.

“Sure thing…” Kirishima said, his voice cracking slightly as he felt his face heat up. Normally he wouldn’t tolerate any behaviour like this but something about him, about Bakugo Katsuki, felt right.

“Uh…do you want a drink..?” The shirtless prince then asked, causing Bakugo to slowly turn his head in annoyance and shock. His jaw clenched as he bit on his tongue, trying to find the words.

“What of don’t act sappy with me do you not get, shitty hair?” Bakugo asked, glaring daggers at the poor prince who only wanted to get him a drink.

Kirishima only let out a short laugh at the comment about his hair, causing Bakugo’s gaze to soften, “heh, sorry, but the question still stands, my prince.” Kirishima said as a sharp toothy smile grew on his face. This feature of Kirishima caught the shorter prince’s attention, never in his life seeing someone with such a unique smile. If anyone in Solarnelle had a teeth like those they’d surely be shunned and chased out of the kingdom, being seen as a demon or sorts. This led to Bakugo further inspecting the prince’s appearance, going from the most noticeable attributes to the least noticeable ones like how the man’s skin was beautifully tanned and sun kissed and the natural rosey colour in the man’s cheeks, or the sharp but elegant eyelashes he had that further enhanced his red eyes or the small scar that rested on Kirishima’s right eye.

“Fine..”

“Haha! Cool!” Kirishima then said, his smile not leaving his face as he went to get their drinks, his noble cloak dragging across the floor, clearly carrying some weight with it.

To say the least, Bakugo was shocked. The prince of the Keatha Empire was nothing like he expected. This is going to be hard.

———

M.LIST | ← Previous Chapter ══ Next Chapter →

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rainforestakiie · 4 months ago

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AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Master and Pet~

i really love this one. it is so cute. it is inspired by the wonderful art of breedtheseed or @sir-tater-of-the-tot. this is an cult of the lamb small au but adam's another lamb ~

@adamsappleweek

In a world cloaked in shadows, a dark tale unfurled, whispered on the wind like a haunting melody. The gentle lambs, once symbols of innocence, were now hunted mercilessly. Rumors slithered through the air like smoke, speaking of a creature born from the depths of despair—a lamb of hell, brandishing hellfire, with blood-red eyes that glowed like embers in the night. Its demonic hisses and growls sent shivers down the spines of all who dared to listen. The bishops and their lords, fearful of this unholy apparition, dispatched their teams, relentless in their pursuit to capture the lamb and drag it back for sacrifice.

Amidst this turmoil, young Adam was born into a world of darkness. His parents, upon seeing him for the first time, were seized by a chilling shock. Tiny and fragile, he was wrapped in a shroud of black wool, his large green eyes gleaming with an unsettling curiosity. In a world where fear ruled, they knew that the bishops’ gaze could fall upon him at any moment. Desperate to shield their child from the impending doom, they hid him away, their hearts heavy with dread. When he learned to walk, they abandoned him, urging him to remain concealed, whispering warnings as they faded into the shadows.

Yet, even as they left, a part of Adam felt a bittersweet relief. It was during one of his solitary moments, nestled within the dense expanse of a field of vibrant red camellias, that he overheard a small band of hunters trudging through the thick blossoms. Adam dropped low, his tiny form melding effortlessly into the ground, his midnight-black wool a perfect disguise against the earth. As the hunters spoke, their voices trembled with a mixture of fear and fascination. They mentioned a white-as-snow lamb, a creature that had already slain one bishop, driving the remaining three into a frenzy of desperation.

Joy surged within Adam, nearly bringing him to tears. He wasn’t the lamb of prophecy; he was just another forgotten soul among many, a mere shadow in a world of light. And in that thought, he found solace. He preferred being a nobody, away from the wrath of the bishops.

Once the hunters’ voices faded into the distance, Adam lifted his head, shaking his fluffy black ears, which flopped like those of a bunny, framing his gentle face. He was peculiar in his appearance, but he cherished this uniqueness. Clad in a simple black poncho, he found comfort in its familiarity, knowing it cloaked him from prying eyes.

The field of camellias was his sanctuary, a realm where he could lose himself in the sea of crimson blooms that swayed gently in the breeze. Each blossom was a reminder of life, vibrant and resilient, yet each held a deeper secret. Adam had learned to use the petals for healing, crafting poultices from their velvety softness to mend his wounds and soothe his scrapes. The rich scent enveloped him like a protective embrace, grounding him in his solitude.

In his endless days among the flowers, Adam revelled in the beauty of their presence. He fashioned camellia crowns to adorn his head, their brilliant red a stark contrast against his dark wool, creating a sense of belonging in a world that sought to cast him out. He wove camellia chains, delicate strands that danced around his small form, each bloom a testament to his fleeting existence. They became his companions, vibrant reminders of a world filled with colour amidst the grim shadows lurking just beyond the field’s edges.

In this sanctuary of red, Adam felt an unspoken bond with the blossoms. When the wind rustled through the tall stems, he believed they whispered secrets meant only for him, tales of hope and despair, of love and loss. It was here, amongst the camellia fields, that he felt truly alive hidden from the world’s cruelty, cradled in the gentle embrace of nature’s beauty.

Yet, as the sun dipped low, casting elongated shadows across the field, an unsettling tension lingered in the air. The distant echoes of the hunters reminded Adam of the ever-looming threat that hung over him like a storm cloud. Each rustle in the underbrush sent his heart racing, but he clung to the hope that perhaps he would remain unnoticed, just another shadow in a world desperate to forget him.

And so, he waited, nestled among the blossoms, longing for the day when he could emerge from the shadows, not as the hunted, but as something greater, a soul who could finally claim his place in the world, beyond the reach of those who sought to extinguish his light.

Adam sighed deeply, stretching his stubby legs out with a small, satisfied grunt. For a lamb, he was quite short, it was true—but he was thickly built, with a round, fluffy body that made him look like a black puffball that had rolled off the edge of midnight itself. Still, despite his bulk, Adam had mastered the art of hiding. He rose to his full, modest height, stretching his arms out as he let the warm summer breeze of Darkwood wash over him, stirring the dense field of red camellias. Their sweet, heady fragrance filled the air, a scent that Adam loved so dearly it felt like home.

A low chuckle escaped him as he adjusted his black cloak, lined carefully with camellias he’d picked and tied himself. One especially full blossom sat proudly on his chest, fastened by a thick red ribbon tied into a neat bow at the back of his neck. With the cloak pulled around his head, Adam looked more like a camellia bush than a lamb, which he counted on in moments when stealth was essential.

With light steps, he wandered through the camellia field, his gaze soft as he inspected each bloom, noting which were in full, brilliant health and which needed a bit of his gentle care. He knew this field like the back of his hoof and tended to it as though it were a beloved friend, nurturing the blossoms and making sure they grew strong and tall. Adam felt like he belonged here, hidden away among the rich red blooms.

But then, just as he knelt down to admire a particularly beautiful flower, the sharp sound of metal clashing on metal cut through the field, causing him to jump. He whirled in the direction the hunters had gone, his heart pounding, and held his small hooves close to his chest. The noise was chaotic, each clang and shout hinting at a fierce struggle. Adam rocked on his hooves, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, wondering if he should sink back into the blossoms and wait for it all to pass. But then, as quickly as it began, the noise ceased. Silence fell, cold and unsettling, as though the whole forest had held its breath.

A painful whimper echoed through the stillness, faint but filled with such raw anguish that it made Adam shiver. He tried to ignore it, willing himself to focus on the flowers, but each laboured groan tugged at his heart, tearing his resolve. He knew he should hide, knew he was safer nestled in his field of red, but something in the sound wouldn’t let him rest. Taking a shaky breath, he steeled himself and crept toward the direction of the sounds.

He reached the edge of the camellia field, hugging the rough bark of a Darkwood tree as he peeked around it. His breath caught in his throat at the scene before him: the area looked like a battlefield, with stones scattered, grass slashed to pieces, and broken branches littered everywhere. Dust hung in the air, thick and grim, marking where the hunters had fallen. Adam’s heart pounded, realizing that the strange piles of dust were all that remained of them.

But in the center of the chaos stood a figure that stole his breath entirely. A small, snow-white lamb struggled to stand, his coat as pure as untouched snow, yet stained with grime and flecks of red. The lamb wore a striking red cloak, with a tiny bell on his chest that jingled softly as he tried to find his balance. Adam’s eyes went wide. Could this be the lamb of prophecy? The one said to wield flames and bring ruin to the bishops? Had this white lamb really defeated all those hunters on his own?

Adam’s heart leapt as he watched the lamb stumble forward, hooves shaking before he collapsed to his knees, utterly spent. With a final, exhausted sigh, he sank to the ground, too weak to rise again. Adam glanced around, fear flashing in his emerald eyes. He knew he should run back, escape to the safety of the camellias and let this lamb—prophecy or not—fade away. But just as he took a step to retreat, he froze at the sound of a distant hiss, one that sent chills down his spine. Chaser worms, drawn by the scent of battle, slithered into the area, their dark, coiling forms advancing hungrily toward the fallen lamb.

Adam clenched his jaw, his wool paling with terror. He hated the creatures of Darkwood, and the chaser worms were especially dreadful, with their long bodies and keen, unerring sense of smell. His eyes darted anxiously around, hoping the white lamb would rise and flee. But the lamb didn’t stir, lying prone in the middle of the carnage, a fragile figure in a sea of violence.

Another whimper broke the air, soft and pained, and Adam’s resolve crumbled. He couldn’t leave him. Drawing in a deep breath, he gathered his courage, bolting forward in a swift dash across the torn battlefield. He slid to the lamb’s side, flaring his cloak outward to mask them both in a sea of red. Huddling close, he pressed himself against the white lamb, praying the chaser worms would mistake them for a harmless patch of camellias.

Adam held his breath as one of the worms approached, its snout only inches from his face. He bit down his fear as it sniffed curiously at the red camellia he’d carefully tied by his cheek. A sneeze exploded from the worm, and it recoiled, twisting back to slink away with the others as they retreated, disappointed by the lack of fresh prey.

Only when the last worm disappeared into the depths of Darkwood did Adam allow himself to breathe. He flung the cloak back, his heart racing as he turned to inspect the lamb at his side. His stomach dropped when he finally took in the lamb’s condition. The poor creature’s face was swollen, smeared with blood, his once-bright coat marred with scratches and bruises. Adam pressed a hoof to his mouth, stifling a gasp.

“Oh… oh no,” he murmured, glancing desperately toward the camellia field. The lamb was in bad shape, barely clinging to consciousness, and if he didn’t tend to him soon, he wouldn’t last the hour.

With a steely determination, Adam shuffled around, sliding his hooves under the lamb’s arms to drag him back toward the safety of the flowers. He moved as quickly as his small frame allowed, pulling the lamb through the tangle of blossoms until they were nestled in the heart of the camellia field. Surrounded by his beloved blooms, Adam felt a surge of comfort.

Adam’s hooves trembled as he gently placed a cluster of freshly plucked camellia blossoms by the injured lamb’s side. He’d always known the flowers held powerful healing properties, and he worked with careful reverence, feeling the softness of each petal as he pressed them lightly to the lamb’s wounds. Next, he unrolled one of his handmade bandages, wrapping it snugly around the lamb’s head, securing it with a knot at the nape of his neck. Adam couldn’t help but pause when he noticed the faint blush of pink and red across the lamb’s cheeks. At first, he thought it might be from bruising, but when he brushed the soft wool, he realized that the hues were natural, an enchanting blend unique to the lamb.

“Whoa…” he murmured under his breath, eyes wide with wonder.

Once the bandages were in place and the flowers had been arranged to maximize their healing power, Adam sat back, a weight settling on him as he stared at the slumbering lamb. Now, it was just a matter of time—if this was indeed the prophesied lamb, he would need all his strength to pull through.

As Adam watched him, curiosity bloomed within him. Could this truly be the lamb from the prophecy, the one powerful enough to have defeated Bishop Leshy? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. To take down an entire team of hunters and stand against the bishops was something only legends spoke of. Adam tilted his head thoughtfully; this lamb must possess extraordinary strength. What a sight that must’ve been.

Eventually, the sky darkened, and the moon rose high, casting its silver glow over the red camellia field. Exhausted from the day’s harrowing events, Adam dozed off, his chin nestled against his black wool as he drifted into a fitful sleep, completely unaware of the white lamb beginning to stir beside him.

The injured lamb’s bright blue eyes fluttered open, wincing at the faint ache that throbbed through his body. He took a shaky breath, his gaze moving to the bandages covering his wounds and the gentle arrangement of camellias placed thoughtfully around him. A sense of surprise washed over him, and he glanced around the moonlit field, his eyes soon landing on the figure of a small, black lamb curled up nearby.

His breath caught. Another lamb.

Another one of his kind, alive, after he’d long believed himself to be the last. The bishops had killed so many, wiped out his entire flock, leaving him to wander in solitude. He thought he was destined to walk this path alone, the last of his kin. Yet here, in this field of red, a single dark lamb lay sleeping, unafraid and blissfully unaware of his stare.

A strange warmth bloomed in the white lamb’s chest, a sensation he hadn’t felt in so long—hope, and perhaps even a flicker of joy. The loneliness that had gnawed at him, the weight of knowing his kin were gone, softened, if only for a moment. He continued to watch Adam, his glassy blue eyes wide and captivated, the feeling of connection washing over him like a cool breeze.

The lamb reached out instinctively, his hoof brushing lightly against the camellia blossoms that Adam had so carefully arranged. A quiet sense of gratitude filled him.

Adam’s stomach grumbled, the noise cutting through the dawn’s quiet, making him sigh and stretch his legs as the memory of the injured lamb returned. He quickly turned to check on him but found only the gentle blooms of camellias where the white lamb had been. Disappointment weighed heavily in his chest. Had the lamb not made it through the night? Had he done something wrong with the flowers, or missed a wound?

Just then, a small pile of glistening berries fell next to him, startling him as he squealed and jumped back. He looked up to find the white lamb standing above him, grinning with a mouth full of sharp, glinting teeth.

“Hi!” the lamb chimed, his voice bright and lively. “Thank you so much for helping me last night! I really appreciate it!”

Adam blinked, stunned, and nodded as bewilderment rolled over him. The lamb’s grin widened as his gaze dropped to Adam’s rumbling stomach. “You must be hungry! Go ahead; I gathered these berries just for you as a thank you!”

Unsure, Adam glanced up at the lamb, then back at the berries. The lamb nodded encouragingly, gesturing for him to eat. Adam hesitantly took a berry, biting into it slowly, savoring the sweetness as his hunger took over. The white lamb sat down beside him, eagerly munching on the berries, his cheerful eyes catching Adam’s each time he looked over, a smile never leaving his face.

“Um…” Adam mumbled after a while, nervously wiping his hooves on his wool and climbing to his feet, shuffling back. “Thanks for breakfast, um, I…”

The white lamb leapt to his feet too, matching Adam’s movement. “My name is Lucifer!”

“Oh, um…” Adam’s voice trailed off, his eyes meeting Lucifer’s bright blue ones. “My name is Adam.”

“Adam!” Lucifer repeated, grinning as though savoring the sound. “Are you alone out here, Adam? I’ve never seen another lamb before! I thought I was the only one left.”

Adam tried to edge back toward the carnation field, but Lucifer’s stream of questions kept him rooted. “Why were you out here? Have you always lived in Darkwood? How did you know how to use the camellias?”

Adam shuffled his hooves uncomfortably, his gaze darting between the camellias and the path back to his field. “Look, um… Is there something you want from me? I don’t have anything worth much, only some camellias… if they even count.”

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with a strange, excited glint as he took a step forward, gripping Adam’s hooves. “Yes! That’s exactly what I want!”

Adam frowned, confused. “My… camellias?”

Lucifer nodded, though he seemed to struggle to find the words. “Well, yes! Or, well, not just the flowers… you! Your skills!”

Adam’s brows knit together as he stared blankly at Lucifer, who puffed out his cheeks in frustration, clearly anxious.

“I need your help,” Lucifer blurted out. “I can’t seem to figure out how to use the camellias to save my followers. They’re sick, and they’re only getting worse. I came here to gather more camellias, but I found you instead! This must mean something!”

Adam shifted, unease bubbling within him as he watched Lucifer’s pleading eyes. He tried to step back, his instincts telling him to slip away to the safety of his flowers. But Lucifer clasped his hooves tighter, his bright blue eyes large and glistening, practically begging him.

“Please, Adam,” Lucifer murmured, his voice softening. “My cult needs help, and I don’t know how to save them. I don’t have anyone else who can.”

Adam’s resistance wavered as he took in the lamb’s desperate expression. After a long pause, he finally sighed. “Alright… I’ll help you.”

Lucifer’s face split into a wide grin, lighting up with gratitude. “You will?! Thank you so much! Hold onto me, okay?”

“W-wait,” Adam stammered as the ground beneath them began to glow with an eerie red light. “What’s going on?”

Lucifer wrapped his hooves tightly around Adam’s middle, his gaze warm as he looked up. “I had to hide my cult deep, far from the bishops’ sight! Hang on—this is the fastest way back!”

Before Adam could react, red and black light erupted around them, bathing the Darkwood in a glow that pulsed and shimmered. The world blurred, twisting around him as his heart raced, leaving him breathless, with only Lucifer’s grip grounding him.

The world settled, and Adam found himself standing in the middle of an eerie clearing, the cult’s sanctuary. Scattered remnants of banners and humble offerings marked the area, faded and worn, surrounded by twisted trees that swayed with ghostly whispers. In the centre stood a carved lamb statue, red paint—or was it something else?—dripping down its stone face. The place felt hollow, its silence thick and foreboding, and Adam felt his heart sink. Only a few figures were present, hunched over on tattered sleeping bags made from dried leaves and grass, each one pale and barely able to move. He could see their fur matted, breathing laboured, each one struggling as though even that were a burden.

Adam gasped as Lucifer spun him around, his face etched with worry. “Can you help them?” he asked, looking up at Adam with desperate, pleading eyes.

Adam glanced at the sick cult members, then back at Lucifer, uncertainty knitting his brows. “I—I don’t know. But… I can try.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up with hope, and he quickly grabbed Adam’s hooves, leading him to the frail figures who lay groaning softly. Lucifer eagerly unpacked the camellias he’d gathered, petals scattering as he handed them to Adam. “What else do you need?” he asked, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, Adam examined the camellias, their rich red colour vibrant even in the dreary surroundings. He’d worked with them countless times, but never on creatures this sick.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, reaching for one of his pouches. “I’ll need to make a paste to cool their fevers.”

With practiced movements, Adam plucked petals and ground them between his hooves, adding water from a small bowl Lucifer had fetched, until a thick, fragrant paste began to form. He worked quickly, blending the camellias until he had enough, and then turned to the nearest sick creature, a shivering rabbit whose fur clung to her skin. Gently, he smoothed the cooling camellia paste across her forehead, then onto the others, one by one, careful with every stroke of his hoof.

“Keep the water coming,” Adam murmured, and Lucifer hurried to refill the bowl, his blue eyes never leaving Adam’s face as he worked.

Lucifer’s followers moaned as the cooling paste soothed their fevered brows. Adam checked each of their breathing, applying more of the camellia paste wherever he found hot, swollen patches. The herbs alone might not be enough, he knew, but they could ease the pain and buy the followers precious time. Every now and then, he’d glance at Lucifer, who did as he was told without question, his usual lively nature replaced by a quiet, focused resolve.

Time passed in a blur, the two of them moving from one follower to the next, changing the compresses and keeping the camellia paste fresh, making sure each of them had sips of water to drink. Finally, as the last bandage was set, Adam slumped back against the lamb statue in the middle, his hooves aching from all the kneeling and mixing. He let out a heavy breath, stretching his tired legs with a small wince.

“That’s all I can do,” he said, his voice weary but hopeful. “It’s up to them now if they want to survive.”

Lucifer sank down beside him, a worried hum slipping from his lips as he gazed at his followers, each face etched with gratitude. Adam noticed the tender way Lucifer looked at them, his eyes filled with genuine care and a fierce protectiveness that belied his often carefree, mischievous demeanour.

“You really care for them, don’t you?” Adam murmured, glancing at Lucifer from the corner of his eye.

Lucifer nodded, his expression softening. “They’re all I have. And now… I have you, too.”

“Oh… um…” Adam stammered, feeling a warmth creep up his cheeks. He wasn’t used to such direct attention, and Lucifer’s bright, pleading eyes made his heart skip in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

“You will stay, won’t you?” Lucifer asked, voice barely above a whisper, his wide blue eyes gleaming with a softness that made Adam look away.

“Please say you’ll stay.” There was a quiet desperation in his tone, a vulnerability Adam hadn’t seen in the little lamb before.

Adam fumbled with the edge of his cloak, smoothing the petals of the camellia flowers stitched along the hem.

“I—I don’t know… I mean, this isn’t really my place,” he mumbled, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. His life was simple, quiet, spent among his beloved camellias, and he couldn’t imagine fitting into something as foreign as Lucifer’s cult.

Lucifer scooted closer, his hooves reaching out to rest gently on Adam’s.

“You’re exactly what we need, Adam,” he said, his voice filled with earnest warmth.

“We’re a small family here, but we’re all that’s left of… well, us.” He gestured to the sparse gathering of sick followers, who now lay resting peacefully. “They need you. And… I need you.”

Adam’s heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions churning inside him. He’d never been needed, not really. He’d lived in the shadows, hidden among the tall flowers, content to let the world pass by. But here, with Lucifer’s hopeful gaze fixed on him, the weight of being truly seen and wanted settled on him like a warm, heavy blanket.

“I… I suppose I could stay a little while,” he murmured, finally looking up to meet Lucifer’s eyes. “Just until everyone’s healed.”

Lucifer’s face lit up with pure joy, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cheered, throwing his hooves around Adam in a tight hug. “You won’t regret this, I promise! I’ll make sure of it!”

Adam’s initial shock melted, and he found himself smiling shyly as he returned the hug, his woolly cheek brushing against Lucifer’s soft fur. For the first time, he felt something in his heart that he hadn’t felt before—a quiet sense of belonging.

Adam’s quiet agreement to “a little while” had turned into something far more permanent without him even noticing. As the seasons shifted, his initial intentions to leave faded, wrapped up in the pulse of the cult’s vibrant life. Lucifer may have been the cult leader, the one who called the shots, but he listened to Adam’s every suggestion, even turning to him for advice.

The first big project Adam suggested was setting up farmland.

“If you plant the berry seeds you collect from Darkwood, you can have a steady source of food,” he had explained, a bit hesitant. “And… well, camellia seeds, too. You’d always have a supply for healing.”

Lucifer’s eyes had sparkled with interest at the idea, nodding intently, and then he’d disappeared for an entire week. When he returned, he came back with hundreds of different seeds, most of which Adam had never seen before. Adam stared in amazement, organizing them into tidy rows and sorting them with care. Lucifer beamed beside him, thrilled at the look of awe on Adam’s face.

What began as a small gathering of lambs and a few followers soon blossomed into a thriving cult. The once-empty clearing was filled with new faces, all working together to transform the barren land. Trees were felled to build shelters, stone was chiselled into strong walls and ornate altars, and a tiny garden flourished, its soil rich with the seeds Lucifer had brought back. A simple chapel rose from the ground, built by hand and heart, where followers gathered to worship in hushed reverence, casting glances of gratitude in Adam’s direction as they admired the fields of camellias and berries.

At Adam’s suggestion, sleeping bags were traded for sturdier huts, cozy and welcoming, each one decorated with little personal touches the followers had added. It felt like a real home, and Adam found himself wrapped up in it all, hardly noticing as the days slipped by. Seasons passed in a blur of peaceful, busy days, and one evening, a thought stirred in his mind—a flicker of the life he’d left behind in the Darkwood.

Sensing his distant expression, Lucifer leaned gently against his side, his fluffy warmth soothing Adam’s restless thoughts.

“You know,” Lucifer murmured, “You don’t have to leave. You can stay… with us. With me.” His voice was soft, his words lingering in the quiet evening air.

Adam’s heart fluttered as he glanced out at the cult grounds, watching his friends busily tending to their tasks and murmuring their daily devotions at the statue in the centre.

"I don’t know…” he began, his voice trailing off as he looked back down at Lucifer.

But Lucifer only leaned closer, nestling into Adam’s wool as he whispered, “I’d really like you to stay with me, you know.”

Adam’s cheeks flared with heat, his green eyes widening as he stammered, “M-master, you… you shouldn’t speak like that,” he mumbled, barely able to meet Lucifer’s gaze. “Everyone will get jealous… they’ll accuse you of… of favouritism…”

Lucifer laughed, his bright blue eyes crinkling as he gave Adam a gentle nudge.

“Let them,” he said, smiling softly. “I want you here, Adam. No one could replace you.”

Adam swallowed, feeling his resolve weaken, wrapped up in Lucifer’s warm gaze and his own blossoming feelings.

“Addie~” Lucifer whispered sweetly. “Before you make up your mind, come to my tent tonight. Let me give you a reason to stay.”

Adam’s heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing under his wool as Lucifer’s words lingered in the air. The gentle teasing, the warmth in his voice—it all stirred a feeling in him he wasn’t used to, something he didn’t quite know what to make of.

"W-What do you mean by that?” he managed to stammer, unsure if he truly wanted the answer.

Lucifer only gave him a mischievous, innocent smile, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“You’ll have to come and find out.” His eyes held a spark, as if he enjoyed watching Adam squirm.

Just then, a voice called from deeper within the camp.

“Master! Master, we need your assistance!” Another follower waved from the makeshift altar near the centre, where they seemed to be struggling with a stack of supplies.

With a cheerful grin, Lucifer waved back.

“Comin~” he chimed, though his gaze didn’t waver from Adam’s. Just as he started walking away, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, his blue eyes half-lidded and glinting darkly.

“Trust me, Addie,” he purred, “you don’t want to miss it~”

Adam’s pulse thundered in his ears as he watched Lucifer stroll away, leaving him with thoughts that only seemed to tangle and grow more confusing. The whispers of the Darkwood seemed to carry Lucifer’s words back to him, playful and haunting. Taking a shaky breath, Adam sat back against the lamb statue, his mind spinning as he considered the invitation.

Adam was beside himself, his nerves reaching a new level. It was difficult to focus on his duties, tending to the camellia flower bed, cooking for everyone and tending to the folk that was feeling under the weather or hurt. Until finally the moon was raising, and everyone was retiring to their camellia hunts. Adam stood on the edge, swaying slowly as he debated just going to his own hut or moving towards lucifer's tent. His face grows warm again as lucifer's words echoed through his head.

He whimpered and glanced towards the tent framed with camellias and was most a rich red in colour. Breathing in deeply, Adam moved towards it, his heart beginning thump.

“M-Master?” he called anxiously, pushing the thick fabric of red aside and peeking inside.

At first, he didn't see Lucifer, just a massive pile of cushions and feathers. He nervously stood on the outside, wondering if he should really enter or not? Just as he was debating this, hooves grabbed his and he was playfully pulled into the tent.

“Why are you hiding out there?” Lucifer purred, pulling Adam close, “I told you come inside, didn't I?”

Adam gasped shyly, “M-Master, i didn’t want to be disrespectful.”

Lucifer gazed him warmly, leading him towards the pile of cushions and pushed him so he was sitting, “Oh Addie, you're so cute. it's not disrespectful. I invited you, remember?”

Opening and shutting his mouth, Adam nodded, “I guess you did Master.”

Beaming brightly, Lucifer placed his hooves onto his hips, “Now, Addie, I asked you here because I want to play a game with you.”

“A game?” Adam blinked up at him.

Dropping to his knees before the black lamb, Lucifer smiled so warmly, so lovingly at Adam, “I wish to play a game with you Addie. A special game.”

He reached his hooves out, touching Adams, “For this evening, you will be the Master and I shall be your pet.”

What?

Adam stared and stared…and stared. He waited and waited. He thought this must be a joke. A prank. Something, because surely Lucifer was not serious. However, Lucifer did nothing but gaze up at Adam seriously.

“You what?!” Adam finally exclaimed in disbelief, “Mo master! no, no, you're the Master! Your the cult leader, I’m - I’m a nobody!”

Shaking his head with a frown, Lucifer leant forward, “Oh Addie. You’re not nobody. You're special. You're important to me and I want to show you how much I trust you.”

“I want too…” Lucifer whispered, nuzzling his face up to Adams, “I wish to show you how much I need you. How much I trust you.”

Adam’s breath hitched as Lucifer leaned close, his touch soft but sending a shiver down his spine. Lucifer’s warm, velvety nose brushed against his cheek, and Adam could feel his heart racing in a way he’d never felt before. The dim, flickering light from the candles scattered around the tent cast an inviting glow over Lucifer’s face, highlighting the gentle smile that didn’t falter as he gazed at him.

“You’re special, Addie,” Lucifer murmured again, his voice warm and slow, each word carefully chosen, “and I want you to see that. I trust you to take care of me… even just for tonight.”

Adam’s heart thundered, his mind lost in the entangling mix of admiration and unease as Lucifer’s warm voice pulled him closer, breaking through his nervous hesitation.

“B-but... I mean, I’m just…” he faltered, his voice barely above a whisper.

His cheeks burned fiercely, and his gaze dropped, only to be drawn back by Lucifer’s gentle touch, his hooves guiding Adam’s chin to meet his gaze once more. Those deep, oceanic blue eyes held him, unwavering and softened with something tender, something almost vulnerable.

“Just tonight, Addie,” Lucifer’s voice was a low murmur, his tone intimate yet steeped with a hint of mystery. “Just us. No titles—no labels.”

As he settled beside Adam, their wool brushing softly together, Lucifer reached out, guiding Adam’s hoof to his cheek, where he leaned into it with an unguarded warmth that was nearly disarming. The intensity in his gaze softened but remained piercing, as though unravelling the thoughts Adam tried so hard to keep hidden.

The cool night air filled the tent, but Adam felt anything but cold. He shivered at the sensation of his hoof gliding down Lucifer’s cheek, every touch slow and uncertain, but with each passing moment, he felt steadier. Lucifer’s hand pressed over his, anchoring him, that familiar smile still lingering on his face—only tonight, it held a new edge, a shadowed softness that made Adam’s heartbeat just a little faster.

Lucifer’s voice, thick with allure, broke the silence.

“Tonight, you lead,” he whispered, a glimmer of vulnerability slipping through as he looked at Adam, eyes half-lidded and waiting. “Let me feel the kindness you’ve shown everyone else.”

A strange, tender resolve blossomed in Adam’s chest, and his anxiety softened as he nodded, tracing his hoof lightly down Lucifer’s wool-covered shoulder, feeling each delicate fibre beneath his touch. Lucifer’s breaths slowed, his eyes closing as he leaned into each touch, the stillness between them electric with unspoken emotion.

Adam’s voice was barely a murmur, the words like a breeze. “Then… if that’s what you truly want, we’ll make tonight ours.”

The warmth in Lucifer’s gaze darkened, his blue eyes glinting under the moonlight as he brought Adam’s hand to his lips, brushing them in a gesture filled with reverence.

A softness melted his expression as he whispered, “Master,” the word slipping out like a secret, barely audible, yet heavy with meaning.

“You… are beautiful.”

A shiver raced down Adam’s spine at the name, his cheeks flaming as he stammered, “M-Master? I—”

“Ah, ah,” Lucifer laughed, shaking his head as he raised a hoof in gentle reproach, the humour in his voice laced with something deeper. “No, not tonight, Addie. Call me ‘pet not Master~”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, heart pounding. He could hardly bear to meet Lucifer’s eyes, the words catching in his throat as he whispered shyly, “Um, p-pet…”

“Nooooo~” Lucifer continued, “My Pet.”

“M-My Pet…” Adam gulped as Lucifer smiled at him again, “My – My Pet, um…I…”

Lucifer’s face softened, a pleased smile growing as he caressed Adam’s wool, his touch lingering in a way that was almost reverent.

“And to be here, like this, with someone like you… you are truly remarkable, Master,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a warmth Adam had never quite heard before. Lucifer’s hoof traced patterns across Adam’s wool, whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful as you, Master. Like the midnight sky… endless, soft, yet mysterious.”

Adam closed his eyes, his breath trembling as he took in the words, a feeling of warmth and wonder filling his heart, weaving between them in the quiet of the night.

Adam could barely manage the words as he lowered his gaze, cheeks pink.

“M-My pet…” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper. The title felt strange and delicate, yet warm on his tongue, as if it held a power he hadn’t known before. “You’re – you’re too kind…”

Lucifer’s eyes softened, his smile tender as he leaned closer, his gaze filled with unspoken affection.

“Master,” he replied gently, letting the word fall like a quiet promise. He reached up to twine a hoof through Adam’s dark wool, marvelling at its softness. “You’re everything to this cult, Master. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

Adam’s heart fluttered, a shy smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“I just… I just did what I could,” he stammered, looking away. But Lucifer’s gaze stayed fixed on him, unwavering.

“Oh, but you did so much more than that.” Lucifer’s hoof traced a gentle line through Adam’s wool, his expression filled with admiration. “You’ve given us life, Master. The crops, our food... everything grows here because of you. Without you, we wouldn’t be able to harvest the berries or vegetables you’ve taught us to grow. Every bite we eat, every meal we share, is because of you.”

Adam shifted, feeling his cheeks flush even deeper.

“I just thought… I thought it would help,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

Lucifer chuckled, his eyes shining as he leaned in close. “And you were right. You didn’t just help—you made this place a home. I see you at the cooking pot, making sure everyone’s well-fed. The way you sing to yourself while you cook… it’s like you’re adding love into every meal.”

He smiled wider, a fondness glowing in his expression. “The little ones in the cult adore you for it. They tell me they feel better, like you’re bringing them light.”

Adam’s heart raced, and he turned his face away, feeling bashful.

“I… didn’t know they felt that way. I just want to make sure everyone’s taken care of,” he whispered, his voice shy.

Lucifer pulled him back gently, resting a hoof on his shoulder. “Exactly. That’s what makes you special. You look after everyone, no matter what they believe or where they come from. You welcome them all, even those who come here a little lost or uncertain.”

His voice softened. “Without you, we would have lost our way.”

Adam tried to protest, his voice flustered. “I didn’t do that much, honestly…”

But Lucifer shook his head, leaning even closer. “Yes, you did, Master. You’re the heart of us all.”

His hoof traced over Adam’s wool once more, a quiet admiration shining in his eyes. “I’m so grateful to have found you out there in the Darkwood. Without you, this place wouldn’t be the same. I wouldn’t be the same.”

Adam felt his heart swell, his cheeks heating as he looked up at Lucifer.

“I… I’m just glad I could help,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

And as Lucifer continued to play with his wool, a warmth blossomed between them that felt as deep as it was gentle, a quiet, steady feeling that neither of them could bear to let go.

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and he tilted his head, leaning close enough that Adam could feel the warmth radiating from his fur.

“Master,” he cooed, the word dripping with affection, “Can I give you a massage? You’ve been working so hard.”

His hoof slid gently over Adam’s shoulder, thumb tracing soft circles.

Adam’s cheeks flushed, and he shook his head quickly, his voice a stammered protest. “N-No, really, I’m fine! You don’t have to—”

Lucifer’s face fell in an exaggerated pout, his ears drooping slightly as he reluctantly pulled back. Not a moment later, though, his gaze lit up again as he reached for a woven basket nearby, packed with ripe, sweet-smelling fruits. He picked out a bunch of glistening grapes, holding them up enticingly as he shuffled closer to Adam.

“Then perhaps,” he whispered, “my lovely Master would like a little something to eat?”

Adam smiled shyly, waving a hoof. “No, really, I’m good. Still full from… well, the, um, grass earlier…”

His voice trailed off as he noticed Lucifer mumbling under his breath, his expression disappointed. With a soft smile, Lucifer set the basket aside but stayed close, his gaze unwavering.

He slipped his hoof over Adam’s, his touch both gentle and grounding as he gave it a warm squeeze.

“Adam,” he said softly, his tone now holding a quiet seriousness. “I want to pamper you; to show you how much you mean to me. You’ve given me—and everyone here—so much.”

His eyes softened, and he squeezed Adam’s hoof a little tighter. “I want you to feel how much I appreciate you, to trust me as I trust you.”

Adam blinked, his heart skipping at the depth in Lucifer’s words.

“But… Master,” he stammered, his voice laced with surprise. “You don’t have to do that for me—I’m not worth all of this.”

Lucifer let out a dramatic sigh, his free hoof coming up to gently cup Adam’s cheek, brushing over his fur with a tenderness that made Adam’s cheeks burn.

“Adam,” he whispered, voice low and sincere, “You deserve the world and more. Everything good in this place exists because of you. I wish I could give you all of it, and even that would never be enough.”

The weight of Lucifer’s words wrapped around Adam like a comforting blanket. As he investigated those familiar, earnest eyes, he felt a warmth bloom in his chest—a soft, steady reminder of the deep bond they shared, one that only seemed to grow stronger with each day.

Lucifer’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, his gaze flickering to the ground as he took a shaky breath. “Adam… I…”

He started hesitantly, voice just above a whisper, and then, as though the words had broken free, they poured out in a rush. “I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me. Being with you feels like—I don’t know, like I’m floating, like everything else fades away, and it’s just us.”

He laughed softly, almost shyly, as he continued, his sapphire eyes bright. “You’re so gentle, so thoughtful… I’ve never felt like this before, not in all the time I’ve led this cult.”

Lucifer squeezed Adam’s hoof as he rambled on, a light of pure admiration shining in his eyes. “From that day you found me… I didn’t think anyone would have helped a stranger like me, especially out in Darkwood. But you did. You saved me, you stayed with me. You gave me all this, all of you.”

He paused, glancing down, his blush deepening as he continued in a softer tone. “And I… I don’t think I’d even be able to breathe without you now.”

Adam’s eyes widened, his heart pounding as he watched Lucifer, his usual playful confidence replaced by a vulnerable warmth that made his own cheeks flush. Lucifer hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his tunic as he looked up, a rare shyness shining in his eyes. For the first time, Adam saw his confident Master look almost timid.

“I… I love you, Adam,” Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible. “I love you so much, more than anything else in this world.”

He gave a small, bashful laugh, the blush blooming even deeper across his snowy cheeks. “And if you’ll have me, I want to make you mine. Truly.”

His voice caught, but he managed a smile, gazing at Adam with pure adoration. “I want to marry you, Adam. I want us to be together, to share all of this… forever.”

The words sent a shiver down Adam’s spine, and he could only stare, mouth slightly open as his thoughts scrambled to catch up.

“Marriage?” he echoed in disbelief, a hundred thoughts racing through his mind. Him? Worthy of something as incredible as this? “But… But I’m not worth all of that. I’m nobody. Just… a shadow in the background, a helper…”

Lucifer shook his head immediately, his voice full of emotion. “No, Adam. You’re wrong. You’re so much more than that. You’re my everything. More valuable than gold, than anything I could ever own or offer. You’re the heart of this place, the one who keeps us all going, who’s kept me going.”

His voice softened, and he brought his hoof to Adam’s cheek, brushing it tenderly. “You’re worth more than you realize, and I want to show you that… if you’ll let me.”

Tears stung Adam’s eyes, the weight of Lucifer’s words settling into him as he looked into those sincere, adoring eyes. He had no words, only a fierce blush as he reached up, letting Lucifer’s gentle touch ground him. In that moment, he felt the truth of it—this was more than just a home. It was a place where he belonged, with someone who truly, deeply loved him.

Adam took a deep breath, the weight of his decision settling warmly in his chest.

“I’ll stay,” he whispered, voice soft yet resolute. He looked up at Lucifer, his own uncertainty melting in the face of the pure joy lighting up Lucifer’s eyes. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll be part of the cult… with you.”

A soft, delighted gasp escaped Lucifer, and his face lit up as he leaned closer, his voice a sweet murmur. “Does that mean… you’ll marry me too?”

Adam’s breath hitched as their eyes met, a blush rising as he gave a small, trembling nod. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Lucifer.”

Lucifer’s face broke into a radiant smile, and without another word, he closed the distance between them, capturing Adam’s lips in a firm, devoted kiss. Their wool blended together, soft and warm, as Lucifer rolled him back into the pile of cushions, his laughter like a joyful melody. Adam felt the weight of Lucifer’s love surrounding him, a feeling of completeness that left him breathless.

Nestled together, their foreheads pressed close, Lucifer’s hand found Adam’s, entwining their fingers as he whispered, “With you here, Adam… I finally feel like I’ve found where I belong.”

Adam shyly smiled in return, “I…I love you too, Master.”

“Oh Addie~” Lucifer sighed in bliss.

The two kisses again.

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