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[comic-sans-chan]

Fic I'll never write where Dukat decides the biennial Cardassian Festival of Whatever the Fuck (it is never actually specified) should be hosted on Deep Space Nine as a way of bridging the gap between the Cardassian and Bajoran peoples. Sisko and Kira are both Ehhhh about it, but Dukat is obnoxiously persistent until finally the Bajoran government and Federation higher ups are like “K”, on the condition that no Cardassian military (or Order) personnel be allowed. All security for the event will be handled by Odo and Starfleet. Dukat is suspiciously cool with this, which puts everyone on alert, but soon Cardassian vendors and decorators start showing up and they turn out to be pretty chill people, so they let it happen.

While the preparations for the festival are underway, another operation has started. A motherfucker from Garak's past is doing typical motherfucker things on the station. One of these things is scouting Garak's quarters, learning the layout, tracking Garak's routine. It becomes clear very quickly that the rapidly increasing number of Cardassians on DS9 is putting Garak on edge, though, because he seems to be fiddling more with his security protocols, so the motherfucker realizes they need to make their move and they need to make it fast.

They succeed. Sort of. With the circumstances as they are, they had to get a little... creative, but it should do the trick.

By early next morning, every PADD, screen, and computer system on the station is streaming seventy-two different poems on a constant loop. Love poems. Ardent, anguished, often utterly indecent love poems, all with the central theme of being about one Doctor Julian Bashir.

Quark is one of the first to notice the problem, being the type of asshole who opens early despite this only increasing his bottom line by a fraction of a fraction. At first, he's furious that his systems have been tampered with, but after reading a few lines of what his normal menu and advertisements have been replaced with, he's laughing, and by the end of the third poem, he's on the floor.

"Odo!" he shouts, banging on the bastard's door twenty minutes later. "Odo, open up! We've got a problem!"

Odo slinks under the door and slips up between it and Quark's pounding fist with a glare. "Quark! I'm not on duty for another hour. What could possibly be so urgent?"

Quark's sharp little rat teeth are splitting his face clean in half as he holds up the PADD. "Take a look."

Odo scrolls through a couple poems, then squints and scrolls through several more. "Erotic love poetry? I didn't peg you for the type."

"To like erotica? Hoo, I thought you paid better attention than that, Constable."

Odo returns the PADD with a dry expression. "To read."

"Oh, you're hilarious." He taps Odo's chest with the PADD. "The whole station is filled with this stuff. My bar, the Replimat, the Celestial Cafe, the promenade. Someone's either desperate to make a statement, or we've been sabatoged."

Dramatic sci-fi music swells and we get a close-up of Odo’s eerily hairless face and nasal cavity.

The next few hours are dedicated to trying and failing to seize back the servers and briefing the bridge staff on the situation.

"Are we sure these are all about Doctor Bashir?" Sisko's voice booms across Ops. He's on his second cup of coffee and a pile of useless PADDs lay beside him.

Julian has remained stoic throughout the discussion and he remains so now, avoiding eye contact with anyone who's smiling a little too wide. Like Jadzia. "Oh, definitely," she says. "He's mentioned by name in three of them, and several others make a point of highlighting the subject's 'golden sand dune skin', 'aristocratic' features, and 'voice that never stops singing.' Sounds like Julian to me."

A few snickers break out, but Sisko is taking the matter seriously. Thank fuck, Julian thinks. It actually looks like it's giving him a headache, which would make two of them if Julian was capable of having headaches. The captain's rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "And the source..."

"There's a clear data trail back to Garak's quarters. Whoever did this, they wanted us to know where it came from," Kira reports. A muscle jumps in Julian's cheek.

"I tracked Garak down for his statement on the issue," Odo says, gruff, "and he told me he had nothing to do with the virus. In fact, he denied ever having laid eyes on the poems in his life. He's claiming he's been framed." He rolls his eyes.

"Okay," Jadzia says, "we all agree he's lying, right?"

"But which part..."

"Oh, they're Garak's. I've read enough Lloja of Prim to be familiar with traditional Kardasi meter and syntax, and that isn't even going into all the parallels drawn between our doctor and Prime. Sand, heat, rainforests. Bit of Romulan imagery in there, too, if I'm not mistaken. A lot of flowers and vines. Wasn't Garak a gardener?"

"I see no reason why anyone would want to embarass themselves like this," O'Brien cuts in before Jadzia can make it worse. "Even if he is trying to distract us or something, this seems counterproductive in the long term. Everyone’s watching him now, not just us. The rumor mill is running rampant. Not exactly a spy’s MO."

"He did blow up his shop once."

"Because someone was trying to kill him," Julian pipes up for the first time, looking concerned. "Do you think this might be another cry for help?"

"Oh, it's a cry for something," Jadzia quips, and Julian shuts the fuck up.

"Dax," Sisko snaps, like the good benevolent Wormhole Alien Jesus he is, and Dax shuts the fuck up, too. Sisko gives them all the stink eye. "Constable, you're nearly as familiar with Garak as the doctor is," he says, and holds a hand up before any jokes can be made. "What do you think?"

"I don't think he's behind this, sir. None of the pieces add up, and he seemed genuinely agitated when I spoke to him, in his way. At present, I believe he is as much a victim here as the rest of us."

Sisko sighs. "All right. Do we have any idea who is behind this?"

The room is silent for a time, before Odo reluctantly answers for everyone, "Not yet, sir."

"Find out," Sisko demands, "and Chief, get these damn poems off of my reports. Dismissed."

Julian is out of the room before anyone else has stood up.

The rest of the day is spent ducking in and out of his office, only treating those who ask for him by name and keeping all conversations strictly professional. Any mentions of poetry, the festival, Cardassians, or Garak are firmly sidelined, and on a couple occasions, rewarded with a none-too-gentle hypo. He skips lunch altogether and extends his shift by two hours to avoid the dinner rush.

By the time he's leaving the Infirmary, it's late. Unfortunately for him, not late enough that the halls aren't still speckled with observers to his personal soap opera. With the Festival of Frank’s Hot Dogs less than a week away, DS9 is becoming increasingly crowded with tourists, mostly Cardassian, but a surprising amount Bajoran, too–apparently this festival was a rare bright point during the Occupation, when their oppressors were not only lenient with them for once, but generous with food and drink and freedoms. It doesn't hurt that the only Cardassians on board are civilian rather than military, so the atmosphere is rather more colorful, courteous and conversational rather than cold, dark and aggressive. It would make Julian smile if he wasn't so busy being gawked at.

"I don't see it," one Cardassian man grumbles and Julian's accursed augmented ears pick up. "He's even smoother than a Bajoran."

"Oh, yeah," his companion replies, "just think of how easily he'd slide around."

"Tanett!"

"Oh, hush, Grandpa. You're just xenophobic. He's cute."

"Well, you be careful who hears you say that. That Garak fellow is in the Order, you know. Ears everywhere. You don't want to know what things a man like that is capable of."

"Wasn't he exiled? Hardly intimidating now. Apparently all he's capable of anymore is whimpering over an alien like a pakrela."

Julian covers his ears and walks faster.

But that just brings him within range of a cluster of Bajorans. "Oh, there's the doctor now," one is saying, up on the balcony. 

"The one the Cardassian tailor wrote about?"

"That poor fool. He thought they were friends, but here this whole time it was perverse. I can only imagine how much that hurts."

"Happened to my friend once. He thought a glinn was being kind because he was having a crisis of conscience and wanted to help him escape. No, he just wanted to–"

He could go to his quarters, but a flash of memory - Garak's bright eyes at the end of his bed, his figure encased in shadow - sends him in the opposite direction. Before long, he finds himself on an oft-unused Observation deck, since it offers no view of the wormhole or either Bajor or Cardassia's suns. It's blessedly empty, as usual, and Julian settles on a bench and stares into the dark nothingness of space for a long time.

At some point, he finds that his hand has retrieved the PADD from his medical bag, and the screen is lit up automatically with the first poem.

He reads well into the night.

—

The next morning finds Garak with a tall glass of rokassa juice and two eggs, staring intensely into a mysteriously operational PADD at the far end of Quark's bar. Quark pops out of his backroom like a jack-in-the-box.

"Ha! Well, if it isn't the man of the hour himself, gracing my fine establishment so soon after nearly destroying it. Do you know I've had to have menus printed, like we're in the dark ages? Do you have any idea how extensive my menu is? I ought to sue you for damages." He catches a glimpse of the PADD's screen and its decidedly unpoetic contents. "Hey, you fixed it? How?"

"It was just a simple virus. Viruses can be purged," Garak says without looking up. He barely seems aware of Quark's existence.

When no other words are forthcoming, Quark huffs. "Well, can you purge it from the rest of the station, then?"

"I gave the program to the Chief last night."

"And he didn't immediately come here to fix my bar? I'll have to file a complaint.”

Garak offers no reply. Just continues to stare into his PADD.

There are other customers he could be seeing to, but Quark can't pass up this golden opportunity. He's known Garak a long time and known of him even longer, and now that he has the guy's guts all neatly lined up on several dozen isolinear rods, he's never felt closer to the man. He makes a point of knowing things about his customers, but before yesterday, the most he knew about Garak was that he was an assassin, a tailor, a mean, weepy drunk, and friends with Bashir, Odo, and a smattering of other shopkeepers. That was it. But now...

He leans over the counter, closer to Garak's unblinking face. "You know," he says, with a smile rising slow on his cheeks, "if it's humans you like, I have a couple holosuite programs that might be just what you need."

Garak's gaze ascends as if on a motor, smooth and mechanical.

Good. He’s considering the bait. Now he just has to get him to bite. "All completely customizable. Skin, eyes, hair. You like long legs, they've got long legs. Scrawny, they're scrawny. Whatever you want. Although if you're really hung up on the one face, that can also be arranged. For the right price." When Garak just looks at him, Quark switches tactics. "Or maybe it's the uniform that does it for you? I've got 'em, but I'd suggest something out of my lingerie databases. I've still got some little Cardassian numbers filed away that I think even a man with your discerning tastes could appreciate. Just imagine, Doctor Bashir in a–"

He doesn't see the hand coming until it's already crushing his windpipe. Quark claws at it for several long, desperate moments while Garak continues to look.

Leeta scuttling over and yanking him away is what ultimately puts a stop to it, and it's while Quark is gasping in dramatic bursts of air that Leeta says in a rush, "Garak, please! Whatever he said, he didn't mean it!"

"Oh, I meant it," Quark coughs out with a high, strangled laugh, "he just didn't like it."

"Whatever conclusions you've drawn in the last twenty-six hours, allow me to dispel them," Garak says primly, as if he hadn't almost committed murder in broad daylight. "I am not a xenophile and I do not have feelings for Doctor Bashir. There are no less than two-hundred Cardassians currently aboard the station, and I assure you, none of them like me. Those poems were obviously planted."

Oh, but Quark is a little pissed now, unwise as that is. "Please, Garak," he says, "who has time to write that many poems about Julian just to mess with you? Two or three, maybe, but over seventy? If you're going to lie, at least don't insult our intelligence."

Garak's eyes flash and Quark ducks behind Leeta, repentant. Leeta sighs. "Garak, what's so bad about loving Julian?" she asks softly. "I thought the poems were really touching. It’s sweet how much you care for him."

But he's already staring into his PADD again. "I'm sorry, Miss Leeta, but I am a bit busy. Perhaps we can discuss my hypothetical feelings for your paramour another time."

"Julian and I have never been serious," she tries to assure him, but he's engrossed again, or at least pretending to be. Her and Quark share a look and leave him to it. Lesson learned.

"Let the bastard be pent up and miserable, then," Quark grumbles from the other end of the bar as he pours Table 3's drinks. A prickle on his neck has him looking up and there Garak's eyes are again, piercing, and Quark rushes off to deliver the drinks.

The three young Cardassians there are much more friendly. One has their nose stuck in one of the useless poetry PADDs while the other two smile at Quark while he sets out their orders.

"Three Raktajinos, extra bitter," Quark says, and is thanked. Polite. One even praises the drink's exoticness. Klingon coffee, exotic. Heh. "Your food will be out in a few."

Before he can finish turning, though, a hand is touching his arm. "What is the title of this anthology you include at every table?" the young man asks.

"Oh, that's not..." He sighs. "It's new. I can't remember."

"Find out for us, please," he says. "Works like these can be hard to come by on Prime and we make it our business to collect them. Whoever this author is, they're very unique."

"If these aren't banned on Prime already, they will be soon," his friend comments with a giggle.

"No doubt."

"'In my desolation, I am as weeds: Cut my roots and Let the waters take me, To drown and bloom anew, in You,'" the one with her nose in the PADD reads aloud, and shivers. "They'd burn the whole Central Archive down just for this one. It's so explicit."

"Let me see that," the boy demands, as the other one is already surging over to read over the girl's shoulder. Watching them fight over the PADD has Quark thinking back to the isolinear rods in his safe, and he hums thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder.

Garak isn't looking.

—

Glinn Halon Duvur. Former underling of Gul Dukat. Out of uniform, vacationing on Deep Space Nine with his wife and nine children. Spends his days gambling while his kids play unsupervised in the holosuites and his wife visits old friends. 

Beloved uncle sent to trial by the Obsidian Order in 2356 and executed that same day for crimes of attempted sabotage against Cardassia.

Garak watches the man wander down the promenade sans his proud lineage, jingling a fat little bag of gold-pressed latinum and yet-unconverted leks. He wanders out of range, so Garak switches to the next camera and there that unfortunate face is again. He drums his fingers on the desk. It won't be long now.

An alert rings in his ear and he almost initiates the shockfield on impulse, but the flash of smooth, brown skin on a monitor stays his hand. The knocking comes, and that haunting voice calls out, "Garak! Are you there?"

Garak rests his head next to the surveillance screens.

Predictably, the doctor tries to input his override, but the door remains shut. There's a long pause.

"Garak..." Julian sounds irate. Garak hums. "Did you deprogram my override code? Nevermind how illegal that is, that's dangerous! What if you're injured? Or fall ill?"

He says this just after attempting to abuse his station privileges for personal reasons. Infuriating hypocrite.

"Oh, my barging in at random, odd hours is no less than you deserve, Garak," Julian says as if in response to Garak's thoughts. "You set that precedent in our relationship yourself."

Terrible man.

"Fine. I'll give you some more time, since you want it so badly, but I'll be back and when I am, that override had better work. If it doesn’t, I promise there will be hell to pay, my friend."

Beautiful man.

"Goodbye, Mr. Garak."

Goodbye, Doctor.

Glinn Duvur dies two hours later of alcohol poisoning while his wife is in bed with Gul Rilimn's wife.

—

“I just can’t believe it,” Kira is bitching. Jadzia smiles and sips her drink, looking out over the Replimat balcony at all the happy brunchgoers. “A Cardassian writing poetry about something that isn’t conquest or the wonders of dictatorial rule or, at best, the pride of the traditional family nobly bowing and scraping. I’ve never seen it.”

“It would certainly seem to run counter to Cardassian values.”

“And about Julian!” she shrieks in her inside voice, slapping her hands down on the table. “Garak the spy, writing love poetry about Julian. Going on and on about his–his...”

“Ass?” Jadzia offers.

“Eyes. His eyes! Ohhh, I knew he wanted to have sex with him, everyone knew that, but to write about his eyes like... like that? It’s practically Bajoran.”

“That’s true.”

Kira stops long enough in her tirade to eye her, and presses her lips into a thin line. “How are you so calm about this?”

Jadzia takes another sip. “I’m just fascinated,” she says. “I’ll admit, I’ve been looking at this more through Tobin’s eyes than my own. Have I ever told you that he met Lloja of Prim during his exile?” 

“He did not.”

“He did, and Lloja flirted with him outrageously. It was embarrassing, looking back. Of course, nothing ever came of it, because Tobin was always hopelessly blind to those sorts of things even without the language barrier, but his children liked to joke that many of Lloja’s poems were about him.”

Kira’s jaw is hanging. “Were they?”

Jadzia grins and shrugs. Kira laughs.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Perhaps,” Jadzia allows, “but I do wonder... Being able to call nervous, asexual Tobin the lover of Lloja of Prim would have been quite the notch in my belt. Think of the stories I could have told! And now here Julian is with the opportunity. I know it’s not the same, I mean, it’s Garak. But, you have to admit, to write about him like that...”

“He must really love him,” Kira finishes for her, stumped. “I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“I didn’t see it, either,” Jadzia confesses. “I was still wrestling with the idea that they were actually friends. I thought their association was strictly professional and all the books and flirting were just a front.” She cradles her head in her hands suddenly and sighs. “Ugh, but those poems. The poems are so good! Kira...”

“I know,” she moans. “They’re heart-wrenching. Which one are you on now?”

“Thirty-nine. I came back home, but I came back gone.”

“Ouch.”

“I know.”

A shout from below interrupts them and they both shoot out of their seats. Below, a Cardassian man has just had a beam fall on top of him. Jadzia and Kira bound down the stairs to him, Jadzia already slapping a hand on her comm badge. 

“Dax to Infirmary, a man has just been crushed, possibly impaled. Send a medical team to Replimat and be ready for emergency beam out.”

“Acknowledged, we’re on our way,” Girani says, but already Kira is looking up at Jadzia helplessly, the man’s wrist laying limp between her hands.

“He’s gone.”

“Shit!” Jadzia hunches over, hands on her knees. “That’s the third one today. Are Cardassians always this accident prone? No wonder you won the war.”

“No,” Kira says. “They’re not. You don’t think...”

“I don’t know,” Jadzia says grimly, and looks around at the crowd that’s formed. All Cardassian, all terrified. “But we need to find out.”

—

A Cardassian is sitting at the bar. This isn’t an unusual sight now, with the Festival of 90s Funk and Beyond coming up, but seeing one so young and looking so hunted is odd. Quark approaches him casually.

“What’ll you have?”

The Cardassian’s eyes dart. “Uh...” He leans over suddenly, cups both hands over his mouth, and whispers, “E. G. Special.”

Christ, these kids are going to kill him. “Coming right up,” he says in a normal person voice, and reaches under the bar for a glass. A little drink-mixing magic later, a beautiful fizzy blue drink is sitting between them, with an isolinear rod tucked neatly in the straw.

The Cardassian takes the drink between both hands excitedly, and Quark snaps his fingers in front of him. “Oh! Right,” the kid stutters, and all but launches the latinum at Quark’s face. “Thank you!” And off he goes, out of the bar with the glass still tight in his grasp.

“Idiot,” Quark mutters to himself, crouching carefully down to pick the latinum up off the floor without dirtying his expensive pants. “You’re supposed to take the straw, not the entire glass. That’s it, I’m switching to plastic. These little rebel brats don’t deserve my ni—Oh, hello, Constable! I didn’t see you there. What can I get you?”

Odo looks as unimpressed as ever. “That’s a funny question since last I checked, I don’t drink.”

“Ah, right, because you’re a liquid. How could I forget. You know, one of these days, I ought to serve you up with a little umbrella, see how people like it. I’d bet you taste bitter.” Odo harrumphs, and Quark makes himself busy with wiping down the counter. “Well, out with it then. What nefarious scheme am I up to now? I love to hear your little stories.”

Four isolinear rods drop onto the counter, right where Quark was just cleaning. “Hey now,” he says, throwing a performative glare at the changeling. “Careful. If you shatter glass in my bar, you’re cleaning it up.”

“I just had the most interesting conversation with the Tokal family,” Odo says, steamrolling right over him. “It seems their four darling children had somehow come into some questionable reading material. They tried searching for it in the Central Archives and yet, despite it being clearly Cardassian in origin, they could not find it. And I don’t need to tell you that when a piece of Cardassian reading material isn’t in the Central Archives...”

Quark, from his plastered position on the floor, stares up into Odo’s face directly horizontal to his and smiles. “What?”

“It’s illegal,” Odo sneers, stretching his body even further over the bar and nearly sending Quark starfishing. 

“Okay! Odo! I get it! But what does that have to do with me?”

“Quark!”

“Okay, okay! Whatever it is you think I’ve done, I’ll stop! I’ll stop, okay?”

“I know you’re going to stop, because I am going to confiscate every copy of Garak’s poetry that you have absconded with and destroy them.”

Quark gasps. “Book burning? In this day and age?”

“Garak did not give his permission for you to sell his work! He didn’t even want anyone to see it in the first place! Those poems were stolen. Now, I expect a list of every person you sold a copy to and a full and complete refund to be issued by tomorrow morning. Do I make myself clear?”

Quark glowers. “You’ve made yourself something, all right.”

“Quark...”

“Okay! All right. Consider it done.”

-

Turora Lumok. Obsidian Order operative and old colleague. Usually in deep cover in the Organian sectre, but has abandoned post to explore the space station. Barren, unattached. Cold. A model agent, if you ignore her unfortunate habit of going rogue and eliminating civilians on a whim. 

Recruited into the Order by Enabran Tain’s former right hand, Euluk Bucun, who was assassinated by Elim Garak in 2341 under orders from Enabran Tain for suspicions of treason. Turora Lumok disciplined shortly afterward by Elim Garak for complaining that she had wanted to be the one to kill that bitch.

Garak watches as the woman pretends to touch up her makeup while scouting for cameras. “Oh, Lumok, you always were woefully obvious. Have you been expecting me? I wonder why.”

Satisfied with the positions of the cameras, she puts away her mirror and strolls out of sight.

Garak shakes his head. “Fool. You forget how long I’ve lived on this wretched station. I don’t need to see you every second to know where you are.”

But then, the smell of antiseptic. Starfleet issue soap. Herbal shampoo, unique, robust. Gels. Oils. Sweat. 

He’s near.

Forcing calmness with a deep, measured breath, he takes off his eyepiece and slips it into his sleeve. He pays for the food he barely ate. He stands. He turns.

And is promptly thrust into the dark, deep woods of Julian Bashir’s eyes. “There you are, Garak! I’ve been looking all over for you,” the doctor says as if it’s just a regular day on Deep Space Nine. His hot, mammalian body caging him tightly in place against the table betrays the ruse. “Who was it you were talking to?”

Garak tries to step around him. Julian steps with him. “Oh, only ever myself. Forgive me, but you’ve caught me just on my way out. I have a strict appointment at 2.”

There’s Julian’s hand now. On his shoulder. Garak is calm. This is normal. “Well, why don’t I walk you there then.”

“My dear Doctor, I couldn’t rob you of your meal. Clearly you’ve just walked in.”

“Actually, I’ve found I’m craving something a bit different now.”

Garak makes to step around Julian again, and still Julian’s steps match his. It’s like they’re dancing. He doesn’t let this deter him. He’s not sure he’s capable of letting anything deter him now, with his heart trying to pound out of his throat. He keeps stepping doggedly forward, and Julian keeps mirroring, still with that damned hand burning through his tunic. “Well, you only have so much time before you must return to the infirmary, I know. Do not allow me to delay you in securing a table at a different locale.”

“Oh, but you’ve already delayed me so long. What’s a few more minutes?” A peek of teeth, a hint of warning. “Though I will admit... I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

“Then don’t.” Finally, Garak manages to elbow past this madness and shoot out of the restaurant. The station is so crowded these days, it’s short work to get lost in it. In a sea of ridges and black hair, Garak slips his eyepiece back on and lets the wave take him. 

“Garak!”

Oh, for the Union’s sake—

He does not run. He does not stumble. He walks normally and not desperately, keeping his eye on both the path to the turbolift and Lumok. She’s down the corridor now, pretending to check her makeup again like an imbecile. Just a few paces more. Almost there...

“Garak, you’re the best dressed one here! You are not difficult to spot, you ridiculous dandy! Oh, no offense, Ma’am. Lovely scarf. Excuse me.”

There.

In the reflection of the mirror, Garak makes eye contact with the rogue and taps in the correct sequence on the device sewed into the seam of his pants just as the turbolift doors close behind him.

Like that, Turora Lumok is beamed into space and dies instantly, without a soul to mourn her, and Elim Garak walks back to his quarters with a hand over his mouth and a warmth on his shoulder, without a soul to mourn him, either.

—-

The Festival of Fierce and Fantastic Frogs is two days away and already it is being protested.

Outside Quark’s Bar is a growing army of dissident children with voice amplifiers and holoprojectors shouting to the stars that if they don’t get their porn back, they’ll tear it all down. Signs are projected in the air with essays cycling through them that look to be several pages each, a small holographic fire barely reaching ankle-height is lighting up the length of the promenade, and – perhaps most disturbingly – a comically inaccurate approximation of Odo is rotating at the center of the group, fitted in the typical regalia of the Cardassian military and holding a Klingon bat’leth. It is certainly... something.

“They’re Cardassians,” Quark is saying as he pours out some root beers. “They’ve probably never seen a protest in their lives, they don’t know what they’re doing. The Union puts an end to things like this pretty fast on the surface.”

“Heh,” Jadzia says, “what happens on DS9, stays on DS9.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Kira asks.

“It’s something Julian likes to say. Basically, they figure they can get away with speaking their minds here.”

Kira drums her fingers on the bar, staring into the flailing protestors thoughtfully. 

Right then, Odo arrives back on the scene. It looks like he’s trying to get through, respectfully, but the protestors are not making it easy. Jadzia and Kira come to his rescue just as about fifteen Cardassians start forming a blockade around him.

“I walked around as you do, investigating the endless stars,” one young woman is yelling at him while he stands there with big helpless baby eyes, “and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind!” 

“I don’t know what that means,” Odo says consolingly.

“Clearly!”

“Okay, okay, let him through!” Kira wiggles her way between the crowd and Odo, snatching him by the arm like a fish with a hook. “He’s not your enemy here, he was just upholding your laws!”

“The Cardassian government has no jurisdiction on a Bajoran station!”

“He made his choices!”

“Beautiful Julian would be ashamed of you! Repent! Repent!”

Kira and Jadzia manage to reel him most of the way through the protesters and he shapeshifts the rest of the journey. The protestors try to follow, but Quark bustles over to stop them. “No, no demonstrations inside! Remember who your allies are,” he says, and they all cow back. “Thank you.”

Odo ripples his form a couple times to make sure everything’s back in the right place and harrumphs. “Allies, Quark?”

“Yes, allies. It’s terrible what you’ve done to them. You can’t police art, Odo–-this is culture we're talking about here, the very bedrock of society.”

“And I’m sure this virtuous attitude of yours has nothing to do with the incredible profit you made and lost at the expense of our mutual friend.”

“Oh, I did him a favor.” Quark uncaps another bottle of Kanar and gestures back to the entrance, with its swarm of frothing Cardassian children. “Look, he’s got fans!”

“How has Garak been handling all this?” Kira asks Odo, sharing a look with Jadzia. “I haven’t heard a peep out of him since he gave us that antivirus program.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Didn’t you have breakfast with him yesterday?”

“Hmmm, that would have been routine. Except he didn’t show. When I made it back to my office, I found a message from him apologizing, telling me he’s so busy with orders he’s lost all track of time.”

“How has he been getting commissions?” Jadzia asks. “His shop’s been closed all week.”

Odo rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure the reality is he’s simply avoiding the issue. Dr. Bashir has informed me he’s been treating him like ‘the black plague’ as well.” 

“Julian’s one to talk. He practically pole-vaulted over a vedek the other day to get away from me.” 

“Speak of the devil,” Quark says, looking towards the door, and everyone turns just as the commotion starts–or, more accurately, the commotion abruptly stops. 

The protestors have all gone quiet, in apparent awe as they part around Julian like the red sea around Moses. He’s smiling stupidly as he stands in the center of them, nodding at something a Cardassian man is exclaiming. It’s an incredibly awkward scene, and Quark starts choking at some of the things his ears are picking up. “They’ve deified him,” he tells them, and Jadzia bursts into giggles at the idea, but Quark isn’t joking. “Really. He might as well be one of the prophets to them. You read the poems. You know.”

Ugh. Kira wrinkles her nose in disgust. The worst kind of blasphemy–horny blasphemy. “What is he even doing here?” she asks. 

“Getting his head inflated,” Jadzia says dryly, because now that Quark has mentioned it, it’s pretty clear from the shit-eating grin on Julian’s face that that’s exactly what’s happening. 

“Poor Garak.” Quark says it absentmindedly, but the comment gets several eyes turned on him. He’s shaking his head as he watches the scene unfold. “First, he falls for a human… humiliating… but then that love becomes public knowledge and several young beautiful Cardassians decide that he’s onto something, and now that human is going to get more action in a week than he’s seen his entire life. I’ve witnessed the rise and fall of more than a few star-crossed romances, but this might just be the saddest.”

“Julian wouldn’t have an orgy the same week the whole station found out Garak’s in love with him,” Jadzia says, insulted on his behalf.

Quark hefts a tray up onto his shoulder. “He just did,” he says as he leaves to go do his job, and Jadzia whips her head around to see Julian escorting two attractive Cardassians away from the protest. Her jaw drops.

“Bastard,” Kira spits, surprising everyone, herself most of all. Those poems must’ve affected her more than she realized.

Odo clears his throat unnecessarily. “I’m no expert on the behavior of solids, but it seems to me that neither party is handling this situation well.”

“I’ll tell you how the pakrela should be handling this,” an older Cardassian sitting at the far end of the bar cuts in, with a twitch to him that makes it clear he’s more than a few deep. “He should be settling his assets, because he doesn’t have long now. Whatever his human is doing is the least of his worries. Ha. Hehe. Being a traitor wasn’t enough for him. No, now he’s gone and corrupted the next generation with his degeneracy. Exile was too soft a punishment. Uh-huh.”

Kira opens her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Odo touches her shoulder. “You speak as if you know him,” he notes mildly, because of course, the exact reason for Garak’s exile isn’t public record. It’s barely even private record. The Order doesn’t work that way–or didn’t, as it stands. It is interesting that this man is acting like he has classified information despite being a civilian. 

But then, sometimes day drinkers just like to spout speculation as fact.

The man looks into his glass and laughs at his reflection. “Who doesn’t know Garak these days? But that’s temporary. He’ll be forgotten soon enough, just like the Order.” He finishes his drink and gets up. He insincerely mutters some friendly Cardassian farewell and starts to walk past them, but Kira can’t let it go.

“Excuse me, but what’s your name, sir? You’ve been so informative.”

He looks at her for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he says, and elbows past the protesters.

—

“Solt Mebol, left behind a widow and child six years ago when he was tragically killed in a transporter accident. In reality, he accepted an undercover mission which required him to fake his death and have his bond dissolved. A significant sacrifice. Certainly not one many Cardassians could have made.”

The Cardassian stares at Garak sitting on his couch. Turning, he tries to exit his temporary quarters, but the door won’t open.

Garak tuts. “Oh, you know better than that, Mebol.” He taps his disruptor with his forefinger, resting harmlessly against his knee. “The festival isn’t for another couple days, yet here you are. Catching up with old friends before the festivities, I assume? Only I haven’t found you in anyone’s company but your own. You must be lonely. Please, let me alleviate your loneliness for a while.”

The Cardassian sighs at the closed door. “Solt, is it?”

“I can tell you the names of your wife and child as well, if you’d like, and the city they live in. Do you know your wife never rebonded? Unusual behavior for a Romulan. Quite dangerous, as I understand it.”

Solt steps carefully into the small living space and sits in the chair opposite Garak, with the coffee table between them. “As one of the last living members of the Order, I don’t suppose you would consider letting me go?”

Garak smiles pleasantly. “I would be delighted.”

“Would you? I had a deal with Central Command and they’ve been good to me so far. You, however, have been known to…” He eyes the disruptor casually turned in his direction.

“Yes, I imagine I must be something of a mystery these days to my people. I have been… squirrely, is what I suppose a human would say, and I must as well now that I’ve been painted with their brush. Oh, it is an incredible sin, I know. That I should enjoy the company of an attractive alien while in exile.”

Solt snorts. “You expect me to believe those poems were the natural result of a fling?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything you do not wish to. I only say that it’s convenient that I should be seen as even more traitorous just as a swarm of Cardassians should enter the station.”

“What’s convenient is that you’re still alive. You have friends in high places willing to go to bat for you, in spite of everything you’ve done. It’s a disgrace. You are a selfish disloyal anarchist and no one is holding you accountable, because you just happened to be good at your job once and everyone likes the idea of having you as a potential weapon should the need for one arise. Until then, they’re content to keep you in a cabinet collecting dust and sentiment. You can wave that disruptor all you want, but we both know you make a poor operative now. You’re in love.” 

Garak is still smiling, but Solt can see the signs of a grimace. Dusty, indeed. Too passionate. Too human. “I’m hardly so foolish. You know better than I the dangers of such things in our line of work. You’re little better than a puppet now that you’ve had a whiff of the truth, Mebol.”

“You’re right.” Solt attempts to raise one eye ridge, despite it being unfit for such maneuvers, and leans forward towards that disruptor. “Pull my strings, then, and let’s test that grip Bashir has on yours.”

—

Kira crashes into Garak’s quarters and kickflips past all his booby traps like Indiana Jones’ hotter cousin.

“What the fuck, Richard?” is basically what she says, only it’s in character, so it’s more like, “What the fuck, Garak!”

Garak spins around in his maniacal villain chair with a look of surprise. “How did you get in here, Major?” Miles bustles his way in after her with his impractically enormous toolkit, and Garak lets out an, “Ah,” then, sedately, “I suppose Dr. Bashir filed a complaint about my tampering with the door codes. Of course, there’s a perfectly logical explanation. You see, it–”

“This isn’t about door codes, Garak,” Kira yells. “What I want to know is why our best suspect for the sudden influx of murders on the station was just found drowned in his own toilet!”

“Oh my,” Garak says. “What an unfortunate end.”

“Don’t play dumb. Not now. We know what you’re capable of, but we’re good people and we didn’t want to accuse a victim until we had exhausted the rest of our line-up. Only, interestingly enough, they’re all dead, so now…” she marches over with the fury of the Prophets on her heels and stands imposingly over him, her teeth clenched, “here we are.”

“That is interesting.” He runs a hand down a roll of fabric in his lap, smoothing it. “I suppose you must have some of that ironclad evidence that the Federation so treasures.”

Kira glares at him.

Garak feigns looking around. “Oh, but I can’t help but notice the good Constable isn’t here with you. What could that mean? Surely not that you broke into my quarters without due cause or a hint of warning–at your own word, not even to fix my glitching door. For all you knew, I could have been in here writing one of my vaunted Bashir epics.”

Kira’s hands are in fists now. “The evidence we have would be more than enough to have your face plastered on every viewscreen in Cardassia and you know it.”

“The Federation and Bajoran legal processes do seem a tad inefficient in moments like these, don’t they?”

“Okay,” Miles cuts in, because he has Turbo PTSD and is not in the mood for a flare up. “I think I'll just wait in the hallway, then. Holler if you need me. Good luck, Major.”

Kira and Garak spend a few moments watching him waddle out of the room and then go back to staring each other down. 

“Look, you ass,” Kira starts, “we couldn’t link every victim to the Cardassian government or some third-party organization, but we were able to link enough of them to recognize that these aren’t just random nobodies having ‘accidents.’ Someone was able to break into your computer and embarrass you and you don’t like that so you’re pitching a fit. I can’t have Odo arrest you – yet – but I can tell you to cut it out. This vigilantism isn’t helping–”

That gets a reaction. “Vigilantism!”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“Self-defense.”

“They attacked you?”

“Possibly.”

“Goddamn you, Garak! Just… don’t do this anymore, okay?”

Garak looks at her with innocent astonishment, like he’s still bewildered by her totally plausible accusations. “Well. You have my word, I suppose,” he says, bemused.

—

Gul Skrain Dukat. Blessed with a wife, seven children, two sets of living parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, minus one father. Habitually cheats with lower ranked military officials, slaves, and barely legal adults, unbenownst to his family. Father was interrogated by Elim Garak and executed by the Union over live broadcast in the year 2350 for the crime of being a piece of shit. 

Elim Garak was shortly thereafter levied with an amateurish execution attempt by Gul Dukat. It failed.

The second attempt will succeed, but at a great cost.

The Festival of Filthy Fucking Foot Fetishists has officially begun, but Garak is struggling to feel any enthusiasm. He is surrounded by his people. The station has been dimmed by 15% to better suit Cardassian eyes and misting stations have been set up in limited locations. Extinct and invented flowers crafted by Cardassian and Bajoran artisans decorate the banisters and doorways. A wash of blue, green, and sparkling gold lights up every direction. There is the smell of freshly prepared Cardassian sweets on the air, a gentle warmth suffuses the atmosphere, and children are laughing on the promenade. It’s the first time the station has felt not just tolerable, but nearly pleasant, in years. 

But then, Garak has never felt particularly welcome among his people. As a child, he was an orphan generously cared for by service workers and sponsored by a government official, and as an adult, he was a member of the Order, which granted him more fear and loathing than it did admiration and respect. Companionship, in its truest form, was a rare thing to come by and not something he was encouraged to come by at all.

Perhaps that is why Dr. Bashir blindsided him. 

In any case, Garak is delicately balanced on the line between proper misery and numbness. He gave up imbibing around the same time that he gave up the implant—or rather, the implant gave up on him—but he’s on his third cup now, wandering through the festivities with no particular direction in mind. The exact spot of this last operation isn’t important, only the timing.

He finishes his drink while a group play a spirited game of cold moba in front of him. It shouldn't be long now.

All the nearby screens suddenly flicker from the event schedule to Dukat’s sharp grin and Garak hums. There we are. He knew the bitch wouldn’t be able to resist showing his face.

“Welcome everyone to the biennial Festival of–” a baby wails, “generously hosted here on Deep Space Nine by Bajor and the Federation, and of course organized by our own prodigous Detapa Council. Ah, that wormhole… quite the view, isn’t it?”

Garak looks around for another food stall that serves alcohol. 

There aren’t any stalls in his immediate vicinity, but there is a young Cardassian couple marching towards him while making dogged eye contact. 

Oh no. 

Garak starts to make a break for it. Not too fast, it won’t do to cause a stir, but there are a number of very good reasons for him to stay far away from any Cardassians who might recognize him right now. Especially if the source of that recognition is those damn poems he was too stupid and sentimental to destroy.

Before he can make it more than a few steps, however, he looks up to see another few Cardassians working their way towards him, also making eye contact.

No, no, no.

He makes to move towards the stairs then, only for his eyes to land squarely on him. 

Him, wearing the silky green outfit he lovingly crafted for him a few months ago. Him, shining in the festival lights, casting him in an even more arresting shade of gold than usual. Him, looking determined and coming straight towards him.

Oh, fuck no.

“Garak,” Julian calls out, likely reading the panic on his face and stance and soul.

“Today, I am not a Gul, though,” Dukat is saying. “I am but a humble representative of the Cardassian Union in its totality, and as such, I would like to thank Colonel Kira Nerys and Captain Benjamin Sisko for their hand in this week’s festivities. They have been nothing if not accommodating these last few weeks while our coordinators ran rampant through their halls.”

He should have accounted for the possibility of this. Thinking of Julian had become excruciating as of late, but that was no excuse. Whatever interaction Julian had been hoping to have with him couldn’t be allowed, not now, and not only for the sake of Garak’s traitorous, disgusting feelings. Even if it would give the sweet man closure, it would not be worth his life. 

“Now, it may be a bit unorthodox, but I thought it would be only fitting if the first Reenactment was carried out by our benevolent hosts, and the Lakarian City Acting Troupe were all too happy to take them under their wing.”

More eyes are turning towards the screen now, the laughing and playing and sloshing of cups quieting down. Julian is nearly with him, his approach halted only by the gathering crowd, and Garak can only pretend to be interested in Dukat’s speech while he racks his brain desperately for a solution. Any solution. Anything.

“I trust that the history of Cardassia is in capable hands.”

The screen flickers again and changes to a shot of one of Quark’s holodecks, where a lone Bajoran man stands in a beam of red light.

A hand grabs Garak roughly by the arm, and he nearly cries with relief when he sees that it’s Lumok.

Well, Lumok with the face and attire of a Bajoran, but that ever-present spark of unchecked malice in her eye is quite unmistakable to someone who worked with her for over a decade. 

“Surprised, you ugly old regnar?” she asks under the actor’s impassioned opening monologue.

He sucks in a breath as the sharp edge of something presses into his back. “Impossible. They found your body caught on one of the station’s spires.”

“A simple bait and switch,” she purrs, pressing the weapon closer, slicing through his tunic. A pity. This was one of his nicer ones. “You’ve gotten sloppy.”

He manufactures a smile. “A knife, then? A favorite of yours, I recall, but terribly messy for such a public venue. Not to mention if your aim is even an inch off, I’ll be in and out of the infirmary within the day, as if nothing at all had happened.”

“Don’t lecture me,” she growls. “You can’t do that anymore. You’re not anyone to anyone. Your master is dead, and what did you do the second you were off leash for the first time in your life? You went and choked yourself on the first Starfleet sotl you could find. You’re pathetic.”

It took incredible effort to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his skull. “Oh, just stab me already.”

“I’m not going to stab you. I’ve done a bit of outsourcing, in fact.” She slid the knife from his lower back to his side and looped her arm through his, pinning him in place with a wide smile. “All I had to do was suggest to my new friend that you were infiltrating the Federation. That you were poisoning them against Bajor from the inside, uniting Cardassia and Starfleet in a secret alliance under the guise of wooing the CMO. No, no, you won’t be killed by one of your peers. Your death will be at the hands of a perfect stranger. A pointless death for a pointless man.” She leans in and whispers into his aural ridge, “It always was so easy to make people hate you.”

The next few seconds are a flurry of chaos. One second he’s watching as Human, Bajoran and Cardassian actors alike are all holding hands and reciting ancient poetry and the next he’s on the floor with a searing weight bearing down on him from calf to shoulder. There are screams and footfalls coming from all directions and Odo’s voice is immediately discernible shouting over the commotion. His back is on fire, he can’t breathe, and there’s a slash in his side, but he doesn’t miss the thump of Lumok’s body a few feet away, dead before she hits the ground.

“Garak? Garak?” the weight on him is speaking frantically, pawing at his head and shoulders. The weight shifts and the hands flip him onto his back. Those same hands pat him down, blazing a path down his chest and his stomach and his sides, stopping at the superficial gash near his rib, and Garak knows who this is before he even opens his eyes.

“Garak,” Julian sighs with relief. Garak was meant to be dead by phaser blast right now, but instead Julian Bashir is smiling down at him like he’s important, kneeling beside him, his hands on him, branding him with their incredible heat. It shouldn’t be possible. No one could be that fast. 

“Doctor,” he manages on a wheeze. One of his ribs might be broken, actually.

“Dukat,” Sisko growls from the monitor in billowing robes and a long flowing wig, surrounded by flowers.

—

“Explain,” Sisko commands.

Having decided that showing weakness right now can only help his case, Garak is sitting hunched to the side, holding his reeling head in one hand. It’s through a hiss that he replies, “A woman named Turora Lumok was responsible for sabotaging the station with those poems forged with my data signature. The Bajoran woman who was just assassinated–she was no Bajoran, but rather one of the last remaining members of the Obsidian Order. She was hired by Dukat to kill me during the festival under the guise of a hate crime. No doubt because of her indomitable reputation, I’m sure. A number of Cardassian casualties these past several days were at her hands.”

Sisko walks to the viewport to stare out into the stars for a moment, processing this. “All his talk of friendship between Bajor and Cardassia…” he trails off, the ghost of a sneer on his lips as he turns back around. “His goal was just the opposite. He wanted to destroy any hope of cooperation.”

“And get me out of the way in the process,” Garak grumbles. 

Sisko hums and wanders over to Garak’s side, looking down at him thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who assassinated Ms. Lumok?”

Garak stares at the floor through his fingers, his eyes glazed.

“Or who your informant is on Dukat’s involvement?”

“Captain,” Garak mutters, not looking up, “I have sat here concussed after an attempt on my life and shared with you everything that I know, and here you have not even told me who the tailor of your magnificent robe is.” He tugs half-heartedly at a strip of embroidery on the fabric. “I must admit, I am feeling a touch betrayed you didn’t come to me.”

Sisko flicks his eyes up to Julian, who has been standing in the corner with his hands behind his back. “Very well, Mr. Garak. I release you into Dr. Bashir’s care for now, but I expect to continue this conversation soon.” He massages his forehead. “Once I figure out what to do about this damned festival.”

Julian comes over to help Garak out of his chair, but Garak snaps upright and to the door before he can touch him. Sisko takes the opportunity to lean into Julian’s face and whisper, “Get more information out of him.” The doctor nods.

Julian isn’t angry when he steps out of Sisko’s office and sees that Garak is walking in the exact opposite direction of the infirmary, but he is disappointed. 

“Mr. Garak,” he says urgently once he’s caught up to the idiot.

Mr. Garak interrupts him in the same tone, “Now, now, my dear doctor, we both know I have a dermal regenerator in my quarters, so we need not extend–”

“And I think we both know this is about much more than a few bumps and bruises. I’m afraid the time for beating around the bush passed quite a while ago.”

“You’re right, Doctor,” Garak says, coming to an abrupt stop and rounding on him with wild eyes. “There is an urgent matter we must discuss.” Julian’s eyebrows raise, and Garak nods severely. “Oh, yes, let us not ‘beat around the bush.’ We should talk about how you threw yourself directly into the line of a lethal phaser blast on the one in a millionth chance that you might save my life. The cost of such an action being almost certainly your own life, and yet, here you stand, and here I stand. Will wonders never cease.” Julian opens his mouth, but Garak raises a finger. “Nevermind that I was in the middle of an altercation with a very dangerous, very volatile woman who would not have hesitated for a second to dispose of you. She had a nasty habit of that. Now I knew that you were naive, Doctor, Doctor! I knew that! What I did not know – what I never could have guessed after all these years – was that you are an idiot.” 

Julian stares back into Garak’s hissing face, unimpressed. Garak feels a wave of deja-vu and does not like it. It has no place here. And yet, Julian takes in a breath and smiles, raising his shoulders. “All right, Garak. If it’s really so important to you, we can talk about your suicide attempt.”

“What?” Garak bites out.

“You were going to let yourself get shot, yes?”

“I was n–” Garak starts to lie, disgusted, but is stopped by Julian stepping entirely too close. He stumbles back a step, then another when Julian attempts to crowd him again, and the familiarity of the routine has him shutting his eyes, rueful. They’re dancing again. It’s humiliating, the things this man makes him do, how effortlessly he can gain the upperhand. Most of the time without even having to lift a finger.

“You figured out Dukat’s plan and arranged for Lumok to die if she succeeded, but you expected her to. You didn’t expect to be saved,” the doctor tells his blank, unresponsive face. His eyes are still closed, his hands tense at his sides, but he knows Julian’s stepped closer again by the heat of his livid breath. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Very well. I didn’t figure it out. I was informed.”

“So, the captain was right.” He sounds bored, but Garak seizes his chance. His eyes open in a sudden burst of animation.

“Yes, I had an informant. I believe the major was familiar with him, a fellow by the name of Damoc who was recently presumed dead? Though I knew him far better as Mebol. We first met on Romulus, you see. In the event of my death, he had strict instructions to reveal Dukat’s plot in my stead and protect my remaining assets. In return, he was to receive some valuable coordinates, which by now he will have long accessed. I suppose he’s already booked passage off of the station, if he hasn’t already gone.” 

“Quick to abandon you,” Julian says, completely off-script. Garak’s carefully measured breathing stutters.

“Surely Captain Sisko would like to have a word with him.”

“I’m sure.”

“Doctor…” Garak says, lost. “There isn’t time to was–”

Suddenly there are two hands slamming into his chest like they’re iron forks and he’s a slab of meat, rocketing him back into the nearest wall with a loud thud. Garak gasps at the strength of it, astounded, but all his attention is quickly monopolized by Julian’s snarling words.

“Stop trying to distract me, Garak! Stop racing away before I can even properly get into the room, stop begging off lunch, stop ignoring my comms, and stop acting like your bloody life is over just because it was found out that you have feelings for me!” 

“I–I don’t–”

“Lke hell you don’t! Thirty-seven.”

Garak blinks several times. “What?”

“Thirty-seven. That’s how many direct references to our literary discussions are in your poems. All chronologically concordant with the dates of those discussions, and six of which from that classic Earth album I recommended to you a year ago that you swore up and down sounded like a pack of voles had been crammed into a bucket and shaken around. I knew you were having me on. You love Mitski, and you love me.”

Garak’s face shutters. 

Finally, Julian takes a step back. His hands remain on his chest, pinning him in place, but he allows him some oxygen. Exactly twenty seconds pass like this, before the doctor becomes impatient and huffs, “You can’t possibly have nothing to say.”

“What would you have me say, Doctor?”

“I would like you to admit it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve heard it from friends and coworkers and strangers and every tourist on this damn station, it feels like, but I haven’t heard it from you.”

Garak is silent for a long time. Finally, he quietly asks, “You would further humiliate me this way? Knowing what you do? My dear friend…” He, carefully, with only the gentlest of pressure, puts a hand over one of Julian’s. “Please. You’ve read everything I could possibly have to say. What more could there be?”

Julian’s hands are unforgiving, but his eyes soften at the simple lowering of the curtain. It’s not the direct confession he was looking for, the I love you completely, traitorously, ruinously that his poems professed and a deep, broken part of Julian desperately wants to hear, but it is, it is. For Garak, this is as explicit as it gets, and Julian can feel his heart trying to catch in his throat.

“Garak,” he starts to say.

Garak isn’t scowling anymore. His eyes are shining as he looks away and sucks in an aggrieved breath. “Oh, please, let us skip this excruciating precursor. I have no intention of remaining on this station.”

Julian goes unnervingly still. “Excuse me?”

“I will need time to pack up my shop and settle my lease, but then I promise, you will never suffer the consequences of my unfortunate… condition again.” When Julian only stares at him with mounting alarm in his lovely eyes, Garak grimaces. “You must know I had no intention of pursuing you.” At least, not after the implant had been shut off and he’d realized what horrors he’d stumbled into with the doctor while under its influence, and by then, it was already too late. He was too weak to stop speaking to him, but he was not a complete monster. “I wouldn’t have. My writing was never about nurturing the emotions, only managing them.” A bit of a lie, but only a bit. He does love to languish and he never could resist a good innuendo. Their friendship had been infinitely precious to him, though, and he couldn’t bear the slow death it would undergo now that everyone knew the truth.

The worsening rumors that would spread. The suffering of Julian’s reputation, career, and love life with the Cardassian spy’s drastic affections hanging over everyone’s heads. The danger it would place them both in, the damage it had already done. The way Julian would know every time Garak flirted now, it was never idle. It had never been and could never be. 

It would be a torture hitherto unthinkable. Better to sever the limb before it could rot.

Still, Julian is silent. The pressure on his chest is more a suggestion than a command now.

“Doctor, I…” he swallows back anymore hideous truths. “I apologize. Your rage is understandable, but I swear to you, I have every intention of righting this wrong.”

“Oh,” Julian says then, softly, as if he isn’t speaking to Garak at all,  “you don’t know.”

“Doctor?”

He makes a bizarre human gesture, skimming the heel of his hand off his forehead. “My God! Of course. I thought it was pride, or shame, or paranoia. Anything and everything but this, but of course you would be this ridiculous. Well. That’s an easy enough problem to solve.”

“Doctor–?!”

The hands on his chest are gone. Instead, they’re seizing him by the head and pulling him up to connect his mouth to Julian’s.

Oh.

If Julian’s touch was a brand before, this is lava running down his throat, into his stomach and down, down, down to eat through the twenty inch thick duranium floor. Slow, thorough, and final in its devastation. A transformation that cannot be persuaded. He grapples with it, hands scrambling stupidly over and across his doctor’s shoulders. Whether it’s to pull him closer or push him away, he doesn’t know. He’s too busy being brutally altered to give it much thought.

His hands settle for burying themselves in his hair at some point. When doesn’t matter. Time holds no power here. It happens, and then he knows how soft Julian Bashir’s hair feels, and there is no going back.

The loss of control becomes alarming enough that he finally manages to pry himself away, gulping in desperate, anxious breaths of frigid station air. It works. The fire and the madness that followed it calms down and he manages the strength to push Julian back, but the wet smack of their lips disconnecting will echo in his dreams for the foreseeable future, as will the dizzy grin on Julian’s face inches from his own. There’s a hand on his ass keeping him from tumbling through the hole in the floor and a couple unlucky passersby gawking at the gruesome scene and Garak is a different creature entirely, incandescent and strange, forged anew in the curious fires of mutual attachment. 

He feels insane.

“Doctor, you cannot truly be this naive.” 

Julian looks anything but naive right then. He can’t focus on that, though. He needs to focus on the fact he was nearly assassinated; the fact that the kindest man alive nearly died with him out of some misguided terran idea that all lives are of equal value and importance.

And yet, Julian is leaning in to kiss him again, so Garak puts a hand on his chest and says, “You know what I am.”

Julian’s expression turns complicated and it’s clear he understands. Garak’s roiling emotions can’t settle on being relieved or horrified. How to go on after this? After knowing intimately what he almost had, with the smoke of it still thick in his eyes and his throat and his heart?

A gentle hand on his jaw brings him back to the moment, where Julian’s eyes are serious. “I know,” he murmurs.

Garak sucks in a wet breath.

“The question is,” Julian continues, even quieter, “do you know what I am?”

His head is spinning. “Doctor?”

Julian just smiles sadly, and it's clear that there are some long conversations in their future. But for now… “About that dermal regenerator in your quarters,” Julian begins, and Garak is relieved to find out that whatever stupid, lovely thing he’s become can still appreciate an innuendo.

—

Not long after, in the middle of telling Sisko all about Mebol over Julian’s comm badge while its owner watches expectantly in a state of teasing half-dress, he’s horrified to find that whatever thing he’s become is also rather eager to please.

—

A couple days later, the two of them are picking from a generous cut of flaming taspar in the Replimat.

Or, Garak is picking, anyway. Julian is stuffing his face. Ordinarily, this would mildly scandalize him, but the fact it’s taspar, one of the most traditional delicacies of his homeworld, being shoveled enthusiastically into that pretty face makes it so he can feel only hope.

Rather than giving into that inadvisable feeling, he takes a dainty sip of his tea and tries to look nonsuspect. Cardassians from all sides and angles are staring.

“About Miss Leeta…” Garak begins.

Julian wipes his face with the side of his hand. Disgusting, but oddly compelling. “What about her?” 

“When will you be breaking the news to her?”

“Oh.” Julian smiles, bemused. “She knows.”

A tightness in his chest dispels slightly. “Does she?” he says faintly.

“She’s the one who first brought it up. We performed the Rite of Separation days ago. She said it was great timing, what with the festival and all. We didn’t even have to leave the station.”

“So you were together then.”

“Well, in a sense. We weren’t in love, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Garak takes another sip, lowering his eyes. “I wasn’t worried. Only concerned for the young lady’s feelings.”

Julian’s face is incandescent. A Cardassian to his far left is openly gaping. “Of course, of course.” He leans suddenly over the table then, moving a hand forward to rest on his knee. “So, should I take this line of questioning as an indicator that you’re open to a relationship with me?”

Garak shifts a little in his seat, moving his knee further under the table and its shadows, but otherwise doesn’t pull away. “It would be unwise,” he says quietly, without actually saying no.

The hand squeezes. “It isn’t as if people won’t assume anyway.”

“Rumors can be dispelled. Redirected. Altered.” He reaches forward to take a small saucière and pours a bright red sauce over a couple groatcakes. “There would be no coming back from a confirmation.”

Julian’s hand falls away. “Would it be so bad?”

“I don’t know,” Garak says, splitting a cake up into three neat sections. “Would it, Doctor?”

A Bajoran couple walks past their table then, and while one purposely avoids eye contact and seems to be giving them a wide berth, the other throws a meaningful glare Julian’s way. This is the fourth judgemental or pitying look he’s received since they came in for brunch. Julian calmly returns the look, refusing to be the first to look away, until finally the man averts his eyes and Julian looks back to Garak with a stern smile. Garak inclines his head.

“Be careful, Doctor,” Garak goes on. “Rumors can ruin lives. End careers.” He scoops up a bite of his cake, dripping with red sauce, and lifts it to his mouth. “Kill,” he finishes, and eats.

At that, Julian leans back in his seat with his arms crossed tight. Garak gives him his time. It’s a relief to have finally made a dent in Julian’s lovesick, idealistic conviction–and Garak can admit, after the last few days, that it is lovesickness. Julian’s decided he loves him back and there will be no stopping him from pursuing this, but there may yet be some tempering. A small, equally stubborn, sentimental part of Garak despairs at the whole horrid affair, but the behemoth of his good sense squashes this part down with little difficulty. 

It’s this moment that a smattering of young Cardassians, accompanied by one Jadzia Dax, arrive at their table. Immediately, Garak recognizes them as the ones that nearly intercepted his meeting with Lumok and his stomach drops. Julian, on the other hand, brightens back up.

“Well, hello there,” he says warmly.

Jadzia responds first, with each elbow leaned on a Cardassian’s shoulder and a knowing sparkle in her blue eyes, “Hello to you.” The Cardassians all echo with similar greetings, some shy, others giddy.

One young woman standing at the front, with her hair in three elaborately plaited braids and little makeup, is looking at Garak with particular interest. “You’re the one who wrote the poems about Julian.”

Garak looks at the girl coolly. “Do you mean Dr. Bashir?”

She goes blue. “Oh, um. Yes. I do.” She tucks an imaginary lock of hair into her perfectly coiffed hair and lowers her head respectfully. “My apologies, Doctor.”

“Hey now,” the doctor scolds with good humor, “none of that. We’re all friends here.” 

The girl throws another searching glance Garak’s way. “Friends?”

That’s enough of that. “This is certainly quite the surprise,” Garak says genially, plastering on his most pleasant smile. “Is there something you needed? As Deep Space Nine’s resident Cardassian tailor and reputed troubadour, I’m always happy to be of service.” Julian sends him a sharp look, which he ignores. 

Jadzia is looking as foxy as she ever does, with a grin nearly to her spotted ears. “Julian asked me to bring them here,” she says too happily, and Garak has to sit back in his seat to process that. Julian scratches his neck with a guilty smile, obliviously alluring. It cannot be overstated that there are, still, eyes on them from all directions and angles.

“Garak, sir,” the Cardassian woman-child begins again, earnest, “let me start over. My name is Inia Milam. I am the President of the Ivory State Liberation Library. We collect–”

“Madam,” Garak interrupts her quietly, stunned. “This is hardly the time and place.” He blinks, still shocked stupid by her brazenness, and leans towards her, peering into her distressingly young features with beseeching desperation. “And I am hardly the audience.”

Milam doesn’t appear to process his warning at all, though. She just continues to look inquisitive. She has that gleam in her eyes that is common in Cardassian women, calculating and intelligent, but there’s something else there. Something indefinable that he’s seen hundreds of times over an interrogation table, but without the fear to staunch it. Without the hopelessness. It makes his stomach flip. “On the contrary, you are exactly the sort of person we look for.” She bows her head. “Dr. Bashir promised that if we assisted him a few days prior, he would introduce us so that I could formally welcome your book of poems into our shelves. I apologize if this comes as a surprise. I wish only to thank you for your excellent contribution, E. G., and tell you that we hope to welcome many more pieces from you in the future. I’ll be in touch. Dr. Bashir.” She nods to him, returns his gentle smile, and walks confidently away. The rest of the group mirror her, voicing similar words of polite farewell and appreciation, and leave.

Garak forces himself not to track their departure and instead picks up his fork again, as if nothing world-shattering has occurred at all. The cake is tasteless in his mouth.

Julian is concealing nothing of his thoughts, however. He’s staring openly at Garak, as if he’s a bomb and he’s trying to figure out which color wire to cut.

Ultimately, it’s Jadzia that breaks the tension. “Well,” she says, “that is some harem you’ve got there, Julian.”

“Jadzia,” Julian barks. She laughs.

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing.” Uncharacteristically, her impish smile turns regretful. “Now that that’s out of the way, I do have to bring your friend in for questioning,” she says, and that explains that. “I’m sorry, boys. I stalled Ben as long as I could.”

Garak polishes off the last of his meal and takes one last gulp of his tea to wash it down. With that done, he stands with a placid, conciliatory smile.

Julian puts a hand on his shoulder before he can take a step. “I’ll come see you after my shift.” Those lovely, dark, deep eyes search his, pinning him like a moth above his fireplace. “Okay?”

Garak inhales. “Without end,” he murmurs, waits for Julian’s eyes to light in understanding, and then aloud says, “I am at your disposal, Doctor. Good day.” With that and a firm, friendly pat on Julian’s hand, he limps away.

Jadzia rather pointedly watches him limp to the exit for a few long seconds before throwing Julian a rakish grin. “Well, well,” she says largely. Julian pretends not to notice, and Jadzia pivots on her heel after Garak.

“Before we lock you up and throw away the key, could you sign my datarod,” Julian hears Jadzia asking, and he shakes his head, unsuccessfully trying to rub away his smile.

Without end Do I think of you and so Come to me at night. For on the path of dreams at least, There's no one to disapprove! Ono no Komachi

[eddiemunsonw]

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[maya1525]

Drunk Sex

18+ MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Yuji Itadori / Ryomen Sukuna & Totality

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader Receiving and giving oral, cream pie, blood, biting, monster/curse sex, alcohol use, drunk sex, rough sex, knotting. Fem!Reader gets fucked by a Shikigami if you’re not into monster stuff don’t read. I made an alternative part 3, without monster stuff if you’d rather read that one!

Word count✩࿐6.9K

BONUS✩࿐Sex in front of a mirror and some aftercare.

Summary✩࿐This is part 3 to my jjk series. Reading part 1 and part 2, isn’t necessary, but it is appreciate. Fem!Reader is at Yuji’s house party and Itadori can’t keep his feelings toward the reader bottled up any longer. Sukuna ends up taking over Yuji’s body part way through the ordeal and things get a little interesting; especially when Megumi’s Shikigami shows an interest towards the reader too.

A/N✩࿐Sorry for the long wait, I’ve been going through some pretty lame family problems. When Sukuna is speaking in Yuji’s head I highlighted his words in red and Yuji’s responses in pink. I hope you enjoy this fic. <3

Your head felt like it was spinning as you tried to focus your vision on the pong table right in front of you. You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had and you’re certainly too gone to ask for another. The cups on the other side of the table looked as if they were shifting. You knew it was the liquor in your system that was responsible for your impaired vision. You tossed the small ping pong ball towards the end of the table and made the shot by sheer luck.

“Woah, nice job!” Yuji smiled up at you in a drunk haze. The both of you decided to go one on one in pong, while everyone else was preoccupied. It was still early in the night since Yuji’s house party started around six. Megumi was in a heated discussion with Kamo while Yuuta ended up passing out on the couch. Your poor sweet Yuuta was the biggest lightweight at the party. Toge sat next to his sleeping friend while Todo was showing off his taste in music on the TV. Maki and Nobara sat on the bar stools next to the island, gossiping heavily. You could sense their slightly envious stares occasionally. Whenever you found the courage to talk to them, they sounded condescending towards you. So you decided early on to straight up ignore them and just focus on having a good time.

“Ok just watch this awesome trick shot I can do!” Yuji said excitedly as he tossed the ball upward and then punched it toward the cups. You could sense cursed energy coming from his fist as he pummeled the ball. The white plastic ball rocketed toward the red solo cups at record speed, knocking two of them over in the process. Water sprayed all over the table and onto your cute outfit. Thankfully the loud music in the room didn’t alert anyone of what just happened. No one except Yuji noticed. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry Y/n!” He ran over and helped you pick the cups off the floor.

Your wet clothes didn’t bother you, it shocked you at first but because of our drunk stupor, you got used to it right away. “It’s ok, it’s just water.” You smiled up at him, but his concern was still prominent.

“Here, come with me. I’ll help you dry off.” He took your hand and guided you up the carpeted stairs. No one saw the both of you depart; the pong table sat in the corner of the living room at the base of the stairs. Upstairs were the guys' bedrooms, while downstairs they had a shared living room and kitchen. You had a similar setup for your apartment. Except your bedroom was the only one downstairs next to the kitchen.

You felt grateful that the girls didn’t notice your soaked outfit, that would’ve been tremendously embarrassing. The both of you clung to each other as you climbed the strenuous stairs. Yuji led you to his bedroom and then to his bathroom. The both of you hung onto each other’s hands tightly as you stumbled into his pitch-black bedroom. He flickered on his bathroom's light. “Here, use my towel. I’ll get you a dry change of clothes.” He handed you his dark blue towel and quickly turned the corner back to his room. He ran into the door frame in the process. “Shit, there’s a wall there.” He laughed, making you giggle.

You eyed yourself in his mirror, your cheeks were a little flushed from being drunk, but other than that you looked hot! Despite being wet with water. You struggled to pull your shirt over your head because (you were heavily intoxicated) and your shirt was a tight-fitting black crop top. You stumbled backward and bumped into the wall behind you, a struggling whimper escaped from your lips. You managed to get the fabric over your head but your left arm was a little stuck. You panicked and tried to pull your arm out roughly, but you heard your fabric make a few threatening sounds tearing so you paused, not wanting to rip your cute shirt.

When Itadori entered the bathroom he was greeted by the sight of your plump breasts wiggling around as you struggled to get your shirt off. Your face was covered so you didn’t know he stopped and stared briefly. “Here, let me help you.”

You heard Yuji from somewhere nearby, “Oh, thank you.” You muffled out, as you felt his hot hands on your back. Goosebumps immediately ran all over your body, from being cold and wet. He gingerly removed the article of stubborn clothing, tossing it to the floor. He was so close to you, he gulped nervously. You looked into his sweet brown eyes with a kind smile on your pretty face, “Thanks for that, I was s-struggling.” You slurred and shivered at the same time.

Yuji’s mind was racing. When he was sober, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It drove him up a wall what a freak you secretly were. He couldn’t stop thinking about seeing your petite body getting railed by his friends on their couch. He felt so envious of his friends and Gojo; being fortunate enough to enjoy you inside and out. It wasn’t just your physical appearance that allured him, but your adorable and kind personality too. You acted like your sweet and innocent self whenever you were near him.

Itadori could tell how easy it was for his friends to fall for you and he too was slipping down that slope. It was difficult to ignore those feelings he had for you, especially when Sukuna craved you just as badly. Whenever you were near him, he’d hear Ryomen’s dark voice ring out in his head for Yuji to make a move or let him take over. Even during this moment, Yuji heard Sukuna pestering him.

Let me out! Are you going to make a move or what? Sukuna spat irritably. You’re such a coward.

Your jaw quivered from the cold, but because you weren’t sober you didn’t feel cold at all. It’s as if the outside of your body is on autopilot. You could sense the heavy sexual tension coming from your friend. Even though you acted like everything was normal; when you two were together, you’d notice a longing in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Or how his friendly touches became more intimate without meaning to be. The way his sweet eyes were staring at you now, you could tell he was burning up.

Without intending it, Yuji had you cornered against the wall while he was a few inches away from your half-naked body. “Y/n...” He trailed off as the liquor got the best of him. He pulled you into his chest without thinking. A surprised squeak left your mouth at your friend's bold action. He lowered his face so it was closer to yours, “Can I kiss you?” He blushed, while the look in his eyes was so needy and desperate.

Without answering or thinking, you tentatively brought your smooth lips to his to share your first kiss with Itadori. His grip on you tightened, and his lips moved against yours eagerly. Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t believe that this was happening. Lost in passion you tangled your fingers in Yuji’s pink locks, tugging gently - causing a gasp of excitement to come from his lips and into your mouth. You felt arousal overcome you like a massive tsunami wave, you wanted to know what sex would feel like with your friend. Or so-called friend.

Itadori felt ecstatic, it was finally happening! He felt a little ashamed that this was happening while you both were heavily intoxicated; would you kiss him if he was sober? The way you pulled his hair and kissed him back hungrily gave him hope that you would want to.

He lowered his hot mouth to your overly sensitive neck, as he pressed you against the bathroom door now. Shutting it in the process. He lightly teased his tongue down your neck, making you whine, “Itdadori…” his hot tongue caused a wave of intense shivers to wake on your skin. Your needy core clenched with desire. All while Yuji gently licked and kissed the crook of your neck, Sukuna was driving him crazy.

Let me out! I want to fuck her now!

Shut up dammit. Let me enjoy this.

He ghosted his fingers up your torso and to your breasts, delicately rubbing them. Earning a small gasp to come from you. He then sneakily stuck his hands underneath your bra to tease your nipple. Something hot and wet enveloped your breast completely. It felt like a mouth! This sensation both shocked and turned you on at the same time, you instinctively arched your back in pleasure “Yuji!” You gasped as you felt the mouth on his hand suck your nipple roughly.

The mouth gave you a small bite, “no sweetheart, it’s Sukuna.” Said a dark voice from under your bra. Yuji pulled his hand out to look at it with frustration, and you saw a mouth had visibly formed on his palm. The teeth that Sukuna had were fang-like. “Sorry about him.” Yuji sighed in a defeated tone.

“It’s ok.” You blushed, “I don’t mind him at all.”

“You hear that! She wants me, just let me have here already-“ Yuji slapped his normal hand over his palm with a pink tint of embarrassment on his cheeks. You leaned forward with a reassuring smile and pulled Itadori in for a passionate kiss. He gladly accepted and he darted his tongue into your hot mouth to explore it. As the both of you frenched feverishly, you cautiously grabbed Yuji’s wrist and guided his hand to your soaked skinny jeans. “Touch me.” You whispered against his lips.

Itadori felt like his heart was beating a hundred miles per minute, he craved you so badly. He wanted you to scream his name and become a wet little slut just for him. He hastily undid your jeans and pulled them down your smooth legs. You struggled to step out of your pants, you giggled as you clung to Yuji’s broad shoulders for balance. He smiled at you playfully and bent down to his knees to help you out. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at your sexy black lace underwear. Without thinking he removed that skimpy piece of fabric. He wondered if his friends also helped remove these panties from you. He felt proud to be a part of the club. Your pussy looked so appetizing to Itadori, he enthusiastically flung your thigh over his muscular shoulder and shoved his face to your core. His slick tongue swiped over your folds teasingly. “Mmh.” You whined desperately, thrusting your hips closer to his eager mouth. He latched down on your clit and sucked your sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt him bring two fingers to your wet entrance and slowly insert them. They immediately came in contact with your G-spot, making you cry out pleasurably.

Suddenly Itadori’s fingers transformed into something larger and bulbous, he pulled his face away from your leaking cunt with confusion and slowly pulled out his fingers. Only to realize his two digits had turned into a huge meaty dick with tattoos on it. You were astonished at how his body was able to transform into other body parts. “Sukuna...” He hissed under his breath.

You suddenly felt empty and horny to be filled up again. “Stick it back in.” You whimpered, looking into Yuji’s chocolate-colored eyes pleadingly. He couldn’t say no to you and plunged his parasite's dick back into you. He could feel your walls clench his thick rod tightly. Strangely enough, Yuji found it pleasurable, and his dick in his pants began to rise with excitement. As he pumped the lengthy appendage in and out of you, he brought his lips back to your clit to give it some love.

The feeling of having a dick pumped in and out of you while Yuji sucked your clit sent you over the edge. He rapidly pounded his handy cock into you, making you spread your thighs out wider for him. Everything about this situation was desirable to you. You threw your head back to rest against the door and stared up at the moving ceiling. You were far from sober, but one thing was certain, you knew that you liked what Itadori was doing to you. Without being aware of what your body was doing, you found yourself desperately trying to bounce up and down onto Itadori’s hand. Your body craved more and Itadori planned on giving it all to you.

He pulled the dick out of your needy little cunt and you saw that it was coated in your glistening juices. Yuji gave your stimulated clit a kiss goodbye and stood up to eye you hungrily. He brought the dick attached to his hand to your lips and you obediently opened up for him. His massive rod entered your hot cavern slowly, giving you time to briefly welcome him into your mouth. You sucked the hot tip of his dick first, tasting your arousal on him. Your tongue fluttered the around the head and then to the underside of his cock, guiding him further into you. Itadori could hear Ryomen hiss with pleasure in the back of his mind.

Yuji was more than turned on as he watched you make love to Sukuna’s manifested penis. His pleasure was linked to Ryomen’s in the most intriguing way. He was able to feel all the dirty things your tongue did to him. Sukuna managed to open his second pair of eyes below Yuji’s and form a mouth on Yuji’s upper cheek. “Good little slut, now take me down your throat.” He growled. His deep and sexy voice made you tremble with a sudden urge to please him and obey his every word.

You sucked his dick down your throat as far as you could let it, your vision began to blur with tears as you gagged on his thick rod. Through your watery vision, you happened to make eye contact with Sukuna’s fiery red gaze. His eyes glowed sadistically, causing you to whimper on his dick. The vibrations of your throat caused both Yuji and Ryomen to groan slightly with delight.

Itadori then turned you around and bent you over the sink roughly, while he kept Sukuna’s cock lodged down your throat. In this position you managed to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, you then focused your attention behind you. You saw that Itadori lifted his olive green t-shirt to expose his muscly abs. He placed the bottom hem of his shirt in his mouth to keep it up and out of the way. You heard Yuji undo his jeans and saw him spit on his dick to lubricate himself. He pumped himself a couple of times before placing the head of his cock to your slick entrance. You were more than ready for him. If Yuji was sober he would’ve teased you a bit more, but he couldn’t wait to take you. He was too excited and too drunk.

He roughly forced his toned hips against your bubbly ass cheeks. A loud groan of pleasure left his lips as he felt your hot warmth envelope him completely.

“Ohh, Yuji!” You moaned out, enjoying the delicious feeling of him filling you. Your walls clenched him greedily and he loved that, he could cum right here and now. But he wanted to make this moment last as long as possible. He brought his left hand up to your breast, and as soon as he did Sukuna’s mouth moved to his palm and sucked your tit viciously.

“Ahh!” You whimpered. Sukuna saw in the mirror how your pretty doe eyes welled up with pain and pleasure and that turned him on even more.

Yuji brought his attention to his dick pumping in and out of you slowly. He was taking his sweet time plunging into you, relishing how wet and ready you are - all because of him. He’d pull almost all the way out so the tip was barely in you. Causing you to shove yourself back towards him, wanting to feel him back inside of you. Then he’d stuff himself back in roughly, enjoying how your gooey walls welcomed him each time. Itadori then began to move into you at a steady and fast pace, he clenched his teeth on his shirt as he eyed your sexy body taking him. His stamina and tempo never faltered as he claimed your pussy. Each time he thrust into you, the dick you were sucking would jolt inside of your throat roughly. Which would cause you to weakly cough and choke on Sukuna occasionally.

Sukuna’s sharp teeth grazed over your soft breast and broke your skin. You were too focused on the way Yuji pounded deep inside of you, to realize that Sukuna was licking up the small droplets of blood from your breast. Itadori was able to taste the copper flavor of your blood on his tongue, he was confused and turned on at its taste.

You knew it should feel wrong to be intimate with someone who you thought was for a friend, but it didn’t. You knew that the both of you would probably have a discussion about this situation sober. But at this moment, your hazy mind chose desire over rationality. To put it simply, not a single thing felt wrong in you and Itadori’s dazed and horny minds. The way your saturated pussy squeezed Yuji’s dick comfortably as he thrust into you, made you feel like your body was made for his. Everything felt heavenly to the both of you; something this pleasant shouldn’t be inappropriate. The white-hot pleasure Yuji made you feel between your legs, threw your irrational thoughts out of the window. His long dick sliding in and out of you became a bit more wild and erratic, you could sense he was getting closer to his release.

You looked up in the mirror toward Yuji, his handsome face was slightly shiny from sweat. The way he bit down on his shirt feverishly looked so attractive. He then angled his hips up into you so he came in contact with your sweet spot, causing a gurgled moan to form around Sukuna’s cock lodged in your throat. His hips slapped against your ass rather loudly, as he dicked you down desperately.

Suddenly the mouth on your tit turned to a hand, and the dick in your mouth turned to fingers. Itadori’s cock inside of you felt as if it increased in girth and depth. Stretching you out in a painful and pleasurable way. The head of his dick rubbed against your cervix, causing a surprised whimper to escape from your lips. You looked at Itadori confusedly, only to see that the man staring you down in the mirror wasn’t Yuji; but Sukuna. The mood in the bathroom changed drastically into heavy cursed energy. The menacing man behind you shook you to your core. Goosebumps from utter fear rose all over your back. His red eyes glowed with intimidation mixed with arousal as he stared you down with a devilish smile.

“I didn’t want that punk to spoil the fun. Now it’s my turn.” He growled from behind you, ripping Yuji’s shirt off his muscular body. You noticed the elaborate tattoos covered Ryomen’s skin. Making him seem even more attractive and scary at the same time.

Sukuna then pulled his massive penis out of you, only for him to ram it back in with tremendous force. He shoved your entire body against the sink painfully. The hard marble edge of the counter dug into your hips as he folded you. You weakly tried to hold your body away from the sink with your hands, but Ryomen grabbed both of your petite wrists and firmly pressed them against your lower back. Helplessness washed over you as this curse pounded into your small body ruthlessly. Sukuna pulled his fingers from your drooling mouth and gripped your hair. He yanked your head back harshly so you could make eye contact with him through the mirror. Everything about this man was dominating, and that made you feel fear and arousal.

Once your body began to get used to his lengthy penis, getting fucked by him became more pleasurable. Sukuna watched as your pain-filled eyes switched to desire. “You like it rough, huh?” He murmured as you felt his iron grip on your wrists tighten.

Yuuta woke with a jolt, he could sense a tremendous amount of evil energy nearby. He stumbled off the couch, and could still feel his head spinning from the alcohol he drank a few hours earlier. Everything in the room seemed to be moving. Yuuta noticed that mostly everyone was gone, except Megumi and Toge who stood at the island in the kitchen.

“Do you guys feel the cursed energy?! Where is everyone?” He croaked, his voice a little groggy from his nap.

Fushiguro and Inumaki eyed him through their drunk stupor. “You wanna shot?” His dark-haired friend asked, he didn’t hear what Yuuta just said.

Yuuta shook his head ‘No’, “Where did everyone go? Where’s Y/n?” He said as he approached the counter.

Megumi finished pouring two small shot glasses with some harsh-smelling whisky, “They went to go get food.” He said as he passed one of the glasses to Toge. Both swigged the harsh liquid down in unison, and a scowl formed on Megumi’s face shortly after drinking it. While Toge drank the liquor with no reaction at all, probably because he’s used to drinking cough medicine all the time.

“Do you guys feel the cursed energy nearby?” Yuuta asked desperately.

“There’s no way a curse could’ve gotten in past the barrier.” Megumi slurred in an overly confident manner. “Tell ‘em Inumaki!”

Toge made an ‘X’ with his arms “Okaka.”

“But just to calm your delusions, here-“ Megumi brought his hands up in a shaky manner to manifest one of his Shikigami’s. “Demon Dog: Totality!” His massive Shikigami appeared in the kitchen next to his master, “Scout the apartment and make sure there isn’t danger.” He ordered the creature. “Feel better?” Megumi rolled his eyes towards the other dark-haired man. The beast then began to sniff around the kitchen and living room curiously.

Yuuta realized his friends were too far gone to sense the possible danger nearby, but having Totality out made him feel a bit at ease. Then the thought of Yuuta simply imagining that there was a curse close by crossed his mind. Maybe he’s drunk and his mind is playing tricks on him. Yuuta isn’t much of a drinker so it could be the alcohol in him that’s disorienting his perspective. He got a glass of water and sat back down on the couch for a brief moment to calm his mind.

Sukuna brought his fang-like mouth to the crook of your neck to bite and suck roughly, leaving painful red bites and hickeys on your sensitive skin. He removed his aggressive grip from your hair and brought his fingers down to your clit. His long fingers slid over your sensitive bud harshly, making your breath hitch with excitement. “Mmh!” You moaned in response.

Sukuna was focused on making you cum before he did, he planned on fucking you through multiple orgasms. He craved to make you his wet little slut. Suddenly the door tried opening but hit his thigh weakly. He picked up your small body and turned you to face the door. “Open it.” His deep voice ordered in your ear.

As he continued to ram into you wildly, you brought your hand up shakily to the doorknob. Opening it slowly to reveal Megumi’s black and white Shikigami. Totality’s face grew into a snarl as he locked eyes with Sukuna’s blood-red gaze. “That’s Fushiguro’s cursed technique isn’t it?” Ryomen hissed under his breath.

The beast brought his head up as if he was about to howl to alert his master, “It’s okay…” You cooed, as you brought a hand up to pet his fluffy head in a comforting manner. The beast’s ears flickered with appreciation as you stroked him kindly. “H-he’s not hurting me. It’s okay- there, good boy.” You gasped out as Sukuna fucked you harshly. You brought your fingers to the back of his ear to scratch him sweetly. The intimidating creator melted into your hands and now was as docile as ever.

Sukuna watched in astonishment as you managed to calm the curse without a fuss as he pumped his lengthy dick up into you. He brought his fingers back to your clit, which grabbed Totality’s attention. The beast watched curiously as his fingers slid over your needy folds quickly. Instinctively the creature brought his face close to your wet crotch to smell what was going on. “No…” You whined as you tried to shut your legs, weakly trying to prevent Megumi’s Shikigami from getting close to your private area. Sukuna watched you struggle with delight and forced your legs to stay open. “Come on, let’s see what’ll happen.” He growled in your ear, as he beckoned the fluffy creature with his slick fingers. Sukuna’s thrusts slowed down a bit as he let the Shikigami smell his fingers, the beast then licked his digits clean. As you watched the creature lick your juices off Sukuna’s fingers, you couldn’t help but feel slightly turned on at the sight before you. The beast licked his digits quickly as if it were a delectable treat.

The King of Curses patted your pussy to get the Shikigami’s attention to your folds, the beast lowered his mouth to your swollen clit and raked his long flexible tongue up it. “Ahh…” You whined as riveting pleasure washed over you, this was terribly inappropriate and you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it. How intoxicated you felt and the way the black and white monster flicked his fast tongue over your sensitive nub made you forget about what was right and wrong. Sukuna began to pound into you at a steady and persistent pace, a small hiss of pleasure left his lips as he felt Totality’s tongue lap over his saturated and heavy balls.

This entire situation felt forbidden, getting railed by the King of Curses while a Shikigami licked your clit, caused you to feel even more turned on. Sukuna’s cock stretched you out in the most delectable way, he slid in and out of you effortlessly. His tempo was rough and wild, he couldn’t help but admire the way your pussy squeezed him so tightly with each thrust. He took both of your hands and pulled them behind your back possessively, he held them firmly with his left hand. While his right hand pinched and pulled your nipples painfully. You were at his complete mercy, this man could do anything to you and there was nothing you could do or say to oppose him. Ryomen truly is the most powerful curse you’ve ever come across. Being so close and intimate with such a powerful being made you feel almost sinful… You’ve been trained to exercise curses, not get fucked by them.

“You’re a soaking mess Y/n… such a pretty little slut for me,” Sukuna growled from behind you, his dark voice caused shivers to run down your spine. His voice alone is terrifying, your instincts tell you to run away from him, but that would be impossible. You’ve never felt so slutty before, the fact that you’re letting the King of Curses fuck you has permanently tainted you. There’s no going back now. “Make me- ahh” You whimpered out in pain as you felt Sukuna bite down onto your shoulder. “Hmm?” He hummed with dark amusement, “What do you want me to do?”

The combination of Sukuna’s persistent rod plunging into you and Shikigami’s sloppy tongue on your horny privates sent you over the edge. “Make me yours, cum in me.” You moaned out in delicious pleasure as your walls clamped down on Ryomen’s dick, drenching him with your release. The way your needy cunt squeezed his cock so scrumptiously sent him into a thrusting frenzy, he fucked you through your orgasm as he chased his own. You felt him sink his teeth into your supple flesh, “Fuck, you will be mine.” Sukuna murmured as he slapped his muscly hips against your juicy ass. You suddenly felt him pulsate profusely as he released his massive load of seed deep inside of you. A guttural groan left his lips as he bit down onto your shoulder possessively, you could feel hot sticky blood drip down your cleavage as your shoulder stung with pain.

He popped his dick out of your pussy, his rod glistened with the mixture of both of your cum. The Shikigami immediately began to lick his cum coated cock clean as if it was a delicious frosting. Sukuna let out a hiss of pleasure as the beast's tongue continuously slid over his slick meaty dick. His cock pulsated with delight at the sensation. The black and white creature's tongue didn’t miss a single spot as he lapped his large tongue across Ryomen’s shaft, and then to his balls. He was still hard as ever and his release began to gush out of your wet cunt. The Shikigami directed his attention to your sloppy hole and started to lap up the white liquid abundantly leaking out of you like a fountain. A slutty whine left your lips as you felt the beast's warm tongue eat you out. “Ahh, good boy.” You whined out as his wet nose brushed against your clit making you enjoy the sensation even more. You were able to feel his long flexible tongue scoop into you at such depth, causing you to instinctively gyrate your pussy against the beast's eager mouth.

Sukuna was turned on at the sight before him; the lewd whimpers that escaped your lips along with the slushy sound of the Shikigami making a mess out of you, inspired him to go for round two. With his dick still slippery he placed his tip at your puckered hole. He greedily shoved his massive cock inside of you, causing you to moan out in discomfort. He stretched you out incredibly, you weren’t prepared for him which didn’t help much either. Before Sukuna could thrust into you ruthlessly, he was suddenly suppressed by Itadori.

As Itadori came to his senses he felt an incredibly snug squeeze around his throbbing cock. He realized that Sukuna had taken control without warning and he had his dick shoved up your ass. It took him all of his willpower to not plow into you, but by the way, your nails dug into Yuji’s thighs painfully, he knew his rod may be the cause of your pain.

“Ah-are you ok?” He choked out in pleasure as he gently began to nibble your earlobe.

You turned your head to the man behind you, his voice was soft and his red eyes went back to a warm brown, “Yuji?”

He nodded affirmatively with a small smile, his hands holding your waist carefully. “Should I take it out? If it’s hurting you?” He asked with lust-filled eyes, he clearly didn’t want to remove himself from your warm and tight hole.

The feeling of his twitching dick lodged up your ass while Megumi’s Shikigami tongue scooped the remaining cum out of you; causing your mind to buzz with pleasure. “It’s ok, but can we take this to the bedroom? I’m tired of standing.”

Without another second delayed, Itadori gingerly removed his raging dick out of you and whisked you up into his arms. Totality’s sloppy hot tongue flicked over your clit one last and licked his tongue over his muzzle to get your remaining juice off his wet face. Yuji hoisted you away and carried you into his dark bedroom carefully. He set you down on the bed. You heard the black and white beast fallow behind you two anxiously. A small whine left the creature’s mouth protesting against Yuji’s actions as if he wanted to eat you some more. Itadori’s lips crashed onto yours in a needy manner, as he half laid on top of you. The bathroom light illuminated his handsome features perfectly, especially the charming smile he’d make when he’d pull away from his needy kisses to just stare and admire you. Yuji didn’t want to admit it while he was drunk but he always thought you were the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met.

As you looked up at Itadori you could still feel your head spinning from the alcohol. His hands slid all over your body, causing goosebumps to rise and making your nipples pebble. He suddenly flipped you over with such ease a surprised gasp escaped your lips. He had you on top of him while he was lying down. With barely any effort he hoisted you up his torso so your glistening cunt was now hovering over his face. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he eyed your pretty lips, his mouth watered instantly and forced your thighs down so you sat on his hot mouth. His tongue teased your clit as he slid it feverishly across your sensitive nub. “Oh-Itadori…” you moaned as pleasure raked up your spine. He popped his tongue inside of your wet cavern and swirled it around deep inside of you. Just then you felt the weight on the bed shift and a second larger and sloppier tongue licked over your tight asshole. You looked back to see that Megumi’s Shikigami was on the bed, partially standing over Yuji’s body. The black and white creature continuously licked your puckered hole, causing an interesting wave of pleasure to wash over you. He slid his long flexible tongue inside of your hot and tight hole making you whimper out deliciously. Itadori enjoyed your cute little moans and gasps of pleasure while he and Totality ate you. You tasted heavenly to him, he couldn’t think of anything better than having you on his face.

With the combination of both their wet wiggling tongues inside of your privates, you couldn’t stand it anymore and drenched Yuji’s face in your release. He eagerly drank your juices, while Totality burrowed his head underneath you to get a taste of your cum on Itadori’s chin.

As you came down from your orgasm, you decided to return the favor to Yuji. You kissed a trail of hickeys down his muscular torso, and soon you were greeted with the sight of his raging rod. Itadori’s lust-filled eyes raked over you as his breath began to pick up with excitement. You sweetly enveloped his sensitive tip with your hot pouty lips. His velvety skin felt so soft and smooth under your greedy tongue. You coaxed him further down your throat quickly, so his entire length was lodged down your throat. “Mmm... Y/n.” He hissed out with delight as he threw his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying every second of your sinful mouth working on him.

While you were preoccupied with Itadori’s large cock in your mouth, you didn’t realize how the Shikigami positioned himself behind you. The beast smelt your privates curiously, you felt his hot breath waft over your slippery cunt. The creature gave you few a brief licks and pulled away, beginning to pant rather quickly. You focused your attention on Itadori’s delicious dick in your mouth, enjoying it when he’d tug your hair gently. You eyed the pink-haired man as he looked down at you with a look of pure bliss on his handsome face. You knew for a fact that things would never be the same between you, and you felt excited about this new relationship.

Suddenly you felt soft fur tickle your back as the heavy weight of the Shikigami mounted you. You felt his large claws wrap around your slim waist. He humped his large hot dick up against your ass. The creature was much larger than you and the thought of his huge monstrous dick inside of you made you nervous. Yuji couldn’t help but watch curiously as Megumi’s monster was clearly trying to fuck you. You tried to get up and push the creature off of you but you were much too weak. Plus with how intoxicated you were, you were in no condition to fight. “Y-Yuji, get him off of me, I don’t want him to-ahh!” The beast's massive rod was now lodged up your pussy in the most pleasurable way. He was too big for you, his size reminded you of Gojo’s. Except the Shikigami’s dick had an interesting curve to it.

Itadori couldn’t help but get turned on at the sight in front of him. Even Megumi’s beast wanted to have a go at you. The creature pounded into you ruthlessly, his speed was too fast for you to comprehend. This was the fastest you’ve ever been fucked before. He rammed into you like an animal. You could feel Totality’s hot breath pant over you as he fucked your tight pussy. If someone were to walk in right now they would barely be able to see you, your petite body was lost underneath the massive creatures and fluffy fur. Yuji’s bed creaked loudly, as your moans and cries of pleasure increased. Itadori got up to his knees and shoved his dick in your whimpering mouth. You needily sucked him as your entire body jolted by the Shikigami’s rough fucking. Your mind felt as if it were going a million miles per minute, you felt Itadori’s hands grip your bobbing head firmly. Which turned you on even more, having his dick down your throat gave you something to focus on. Your hot slippery mouth felt heavenly to Yuji, along with your muted moans which caused sweet vibrations all over his shaft. You loved the small groans that escaped his lips as you made love to his dick.

The Shikigami’s monstrous cock filled you up in the most inappropriate way; the way his slick penis greedily penetrated you at such speed made your voice get stuck in your throat. You felt your cunt squeeze the creature's dick deliciously as you felt your release begin to build up. The room was filled with the sound of your lewd muffled moans as you gurgled on Itadori’s dick.

Yuji’s warm brown eyes looked down at you with approval as you deep-throated him. He loved the way your pretty orbs welled up with tears as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. He emptied his load of seed deep down your throat aggressively, his hands still tangled in your hair. You drank him up enthusiastically as you couldn’t hold back your orgasm any longer. Ecstasy washed over you as you creamed all of the beast's bright red rod. You felt your pussy clench his large pounding dick deep inside of you. Suddenly you felt a massive amount cum shoot up inside of you as you felt a painful stretch in your wet hole. Totality managed to knot up inside of you. His large dick formed a pulsating bulb that made it impossible for you to pull out. You looked down at your lower stomach with panic to see a noticeable bulge inside of you. Totality’s mountainous cock caused an agonizing discomfort to your vaginal canal. You couldn’t hold back a pitiful wail, “Yuji!” You gurgled out desperately as you pulled your face away from his twitching dick, his cum dripping down your chin. “Get him out! It hurts!”

Yuji’s lust-filled eyes switched into concern as he came down from his pleasure-filled high, “Shit, it’s ok! I’ll ask Megumi to release his technique, okay?” He slurred as he hopped off the bed, scrambling to the bathroom to find his pants.

“There’s no need.” Said an all too familiar voice in Itadori’s doorway, Megumi walked in from the dark with a hungry look in his eyes. He reached out and patted his Shikigami’s fluffy head with approval, “Good job Totality.” He praised with a smug look, “release.” And like smoke the beast that was on top of you disappeared instantly. The excruciating feeling of the monster's bulbous knot inside of you had vanished, causing a sigh of relief to escape from you.

“How long were you standing there?” Asked Yuji breathlessly as he pulled up his boxers while entering the bedroom, practically glowing with pride. Oh how the tables have turned, Sukuna thought humorously.

“Long enough to know that I’d want to fuck her with you sometime.” Fushiguro held his gaze on your naked and used body; noticing the bloody bite marks on your shoulder. Then he directed his attention to his friend. Yuji came up to you with a towel and helped clean the cum, sweat, and blood off you. He was extremely gentle and cautious when he handled you. Making Megumi approve of his friend's treatment of you even more. If Itadori wanted to be one of your boyfriends, Fushiguro would have his vote.

“She seems like a good bit of fun.” Said another voice emerging from the inky black hallway. Causing Fushiguro and Itadori’s attention to shift toward the doorway. There stood Kamo Noritoshi, as he eyed you suggestively. Kamo approached you with such dominance, he reminded you of a more intense version of Megumi. He brought his hand up to your chin so you were now looking up at him. He noted how fucked out you were, along with the hazy look in your sultry eyes. “Damn she’s a little vixen” Noritoshi sighed, pulling away. He smirked down at you, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement, “With your permission, Fushiguro I’d like to join you and Itadori.”

“And don’t forget about me.” Snarled Sukuna.

Next

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

IS THERE A VERSION OF JOEL MILLER I WOULDN'T FUCK?

[a case study in how thirsty i am for this man.] [aka fic recommendations]

Unfortunately, in my extensive research on this topic, I have found some pretty damning evidence against my sanity.

dad's best friend!joel miller x fem!reader

Your Summer Dream [masterlist] by @swiftispunk It is a scientific fact that if you place Joel Miller on a beach he becomes 100x hotter. I don't make the rules, I just report them.

Creep it Real! by @swiftispunk I am a puddle. I melted and I'm a shallow pathetic puddle. Cowboy and Angel. I just hnnnnnggggg. I need him to ruin me pls dear god.

*I'm realizing if i include all the DBF!JM i read this will get very long, very quickly, and i think i have revealed enough of myself on this blog to highlight my very obvious daddy issues

**speaking of daddy issues...

stepdad!joel miller x fem!reader

Don't Be Cute, Be Nasty by @cockslutpadalecki i'm pretty sure this was the first stepdad!joel miller anything i read and it awoke something in my soul. it's always fun to reach new levels of my daddy issues and BY GOD was this just 🫠

Bad Girl [part i of many] by @seventeenpins he walks in on her while she's watching stepdaddy porn and good lord it gets filthier and filthier in the best kind of way.

boyfriend's dad!joel miller x fem!reader

Lost in the Dark [masterlist] by @iamasaddie i expected to be a slut reading this but then it made me an emotional slut out of nowhere i am obsessed. there is nothing i love more than being drawn in by my thots only to be hit by an emotional bus out of nowhere.

Thigh's Out AU [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity not only is this a boyfriend's dad AU, but said boyfriend's dad is a hot and slutty. just like i like my dilfs.

father-in-law!joel miller x fem!reader

Pink [masterlist] by @netherfeildren holy fuck. that's all. just holy fuck. this altered my genetic makeup.

Help, I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter spoiler alert: he takes her wedding ring off before dicking her down and I-- 👀 send help.

***i didn't think i had a lot of significant other's father!joel miller in my repertoire, but i had to stop myself again from listing them all on this one otherwise we'd be here all day. shit, i'm learning things about myself 🤡

dark therapist!joel miller x fem!reader

Session 1 by @elvinaa i think this only highlights how badly i need an actual therapist (as does this entire list actually).

sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader

Meet Me in the Back (1) & The Night is Dark Enough ... (2) written by @atticrissfinch It does not bode well for me that this version of Joel Miller made me so fucking feral. In no way, shape, nor form should a sleazy gas station clerk make me feel this way AND YET HERE WE ARE.

tattoo artist!joel miller x fem!reader

Honeyed [masterlist] by @softlyspector This one absolutely hits too close to home for me, but that's probably why I'm so obsessed with it. My touch adverse yet touch starved ass ate this up and left no crumbs😌

chiro!joel miller x fem!reader

Say Yes to Heaven by @pascalisbaby i thought the medical side of my brain would cringe at the doctor/patient dynamic but as it turns out my depravity knows no bounds 🥵

frat dad!joel miller x fem!reader

The Old College Try by @proxima-writes i didn't even know this was something i needed in my life until it came into my life. blessings🙏🏼

ceo!joel miller x fem!reader

Sex on Fire [masterlist] by @macfrog i don't think i need to harp on what that sugar daddy vibes do to me🤤

mafia!joel miller x fem!reader

Divine Dynasty by @cavillscurls Remember when I said putting Joel by a body of water makes him 100x hotter? The same applies to a Mafia AU. I can't explain it. I have no sound reasoning to support my claim other than "he hot tho".

pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader

I Know it When I See it [masterlist] by @bageldaddy 🔥🔥🔥 that is all.

maintenance man!joel miller x fem!reader

Maintenance Man [masterlist] by @gracieispunk toolbelt. say less.

slasher!joel miller x fem!reader

Slasher [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity i thought for sure, FOR SURE, this would be blind, pure, detached smut that i could enjoy with no emotional ties whatsoever. and then all of a sudden i'm feeling things??? he just loves his mom so much😭 mama's boy wants to be happy. JAIL. real jail for murderer joel miller. horny jail for me. and audacity jail for toxic b/c how dare you make me feel things for a serial killer😩

as i said previously, the evidence speaks for itself. i have yet to find a version of joel miller i could not immediately fuck. i'm actually planning (i have a lot of plans and no time smh), to go through all these on my recommendation blog w/play by play commentary so everyone can know just how unhinged i am for this guy.

but now!! you guys have a syllabus for my insanity!!

now, excuse me while i go find a therapist (a real one, not a hot/dark joel miller version of one) (although beggars can't be choosers right?👀)

dividers by @saradika

[munariplans]

Hello there, Your writing deserves a Michelin star. I eat it up every time and I’m NEVER disappointed. Thank you. If I may, I’d request (in a very polite and “no pressure” tone) a fic about Natasha and spider-reader regarding the Odesa mission Natasha outlines in The Winter Solider or a “first time” fic for the couple if you are comfortable.

Keeping doing what you are doing. You are great at it. In the meantime, I will be talking to Michelin about getting you more stars.

odessa | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request for the odessa mission above! plus a backstory and a little character exploration of our spidey!reader, wherein the mission highlights a little of their dynamic too.

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.4k words

a/n: i'm back :) thank you everyone for your patience, and i hope you enjoy this one.

masterlist

a thumb brushing over your own. her knee pressed up against yours. her scent calming your senses down. natasha was beside you, red hair a stark contrast to the all-black tactical suit. on her face, was a comforting look. she didn’t smile, but she didn’t need to. her being there was enough. 

“you okay?” you knew she knew something was troubling you deeply. but for the sake of the mission, yours and her sanity, and the engineer sitting behind the both of you at the train station, she didn’t ask. you thought she did it so naturally, being able to comfort you. 

you didn’t know it was taking all she had in her not to freak out. she wasn’t sure if this was what people did, or how best she could do to comfort you. she could only reciprocate what she found she liked best when you comforted her. but in the presence of everyone else, she couldn’t do the last thing you always did for her; pull her into the tightest hug and let the world itself disappear away. she knew the both of you needed to be half-alert, at least. 

natasha felt like she was the one breathing out a sigh of relief when the wrinkles in your forehead disappeared slightly, your own thumb rubbing hers back. “yeah, i–i’m fine.”

“do you want to talk about it…?” she was pushing her luck. 

you looked back at the engineer. he was asleep. the contact for the rental car wasn’t due to arrive in an hour. natasha looked back at him as well, and offered you a small smile, “ninety percent of the mission’s done anyway. simple in and out, get him transported back to SHIELD. makes me wonder why fury asked us both. maybe he felt guilty for sending you away on that undercover for so long; let us have a little bit of a workcation together.”

your mind was screaming at you; but you shrugged and gave her a smile back. “yeah. maybe he did.”

she didn’t know that you and her had separate missions, after all. while hers had been to sneak into the research facility and escort the engineer out, and transport him safely back to SHIELD, you had been informed that there would be…obstacles, in the way. you just didn’t know when.

you remembered the meeting with fury well. you had told him, that with such a statute and reputation the winter soldier had, that you weren’t confident of taking him alone, especially in a place so out of your element. but he had reassured you that you would be fine, and that you should focus on your own assignment when the time came, while natasha focused hers solely on the engineer. you had thought it wasn’t very fair. natasha deserved to know of any dangers, at least, that might pop up, but fury insisted that since it was one of her first few missions as a team lead, he hadn’t wanted to shake her confidence. you had no choice but to comply. 

turning your attention back to the hand holding yours, you squeezed it for a moment, then said, “when we get back, can we…just…have a break around the chrysler building? the rooftop, just you and me?”

natasha nodded. she understood. and she didn’t push.

—

when the three of you finally reached odessa, you sat with the engineer as natasha convinced the guards to let you through without passports. knowing russian, aided with a heavy handed helping of flirting and subtle lowering of her zipper, definitely did wonders. and while nervous as you were, spider-senses tingling all over for the winter soldier, you still managed to let out a less-than-annoyed tsk when she returned, taking great care to zip up the rest of her suit and glaring at the guards behind her. 

“careful,” she smirked, hand reaching for your cheek to turn your eyes to her, “they won’t let us through if they don’t at least find it believable that they can have me.”

“no one else can have you,” you replied, but she was already walking towards the car, hips swaying purposefully so, and another wave of irritation crept up upon you, “no one, you hear me?”

natasha waited for the engineer to get in, before chuckling and looking back at you. “are you getting in, spidey?”

when you had safely passed the borders and began driving on the snowy, white roads, natasha unbuckled her seatbelt for a minute, before pulling you in from your attention on the road to steal your breath with her lips. it was only when the cherry from her lipstick had fully melted into the heat of your mouth did she let go, panting just as hard as you were. you were very thankful the roads were empty. 

“god, i love it when you get jealous,” she muttered. 

to her displeasure, however, the engineer behind let out a disgusted scoff, and murmured, “you guys know i’m here, right?”

“yes, and we don’t mind returning you right back to HYDRA if you complain one more time,” you replied.

—

at a gas station pit stop, natasha knew it was wrong to pry, but she caught a glimpse of your wallet as you paid for snacks on the trip, and an old, almost-faded picture of a younger you next to an older woman was all that her eyes could zero on. you were in a new, freshly-ironed SHIELD uniform, and the woman had her hand on your shoulder, grin mirroring yours. natasha had never seen her before. 

you shut the wallet promptly after, and natasha trailed behind as you both returned to your car. 

about an hour into the drive later, with the engineer’s soft snores behind the both of you, and natasha’s own eyes drooping, she knew she had to keep the both of you awake somehow. 

“you can take a nap, it’s okay,” you told her, but she sat up, the sight of your wallet on the dashboard reminding her of her curiosity earlier. 

she angled her head to face you, admiring the older, finer lines on your face that grew more beautiful as time passed. the younger you couldn’t compare to the sight she was treated to now. 

“you always this good-looking, or did something happen when you were younger, to turn you like this?” she decided to start. 

a tint of red on your cheeks, you chuckled nervously. “um…i don’t think….no. i’ve always been like this.” 

“was SHIELD your first job?”

“my first job was when i was twelve. worked for a car mechanic near my place. then i took up newspaper delivery, then a restaurant, researched for my university, and a ton of other jobs,” you said sheepishly, “i wasn’t…that well-to-do.” 

she let her thumb caress your cheek. you relaxed a little more. “what did you study?”

“quantum physics. full-ride scholarship, or i never would’ve been able to afford those years.” 

then, after a beat of silence, you continued. “it was also where fury found me. recruited me to SHIELD intelligence then. i guess you could say it was my first official job. i wasn’t…uh…wasn’t supposed to be front-facing, you know? i wasn’t a combat agent or anything, just the intelligence. i was in intelligence for five years.” 

“what changed?” 

you looked at her through the mirror, eyes carrying an emotion natasha could not quite figure out. you looked away again, before sighing. “intelligence got bombed one day, everything was on fire. i was helping my teammates escape, was one of the last few out, and a burning pillar fell on me. i almost died then, paralysed from the waist down. i guess nick felt bad, that the medal of bravery he awarded could only do so much to my current situation. felt even worse when he saw my mother crying by my side. he gave me a second chance.”

“the spider serum.”

“it was experimental then, i believe the number of exclusion of liability clauses i signed reached the hundreds. i was lucky it worked. there were a few others…not so lucky ones.”

natasha reached over the console to where your leg was shaking, and she ran her palm up and down, helping you regain your sanity. “thank you for telling me.”

“it’s not–” you never finished your sentence, because in the next second, your senses overloaded with warning signals, and your hands moved quicker than your brain in swerving the car, the steering wheel jammed to the left so the bullets that you barely saw incoming landed on the car’s tires instead of the glass and right at the engineer. you remembered the engineer screaming as the car skidded off of the cliff, and you remembered jumping out right then to shoot a hanger web to save it from falling completely and crashing onto the ground. 

you groaned as you gripped onto the web, feet planted on the ground as you tried pulling the car back up. you have to be quick, quicker than this. he’s here, your mind ran through those thoughts, but your arms were burning. you pulled little by little, hoping natasha was protecting the engineer down below, and the car was moving. it was probably a minute before it was near the edge, and you had one last pull left to bring it up again. 

but of course, right as the wheel of the car barely touched the ground you were on again, a blunt force came ramming to the side of your head. you could hear the metal whirring of the winter soldier’s metallic arm as you felt the webs slip from your fingers, sending the car right over again.

—

luckily, the last of your webbings managed to catch on the railings of the edge of the cliff, preventing the car from crashing, but merely hanging precariously in the air. 

the blaring pain in the right side of your head was all-too-consuming, but you managed to recover and gather yourself quickly enough, to see him in full view, stature almost twice of yours, face looking down to where the car was hanging. then, the winter soldier raised his rifle, and taking aim, you flew off from where you were to tackle him, throwing him off as the bullet landed astray. he grunted in annoyance, fighting you off as you tried snatching his gun off of him. your legs were straddling his torso, holding him down as the gun was wrestled between the two of you. from below, natasha was holding onto the engineer’s arm, watching the fight as she tried to figure out an alternative escape plan; rather than merely relying on you.

but when the winter soldier felt the gun finally slipping away from his hands, instead of pulling it back, however, he gave one final grunt, before pulling you in. the air was knocked out of your lungs as he slammed the both of you against the railing, his metal arm then travelling to your neck, squeezing as tight as he could. 

natasha watched in horror as you struggled against his hold, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as the winter soldier began choking you. it didn’t look like a fight you could win, and her hand went to the handgun in her thigh holster, taking a leap of faith and shooting at him. 

the bullet riveted off his metal arm, but it was enough. the man took his eyes off of you for a moment, and zeroed in on natasha. unfortunately, it meant that he noticed the engineer behind her too, and immediately, he threw you off of the cliff, and came closer to her. she wished she had the capacity to worry about you, but she was immediately obligated to protect the engineer first.

she angled her body over his, heart pumping in her chest as the winter soldier took aim again. from how she was shielding the engineer, and the angle the winter soldier was at, there was no way he would have a clear aim. he wouldn’t take the shot. 

surely not, she thought, as his gun clicked. surely not, she thought again, as the look in his eyes became empty, almost as if he was seeing through her. surely not. he pulled the trigger. 

the last thing natasha could register was the burning sear on the side of her stomach, before she was falling straight into the sea below. 

—

on your end, you caught the moment right as the shot was fired, and immediately jumped off of where you landed to catch both bodies falling through the air before they hit impact and broke the surface of the water. while you were thankful that natasha’s distraction worked, it was even more horrifying to have to pull her body out of the water beside the engineer’s, your eyes fixated on the gaping wound on her stomach. 

you dragged them to shore, and it was then that you noticed both of them were bleeding out, the wound on natasha was bigger than you imagined, and the bullet was still lodged within the engineer, you were sure, as he grappled with a neck that was drenched in red. he was struggling to breathe, mouth opening and closing desperately as the blood loss incapacitated him. 

you were cruelly reminded of your own assignment to capture and / or kill the winter soldier, as you glanced upwards to where he was, half-expecting him to be gone already. but he was there, standing still and watching you. almost as if he was challenging you. the hatred rumbling in your heart could not account for the disappointment you felt in already failing the mission. he held eye contact with you, gun no longer aiming at either you or natasha, but instead tucked into safety. his head tilted for a moment, you heard a car pulling up a few seconds later, and he broke eye contact first. entering the car leisurely, he made his getaway without pursuit.

you contemplated giving chase, swinging upwards and taking him down. killing him with your own bare hands, for what he did to natasha, stuffing his own gun down his throat– 

natasha shuddered underneath you, and those thoughts were gone as fast as they came, replaced by the instinctive need to stay and make sure she makes it out of this alive. you gathered the first aid materials from the boot of the hanging car, cursing when you dug through the kit and only found the bare minimum. half a roll of bandages, stitches, and some antiseptic. barely enough to only keep one of them alive.

when you made it back down, the engineer was seizing, and you had to turn him on his side and stabilise him for a brief moment, the coldness in your fingers not merely from the frozen waters you had just come out of. natasha, clutching onto her side, managed to notice your dilemma, and the materials you had, and her hand reached out for yours. 

she was shaking, and on the verge of bleeding out, but her hands were more steady than yours. she knew. she shook her head as you began grabbing the antiseptic for her wound. 

“save him. they…they…need him more,” she choked out, eyes darting between you and the engineer, but the tears brimming in your eyes barely noticed it. you swallowed down a broken sob, looking between the two one last time, before making your final decision. 

fuck the assignment. fuck fury, and SHIELD, and anyone else who was going to punish you for saving natasha, anyone who even thought of saving the engineer over natasha, anyone who thought natasha was more dispensable than the engineer. you let go of natasha’s hand, and began working on her, despite her protests. the antiseptic splashed onto her wound, the stitches came weaving through her skin, you tuned out everything else to save the woman you loved first.

even the engineer groaning beside you. even his hand gripping faintly on your suit, him pleading, “i…have a family…a kid…back home. p-please.”

a kid back home. i’m killing this man with a kid back home. you were the worst person in the world, you were sure, as you spared a look at him, his lips blue and pale by then. natasha had used up all the supplies then, so all you could do was hold his hand, angling him at a half-sitting position against your body, and murmuring i’m sorry to him about a thousand times. 

“...please.”

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you were killing the main objective of the mission. you were killing an innocent man because of your own selfishness. 

his blood was on you, literally and figuratively, as your hands could only do so much to press against the bullet wound and try to prevent him from dying so soon. but it was imminent; he was never going to make it back, and you and him knew it. the bullet was still lodged somewhere in the back of his neck, and life was leaving his eyes. 

you held him until he took his last breath, still apologising. 

— 

when you reached out to check on natasha for a moment, her skin was getting colder then, too. the stitches and bandages could only hold for so long, and her condition would drop steadily if you didn’t make a move soon. there was no time to wait for help to arrive. so you made the final decision to rest the engineer’s body to where emergency services could easily find him, made a call for help, and promptly brought natasha home first. 

—

it was inevitable that you were suspended for almost a year for what you did. you had taken the brunt of the punishment, and volunteered to take natasha’s end of it too. fury had never looked more disappointed, and upper management had a field day berating you for your poor decision-making. you distinctly remembered one of them yelling at fury that you were the reason why they should implement a relationship ban among agents. 

you should have known better. you knew you should have done better, as well. more than blaming the winter soldier, everybody could see that it was your own self that you placed the heaviest blame on. the team also knew you would have almost lost yourself, if not for natasha. 

she gave you a second chance this time, making clear that you were the only one she would trust to help her get back on her feet, to help her heal. you were reluctant to ever leave the training grounds, to even let yourself handle any other mission other than getting back stronger and better, but she was there. she always was, and she ensured that you wouldn’t regret saving her instead, even if she also thought it had been a difficult choice. 

when you lay in bed each night after her recovery, tracing the scar on her stomach and killing yourself in your own mind, she would run through her fingers through your hair, reminding you to get out of the headspace. when you doubted your abilities even in training the younger agents, she would back you up. even when you made the weekly visits to the engineer’s home back in the states, helping out his wife and apologising for your failure to her family. she knew even supporting his child financially for the rest of his life wasn’t enough for you. 

odessa was probably the biggest failure in your career as a SHIELD agent. and there was no happy end, or satisfying outcome, you would have achieved then. but at least having natasha through the journey of your recovery from that, helped your growth and acceptance in part.

when she would be asleep beside you most nights in the years after, you would often sneak out and, in the quite space between your balcony and the rooftop of the building, tell yourself that you would have done the same thing over if you were placed in the situation again.

natasha liked to think of herself as cold, her personality and actions as impersonal as things got. she was never sure she was doing right by you, or able to comfort you as much as you comfort her. but clearly, she was quite the opposite.

most nights when you came back after your hours alone, pondering over the day of the incident over and over again, you would look at her sleeping figure on your shared bed, and think to yourself how no one was able to know you the way she knew you. no one came close.

she was your sanctuary as much as you were hers.

[tinypandacakes]

Banana Bread — Simon Riley x f!reader

1.7k words

Tags: Domestic fluff, established relationship, NSFW but not explicit, soft Simon, oral sex (f receiving, not described in detail)

A/N: Inspired by an ask from @chevygirl666 about Simon catching you dancing by yourself while cleaning. I was craving some softness ~ thinking about Simon coming home after a tough mission and the comfort you bring him 💕

Feel free to send me asks/ideas you’d like to see! sometimes I like to work on shorter things between fic updates :3

You blinked away the cobwebs of sleep as your eyes adjusted to the soft morning light streaming through the window, enjoying the hearth-like heat of Simon’s chest pressed against your back. It was so tempting to let yourself fall back into the creamy haze of sleep like this, to stretch out languidly in the shared warmth of a blanket cocoon.

You wanted to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist just a little longer. But, you had chores awaiting you this morning, long overdue.

You slithered out from under a heavy arm slung around your waist, moving slowly so you didn’t wake him. Normally Simon was alert the second you so much as shifted in bed, eyes sharp in an instant, a firm forearm braced possessively across your middle — stay, mine. But this was the first morning back from a long deployment.

Weariness was etched at the edges of his eyes and the dark smudges beneath remained even after all the black paint had been wiped away. The corners of your mouth pulled down into a frown as you scanned his face, seeing a few tiny half-healed scratches peeking through five o’clock shadow. There was a new crease between his brows from being pinched together tightly for too long in the scowl he wore when he was stressed — maybe this had been an especially tough mission.

You’d let him sleep as long as he needed.

You imagined this was the first time in ages that he didn’t have to wake up just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, when the remaining chill of night was pulled into his lungs with his first cigarette of the day. You liked to think of him watching the sky lighten in cotton candy hues, enjoying a quiet moment to himself, catching up on your messages sent several time zones over—

waiting to return to something familiar and soft.

You stared at him as you hovered at the edge of the mattress, his blonde hair catching the sun in golden highlights, lashes near-translucent as they fanned over his cheekbones, lightly flushed pink. His cheeks were more hollow than you remembered, his arms leaner, abdomen flatter and more firm. Deployment always stole a bit of his bulk and softness. It had nearly stripped him bare this time, leaving only lean muscle, what was necessary to get the job done.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him.

Maybe you’d make banana bread this morning with those too-brown-to-eat bananas that had been sitting on your counter. Let him wake up to something warm and homemade to replace the little layer of softness you liked to see over his stomach. He joked once about how you were fattening him up, but underneath the teasing, you saw a flash of something that caused your heart to constrict. The bit of extra weight meant he was home, meant he was safe,

meant he was yours.

Your eyes slipped over the swell of his pecs to his side — you hadn’t yet asked about the bandage there, taped near the bottom of his ribcage. There hadn’t been time with the way he’d immediately opened the door last night, scooped you up, and brought you to bed, your mouth far too busy to ask those kinds of questions.

You reluctantly turned away from him and plucked up the clothing littered on the floor, the evidence of your reunion and shared passion. Last night, he’d hardly undressed you or himself before he was on you, hands nearly trembling with pent-up need, mouth devouring yours with a single-minded intensity that stole your breath — but you’d wanted to see all of him, feel all of him.

But now, the clothes all went into the hamper, except for his shirt. You slipped it over your head, oversized on you, smelling strongly of him, crushed pine and dew-laden cypress underneath the lingering scent of smoke and sweat. With a side-eyed glance toward the bed to make sure he wasn’t watching, you lifted the collar over your nose, inhaling deeply.

Your bare feet padded softly against the floor as you made your way to the kitchen, the soft cotton of his shirt swishing against your thighs. The stack of unwashed dishes in the sink mocked you, as did the takeout containers on the counter, flecks of fried rice hardened into the styrofoam. You went to make yourself a coffee, grimacing at the few remaining clean mugs in the cupboard.

Good thing you were cleaning today.

You slipped on your Bluetooth headphones and started some music as you began to work, first mixing up the batter for your banana bread while the oven heated up, then set to cleaning the new and old messes.

You placed your phone to the side next to your mug. Occasionally you sipped your drink or changed the song, but eventually you found a rhythm when one of your favorite songs came on. Your lips moved silently to the words as you wiped down the counter of some sticky spill, exaggerating the movement along with wide swings of your hips in time to the beat.

But just when you expected the song to end, it began again. You stood for a moment in confusion and went to check your phone only to find Simon standing at the end of the counter, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low over his hips, your phone gripped in his large palm.

You gave him a sheepish smile, happy to see him of course, but—

“Don’t stop, darlin’,” he said, voice gruff, still thick with sleep.

Heat blossomed across your face, embarrassment burning the tips of your ears at his discovery. You weren’t one for dancing usually, not unless there were a few stiff drinks involved — and the right company of course. But Simon’s brown eyes were fixed on you intently. There was no hint of mockery or teasing in the way his gaze dragged up and down your body, taking in the view of you clad only in his shirt.

When he met your eyes again, you saw something molten there, simmering low in earthen shades. Your stomach flipped. You hesitantly began to move a little and resumed cleaning as he’d requested, keenly aware of his stare boring into you, prickling the back of your neck. But soon you relaxed and reached to give your banana bread batter a quick stir.

Two large hands gripped your sides suddenly, nearly making you jump as they slid up and down, bunching your shirt up around your hips. Calloused fingers dug into your softness, denting where you were most plush. Warm breath tickled the nape of your neck as Simon bent to you. He plucked the buds out of your ears so the music began to play on your phone for both of you to hear.

“I like seeing you like this,” Simon rasped, pulling your body back against his, a firm wall of muscle. “So soft and sweet, wearin’ my shirt an’ all.”

It was immediately apparent how much he liked it, the thick length of him pressing right up against you, only restrained by a thin layer of woven fleece. His teeth sunk gently into the crook of your shoulder as you began to rock your hips in time to the music more confidently, swaying side to side with his guidance.

“Fuck, I missed you, doll,” he mumbled into your skin, pressing a line of kisses into the curve of your neck that had your ass pressing back against him. “It’s good to be home.”

“I missed you too,” you breathed, words skipping as one of his hands roamed around to the front of you, over your navel and across your soft tummy.

Toughened fingertips lowered between your thighs. “I can tell,” he said reverently.

Your head tilted back against his chest with a sigh when his hand found the same rhythm as the song. Cleaning was forgotten, all your tasks for the day a distant memory as you placed your hands over his, yours so much smaller and softer, not scarred or battered, highlighting the vast difference between your worlds.

But here, in your shared space, none of that mattered. It was just you, just him.

The song passed and moved on to something slower, and Simon guided you to lean forward until you were bent over the freshly wiped counter. He pushed your shirt up over your back and peppered the length of your spine with gentle kisses, hands gripping handfuls of your plump bottom. Simon’s lips found every bit of sensitive skin, all your favorite spots to be kissed as he worked his way down until he was on his knees. His mouth ended its journey with a tentative lick that had you rocking forward, locked in place between the countertop and him.

The now-preheated oven beeped, pulling your mind away from the moment and back onto your to-do list, the batter ready to be poured and baked.

“Oh! That’s—Let me go for a sec, just gotta put in the—”

You squeaked at the gentle nip at the back of your thigh, a warning and promise in one, firm hands keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Hush,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to soothe the faint indent of his teeth.

“But it’ll literally only take two—”

Another stripe of his tongue over you had your words fading, dissipating into the oven-heated kitchen air. Your eyelids fluttered shut, lashes fanned out over flushed cheeks.

“Just…let me enjoy this, first, yeah?” he asked, words mumbled into soaked flesh. He rubbed his bristly cheek into the silken skin of your inner thigh. “Been waitin’ for this for weeks.”

“Mmhm,” you conceded, a wet, muffled sound with your mouth pressed into your forearm.

Simon was a man of his word — and he showed you exactly how much he had missed you, acutely attentive to every whimper, every twitch of your legs that told him there, right there. His lips and teeth and tongue proved his devotion, slowing only to tease you and work you back up until your hands were clawing at the countertop, knocking into the bowl beside you.

You pushed it aside and arched your back against the countertop, offering yourself fully. Simon squeezed you everywhere you were soft as he rose and pushed down his sweatpants. You peeked over your shoulder at him, lips stretched into an inviting smile.

The banana bread could wait — just a little longer.

Check out my AO3 or master list for more. :3

[zh-lele]

Oasis Part 1

In a hostile environment or in a sequence of unpleasant situations, an oasis provides pleasure.

▪︎Pairing: vampire!Doyoung x club dancer!fem reader x vampire!Johnny

▪︎Genres: supernatural, horror, smut, romance if you want to call it like that (it's not).

▪︎Warnings: mature themes; explicit sexual content, drugs and alcohol involved, guns, violence, death scenes and mentions of it, and some gore scenes. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

▪︎Wordcount for Part 1: ~16.8k words.

Author's note: hey everyone 👀 it's been ages. Writing this fic got out of hand lol so I split it into parts. This is all plot building 😭 more is coming. Also, the characters are sick to their heads so none of this is alright ofc and it's a twisted fic so if you are uncomfy don't read it! I rlly don't wanna bother anyone. Read pairings, genre and warnings before proceeding. And enjoy this first part! More is coming your way. Here's a playlist to kinda set the mood if you'd like. Tysm!!! 🖤

Who sees them walking around the city if they are all blind? They hold hands; something speaks between their fingers, sweet tongues lick the moist palm, run through the phalanges, and above is the night full of eyes.

01: words that will satisfy me

Lightning split the sky as the rain lashed the roof of the old bus, the drops seeping through the leaks, wetting the worn leather of its seats and spreading on the floor. You were lucky that public transportation was running that night and under those conditions, even more so considering that you had to be on time for your show at the casino—you couldn't afford to lose another night of work to torrential rains, even if it meant walking for forty minutes under the water from your house to the luxurious building.

The dirty streets of Seoul were already empty by the time you got off the bus, except for the old man you couldn't escape from even a single night arriving at the casino. While he wasn't inside, spending what was probably his last life savings on alcohol, drugs, and women (like most of the men you saw every night), he was living on the outskirts; under the big billboard of neon lights and on the fine and cold marble of the entrance serving as his refuge, along with a bed made of cardboard and an old, dirty mattress. Yuta kicked him out every night, especially the moment you arrived and he remembered the old man's presence due to the nasty comments he would give you, as you started up the stairs and toward the big golden doors.

Tonight was no different. Yuta left his position at the entrance as fast as he saw you coming and felt the old man open his mouth—although he didn't have a chance to say anything. As if Yuta could guess his intentions, he was in charge of throwing him in the hands of two high-security guards to the street and under that torrential rain; the homeless man's few belongings getting completely drenched, and causing the man to wail as he wandered off in search of a different place to spend the night. Only a series of what you assumed were complaints and curses came out of Yuta's mouth, in his native tongue.

Yuta lit a cigarette and didn't bother to return to his position. A quick wave of his hands was enough to have another man replace him, while he smoked under the cover of the water, resting momentarily from another night enriching his pockets in the largest casino in the city.

The look he gave you as you waited for this other man to read your work card was hostile as if Yuta could guess your intentions too. And he put you on alert for a moment.

He opened his mouth to speak. A cold ran through your whole body at the same time that lightning struck right on the building across the street, highlighting the silhouette of the Japanese above the violent discharge. He squeezed then opened his eyes, already too irritated by all the interruption, to continue:

"Go upstairs. Dry yourself up and put on some other clothes. Doyoung wants to see you."

"But my show starts at two o'clock."

"Just do as I say."

When the man at the entrance returned your card indicating that you could now enter, you hurried to walk on the red carpet, passing between round tables and banquettes padded with burgundy velvet. The smell of alcohol mingled with that of fine perfumes and that of the money, scattered on each table among glasses, cards, and chips, and also kept in the pockets and wallets of the rich.

The back pocket of your black imitation of leather pants buzzed, so you reached for an old phone, its broken screen showing a message from Soyeon where she attached a picture of a ladder; the red neon lights of a "V.I.P." sign shone above it. You wondered why she was at the entrance to the third floor—an exclusive place that humans like you and Soyeon rarely frequented. So you quickly typed a message questioning what that photo meant before going downstairs.

The club was located below the casino and just above the parking lot. The stairs were marked with neon green arrows indicating floor -1 if you went down—your designated place of work. It was a very different world from the casino. While above the gold metal-edged bars gleamed in the warm light of huge chandeliers, below the place could barely be defined; cigarette smoke obscured what little vision the red lights dangling from the ceiling provided, and the confines of the club were lost in darkness, making it easy to get lost in that dive for hours.

The floor was slippery from the amount of alcohol that had already been spilled throughout the night, and you had to be careful not to trip or injure yourself on a dropped glass bottle. It was hard to move through the bodies that wouldn't stop dancing and pushing and gasping for breath as the club got more and more crowded. But still, you made it backstage and to the dressing rooms where you and the dancers were getting ready for the shows every night.

You got inside in a hurry, making one of the boys that shared the stage with you get up from an old black leather couch and offer his help. "Girl, you need me to do something for you?"

"Please," you begged while looking at him through the mirror. "Can you get my suit and my boots?"

Without wasting a second, you started working on your makeup. Red and black eyeshadow that accentuated your gaze, and a lipstick that was about to run out after so many nights of shared use—bloody red is what said on the side of its cover.

The boy returned shortly after with your clothes in one hand and a glass of liquor in the other. He lit a cigarette inside the small space while you changed, his eyes following your every move. Only the music coming from the club filled your ears until you opened the door ready to go out and he questioned you.

"Where are you going? There's still five until the show starts."

"Yeah, I know but…" you hesitated on telling him. It wasn't a secret amongst the human workers that you and Doyoung kind of had a thing—they knew you fucked from time to time, but you had no clue why he wanted to see you at that moment.

Doyoung managed everything and everyone at the club and knew your schedule like the palm of his hand. Work had always been his top priority as well, so you knew for sure he wasn't going to make you show up late on stage. Still, you didn't want to raise suspicions about anything, didn't want people to talk too much.

The boy—that was named Ten and was the second nicest person you knew as soon as you started working at the club—raised his brows at you, growing impatient, making gestures with both his hands for you to keep talking.

"Doyoung wants to see me," you finally concluded. "I don't know what he wants, but it'll be quick."

Ten only hummed and reached inside of his platforms, taking out a small blade and putting it in front of your face. His breath, which smelled like mint and whiskey, brushed your face while he talked. "Be careful." And he hid the blade inside one of your boots.

Ten had been working at the club for years and knew vampires very well. Even though none of the vamps in charge had ever harmed him, he couldn't say the same for the customers who came from the outside. For this reason, he didn't trust them, and he always reminded you to handle yourself with special care, especially when he found out about you and Doyoung.

You gave him a nod along with a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind you on your way to Doyoung's office.

A long corridor connected the backstage dressing room to a mezzanine at the other end of the club. Suspended in the air from one side to the other, its tinted glass walls stretched to the roof of the club. Doyoung kept his office lit to a minimum, and the red lights outside it blocked all vision through the glass and into his office. This allowed him to have absolute control of everything that happened in his club, and to give orders without even having to get up from his chair.

You knocked on his door and looked above, at the corner of the corridor, letting the camera focus on your face. The door buzzed, indicating you were good to come inside.

Doyoung was sitting in his green velvet upholstered chair, facing the glass walls. A suit almost as pale as his skin accentuated his defined figure, even in that position. He turned to you, a welcoming smile adorning his face, and extended his left hand, the one not occupied with a glass feeding his vampire tendencies, inviting you to get closer.

He called your name before holding your hand and bringing it to his lips. A soft kiss on your knuckles, which left them stained with a slightly thick red liquid. "I'll be brief since I don't want to delay us in our tasks, but I had to tell you this in person."

He set his glass down on his desk and moved you even closer, positioning yourself between his legs. He looked over your body with his gaze and dared to open the fine, shiny cloth robe that covered it. He caressed the curves of your hip and passed the palms of his hands over the micro tulle that covered your abdomen until he stopped below your breasts.

"You will dance on the third-floor stage tonight, along with Soyeon," he finally said, his clear eyes piercing your dark gaze. "Whatever happens there, you must tell me. Don't forget who you work for."

You swallowed dry. So Soyeon was at the entrance to the third floor because the two of you would be working there that night. Dancing for the vampires. Anxiety quickly took over your body, and you felt your hands and feet start to sweat. You were lucky Doyoung couldn't notice that temperature change, or he would have given you away.

"Won't you be there with the rest of them?"

This was not going according to your plan.

He denied it with his head. His hands began to move again, caressing your back and reaching the edge of your see-through dress. He lifted it, you felt the cold on your skin, and he squeezed both buttcheeks, awakening the lust within you.

He took a breath of air that inflated his chest, causing the emeralds that hung rimmed in gold around his neck to rise and fall. He moved you at his will until you were sitting on top of him, your sex barely covered by a thong that resembled black leather in contact with his bulge, and you had to make an enormous effort not to forget the plan and take him right then and there. Getting rid of Doyoung would be much more difficult than you had imagined.

"Don't forget who you must be loyal to."

02: this is not a threat

It is important to create eye contact with the audience when you are performing. That was never a problem at the club, with its stage right in front of Doyoung's office. And while you couldn't see him from your place, you knew that he was always watching you from above, so your gaze was directed most of the time towards his tinted windows. He helped your concentration and allowed you to focus on the dance. On the third floor stage, however, you felt quite lost; too many things happened there.

In the club, just a large group of mortals huddled under the smoke and red lights, paying little attention to what was happening onstage. In the vampires' cave, distractions were everywhere. The white lights that illuminated the stage blinded you from time to time but still allowed you to make out the scenes. Vampires sipping drinks at the bars, smoking around a game of poker, passing through heavy velvet curtains, going in and out of small cabins with humans who had a job other than yours. Some came staggering out of there, like drunk on something and wiping their lips, while others just came out arranging their clothes to resume their activities around a table or on the small dance floor.

But despite everything that was distracting, you were forced to make eye contact. You felt a presence, someone's gaze heavy on your figure, hidden in a dark corner of that exclusive area. The lights spun illuminating him for a split second, but it was long enough for his amber eyes to finally find yours. From that moment on, you felt attracted to the man as if you were magnets. You went down the stairs of the stage and walked between the chairs and tables, making some of the vampires who hadn't paid attention to you yet turn to look at you. Not for a second could you lower your gaze from his or focus on anything other than dancing for that man.

He was sitting in the middle of the round table smoking a cigarette, looking a little too relaxed for your liking. His white shirt was slightly ripped, revealing a barbed wire tattoo that stretched from clavicle to clavicle on his chest; below, on his right pectoral, a spider tattoo. Resting the weight of his body on a semi-extended arm holding a cane, looking too vampire-like under your eyes. His tattoos seemed to end on his hands: a floral engraving on the back that contrasted with the phrase on his fingers: be afraid.

You got on that rounded table on your hands and knees, not caring about whatever game was going on between the rest of the men and the women who sat with him. You wanted to seduce him, that you knew. And he didn't seem to mind, because when a tall, blonde guy got up to protest, this man silenced him with a simple gesture of his hand. You thought it had to be a common thing amongst these vampires—they held so much power they didn't even need to use many words. So you danced the rest of your choreography for him, felt and touched your body as if your hands were his until the music ended and the lights turned on again.

Reality came down to you as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and you landed on the ground in your black platforms after getting off the table. You felt incredibly out of place, yet an incessant throbbing between your naked legs and this man's gaze on you was sending your mind into a spiral. You had no idea what just had happened.

His deep voice cut through the air in that cave—like lightning from the storm outside the casino. A chill ran down your back for the second time that night.

"No one tells Doyoung about this."

But he didn't mean it for the rest of the people seated with him—he knew they would remain silent.

He meant it for you.

Soyeon appeared next to you with her hands full of bills, and she began to push you in the opposite direction while addressing this man very politely.

"Please excuse us, sir." But it sounded highly strange to you, she didn't talk like that to any of the vampires, not even to Doyoung. "Thank you very much, sir. Ladies, gentlemen." She bowed and you followed automatically before the two of you started walking behind the stage.

"Who was that?" you asked once the two of you were alone, inside the luxurious dressing room of the third floor.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You saw her undress hurriedly and change into her regular clothes, leaving the little dress–the same one you were wearing—inside her backpack, then starting whipping out all her makeup to re-do it into something different, more relaxed.

"I kinda felt like it, yeah," you finally replied, after processing how you unashamedly danced in front of that man and all of his friends, being so evident that you wanted him—as if you didn't have a thing with Doyoung. As if you weren't the little dumb human fucking the man in charge and everyone knew about it. "Who was that man?" you insisted.

"Seo Youngho," she hissed and looked at you with narrowed eyes as if it weren't obvious. "He owns the casino. He owns like, ninety percent of the clubs left in Seoul, actually. Friends call him Johnny."

Your plan was to become one of them, then kill them all and keep the fortune. Survive the fate that seemed inevitable. Defeat the decay of the world and humanity through that eternal immortality, as the vampires had done through each of the crises in history.

You were shocked, your face losing all color and your legs almost giving out when you realized that all this time you were after the wrong man.

When Doyoung hired you, he made it seem like he was the real leader. And everything seemed to indicate that he was. Because you knew Yuta, you knew how the rest treated that vampire—but it wasn't half the respect they had for Doyoung. From the countless nights you'd spent with him and been woken by his phone at any hour of the morning, you knew that most of the responsibilities fell on him as well. The fact that it was the first time you were hearing about this Seo Youngho after almost half a year working at the casino only made the situation more unbelievable.

"And you danced for him," Soyeon continued, her expression between a mixture of shock and amusement. "Holy shit. You literally felt all of yourself in front of his eyes."

"I know," you recognized with difficulty, taking your head in your hands while you sat in the chair; soft and padded compared to the garbage where you sat every night, in the dressing room on floor -1 "Please stop reminding me, it was embarrassing."

"It wasn't embarrassing!" she contradicted, "It was fucking hot. You never do that shit when we dance at the club."

"Of course not!" You straightened your back to look at her and denied with a disgusted face. "I don't want to seduce any of the bodies that frequent the club. Those are disgusting."

"Right, you want to seduce vampires." She pointed one of her makeup brushes at you, and golden dust flew across the room. A complicit smile adorned her face. "You want to seduce handsome, sexy, and rich vampires. You'll be collecting them? I know you have one already."

There wasn't any malice in her voice, none that you could notice. She left it there and went back to stand in front of the mirror to apply a clear lip gloss that made her face even more attractive. She wasn't looking for an explicit answer. Even if she only wanted to mess with you, you still weren't convinced you could trust her—or anyone inside that casino.

And that's why you were scared. Scared to death that she or anyone else could tell Doyoung what happened earlier. Because yes, he wasn't the most powerful of them, yet he could still do whatever he wanted to you and no one would even go looking after you. That's how the dynamic worked. That's why it could be a vampire's world.

Youngho's words resonated inside your head as if he was whispering in your ear.

"Youngho said something when our number ended," you decided to confess. Maybe out of fear, to test your luck and try moving in this new direction, or to risk your plan along with your life. Soyeon turned around and raised his brows at you, expectant of your next words. "He said not to tell Doyoung."

A knock on the door exalted the both of you. Soyeon looked in the direction of the sound, then down at you, same spot on the couch. She smiled with her lips sealed together, the tips of her thumb and forefinger joined and moving from left to right over her smile. She winked at you after walking to open the dressing room's door.

A rather young man leaned out from the other side, a bottle of champagne in a cooler and two glasses in hand. His bright red eyes quickly scanned the room and settled on your figure. "Youngho wants you at his table," he said. "Both of you." And he moved his eyes to Soyeon, who quickly looked at you with an excited smile, then turned back to the boy. "He also sends this. Says to enjoy yourself and get there whenever you feel ready."

The young vampire left the champagne and the glasses in Soyeon's hands after she greeted him with a polite 'thank you', and closed the door.

"Very good," she turned to you, ready to open the bottle. "I also want to go hunting for some handsome, sexy, and rich vampires."

—

Sitting on the velvety cushions and sharing a table with the vampires you learned that everything you thought you knew about them was actually nothing. Only two of them were the most talkative: Donghyuck, the young vampire they sent with the champagne bottle to get you and your friend, and Taeyong, a slightly older-looking vampire you often saw with Yuta or Doyoung. While Donghyuck concentrated mostly in annoying his superiors and catching Soyeon's attention, Taeyong was surprisingly kind to you, trying to engage conversation about various topics.

"I was studying in Tokyo to be a designer when I met Yuta," Taeyong said while pouring himself another glass of blood. "We met at a fashion exhibition. I remember he was wearing a three piece suit that looked very expensive. He introduced himself, Nakamoto Yuta," Taeyong made his own impression of the Japanese vampire you knew from greeting him every day at the casino's entrance. And it was on point, his deep voice and accent rolling out of Taeyong's lips as if he had been observing the vampire for an eternity now. "He liked my work and said he wanted to support me financially. You can imagine what I thought it was about."

"Thought he was offering to be some kind of sugar daddy?" You asked him, taking a drag from a joint and passing it back to Taeyong.

Taeyong nodded his head. "I thought I had to sacrifice my body for it," he said, then paused for a moment to reflect on his words. "I mean, it's not like I didn't like him. He was actually really hot," he finished in a whisper meant for your human ears only.

The white haired vampire laughed it off, looking a bit nervous after such a confession. Yet Taeyong's laugh was adorable and contagious, much so that it distracted you from his red-stained lips and teeth every time you saw his mouth open to a big smile.

"But I was really, really wrong about him–"

"I could hear you talking shit about me all the way from the first floor."

That deep voice characteristic of Yuta cut off Taeyong's story. His eyes found the Japanese approaching the vampire table, behind your field of vision. However, his presence sent a shiver down your spine—the idea that any of them could be listening to what you were talking about when you least expected it horrified you, and it was enough to bring you back to reality.

You weren't there because they were nice and wanted you to know more about them, to become close. They must have been using you somehow, and you had to find out their true intentions as quickly as possible so that they couldn't take advantage of you, but you could take advantage of them.

"Yuta, you're so nosy!" Taeyong accused him, pointing his index finger at him and then crossing his arms, half indignant. "I was just telling my new friend the story of how I met you and the guys."

The Japanese vampire collapsed into the free space on Taeyong's other side. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his long red hair before fixing his gaze on you: his brow furrowed, and his eyes full of judgment on your figure at the table. "Doyoung's human?" he asked, sounding slightly confused.

Taeyong opened his mouth to reply, yet it wasn't his voice that gave the answer to Yuta's question.

"She's my new favorite."

It was Youngho's.

He got up from his place and walked around the table until he was positioned next to your figure. He bent down until he could whisper in your ear—a proposition to come back with him, to his apartment, right in front of everyone but especially in front of Yuta, who was still judging you from afar with those furrowed brows.

You feared Yuta didn't trust you like the rest of the vampires seemed to do. You feared he could smell your true intentions, somehow get in your head and know you were doubting every move, every decision. You were ashamed because you knew he could definitely hear your conversation with your boss and his leader even if you were whispering to each other. And you were expecting he wouldn't tell Doyoung you actually said yes to Youngho, that you'd love to go back to his apartment that night.

The night at the vampires cave seemed to come to an end when you found yourself in the passenger seat of Youngho's luxury car. Since your friend Soyeon and Donghyuck left in his own car seconds before, it was only you and Taeyong in the private parking lot, waiting for his boyfriend, for Yuta, and Youngho to get in.

Contrary to your experience with Doyoung or even with Yuta, you never had the pleasure of getting to know Taeyong in depth, and that was because you didn't really have a chance to interact despite a formal greeting when you passed him in the casino. But you were left both alone and drunk on many substances in the car, and you found out you definitely enjoyed his presence way more when he's not wearing a serious and intimidating expression, and when his huge eyes turn bright and he laughs at everything you say.

Taeyong made you feel like, if you were given the chance, you could form a beautiful friendship.

"You don't seem like the other girls."

"What do you mean?" You asked Taeyong, who was sitting behind and across from the passenger seat, stretching your neck to the side and resting it on the headrest so you could face him more comfortably.

"Every girl Johnny has been with has only wanted one thing," Taeyong answered. He took a deep breath and there was again, the serious, almost scary expression on his face that you knew him from. You gulped dryly, hoping it could go unnoticed before he continued. "To take advantage of him and what he owns. And my friend is a good guy, he really just wants to love someone before the end of this fucking cursed world, so he just lets them in, you know?"

The sensation of being exposed drained your face from all its blood, probably making you look pale even under a thick layer of makeup. You felt embarrassed thinking Taeyong had read you and figured you out perfectly, so much that you couldn't look him in the eye anymore. Nonetheless, Taeyong kept telling you how good he felt around you while you tried to believe that he was being honest with you, and not actually trying to induce you in some sort of manipulative game.

When fighting against an organized group, you don't need to attack them nor defeat them all at once. It will take one of the parts—only one of them to be the weakest and the beginning of their own downfall.

You wanted to believe Taeyong was the weakness.

Beneath all the beauty and luxuries that Taeyong carried around, his hard expressions but also his sparkling eyes, and most importantly all the substances that were dancing inside his body that night, your drunken mind considered there could be a soft heart that spoke the truth. And you didn't want to get carried away with that sweet, biased best friend talk and forget about what you really planned to do tonight—which was for sure not to fall for any vampire.

So as much as he would let you get closer to them, you would let him believe your connection was genuine.

"I don’t want you to do the same to my friend." He smiled at you.

You were about to reply, to reassure him you're not like the rest of the girls, when he turned his head to the window at the sight of a tall and very handsome guy walking in your direction, followed by Yuta and Youngho. Taeyong's smile didn't fade. In fact, it only grew bigger when the tall boy opened the door, ready to climb into the back of the car.

"Please don't get scared if you see my boyfriend or any of my friends snorting a line in front of you," Taeyong turned to warn you.  "They're just weird like that."

"Tae, we don't do that in Johnny's car," the guy scolded him as the car was getting crowded. He held a bottle of vodka in his hand that he hurriedly wanted to finish before you got on the road and to Youngho's place. A long drink and he tossed it to Taeyong, who took a sip, squeezing his eyes shut at the burning feeling down his throat and then he handed it to you.

"It's fine with me, anyway," you inform Taeyong, accepting the bottle with a subtle smile. "It's what I usually see around the club…"

"Yeah, of course she's fine with it." The tall guy laughed and gave Taeyong a knowing look that you caught through the rear view mirror. "Stop putting on an act, Tae."

"Shut up, Jaehyun! You're the one acting. I just don't want to scare her away, I like her!"

"You won't like her more than you like me, though." The tall guy—who's name you learned was Jaehyun—got a serious expression sending Taeyong that warning, with only a small hint of mischief in his tone, very hard to catch if you didn't pay enough attention.

But Taeyong must have known him very well, because he laughed awkwardly at Jaehyun's comment which made him smile pretty lovingly, dimples showing and eyes going into the shape of two crescent moons in Taeyong's direction.

"You two make me want to throw up," Yuta said as he closed the door, squeezing Taeyong, Jaehyun, and himself up in the backseat and only confirming Jaehyun had to be the boyfriend Taeyong was talking about earlier.

"It's not us what makes you want to throw up, Yuta." You heard Jaehyun's voice while he spoke facing the windshield. "It's all the blood you mixed up and drank tonight."

The bottle of vodka was almost empty in your hands when Youngho arrived, occupying the last empty space behind the steering wheel. One second he was turning on the engines, and the other you were tasting the iron of a quick, chaste kiss he planted on your lips and in front of everyone inside the car. He bit your lip before breaking the contact, and your blood mixed with the remains of what Youngho had been sipping all night that managed to transfer to your mouth. Then he turned around to ask, "Are we all continuing this at mine?"

"Drop me near my place on your way," Yuta was the only one to speak, his tone colder than his looks and the lack of temperature around the vampires. "I don't want to be part of any of this."

03: chaos

Soyeon and Donghyuck didn't waste a second from the moment they walked through the front door of that luxurious apartment. Kissing violently and obstructing their way into what seemed like a room, they moved without separating from each other to breathe, attached as if they were feeding on each other. In contrast, Taeyong and Jaehyun walked in completely relaxed; Taeyong with his arm around Jaehyun's shoulders, and intertwining their fingers in a way that almost moved you. You remembered Taeyong's words in the parking lot and wondered if love could really exist inside such cursed creatures.

Youngho looked tired after collapsing into the big leather couch in the living room, bottle of whiskey in hand. He opened it and poured four glasses, which you took as an invitation to join him and circle around the small table, along with the other couple.

There was a golden tray covered in white dust that looked ready to be used at any time. The first was Taeyong. He set up the line, brought his face close to the tray, and you heard him inhale the cocaine. After that, it didn't take more than a split second for him to finish his glass of whiskey in one gulp. And even though you knew it took a lot to intoxicate a vampire or alter their senses with some mundane substance made for human consumption, you were surprised how Taeyong didn't even flinch; not a sign of a slight dizziness, nothing. Jaehyun asked Youngho for a refill for his glass, and when he finished it, he and Taeyong said a hearty goodbye before retiring to the second floor.

Youngho was a man of few words, you had learned in the hours you had spent with him that night—even though you had already lost track of time. Your old cell phone had been left behind in the dressing room at the club, long before you saw Doyoung, and long before you met Youngho and your whole plan was completely ruined. Looking outside couldn't give you any clues as to what time it was either, since the sun hadn't shone in weeks.

The sound of the incessant storm was barely drowned out by the music from a vinyl that Youngho had just put on. He returned to your side on the couch and, again, he didn't need to say much: the vampire handed you the tray of cocaine, you inhaled a line, and he finished the whiskey straight from the bottle. That tired expression he wore before was suddenly gone; as he watched you recover from the dizziness, it had been replaced by one that could be mistaken for euphoria, or maybe desire.

Your head felt extremely light, and your body was on the verge of losing control and letting yourself be carried away by the melody playing in the common area of that huge, cold, and dark apartment.

As if Youngho had been reading your thoughts, he asked:

"Dance for me."

His throat, probably irritated by all the alcohol consumed, made his voice reach your ears deep and attractive, awakening chills throughout all your skin. And you obeyed, of course—it was your job, and he was your actual boss. On top of all that, there was the possibility of desperately wanting to dance for Youngho once again.

Youngho pushed the small wooden table away, moving it with his leather boot on it without a care, making room for you to dance right in front of where he was sitting. Arms and legs outstretched as if he were in paradise, Youngho made you feel that if looks could kill you would probably already be dead—eaten alive, drained from all your blood. And in some twisted way, you couldn't help but enjoying it: the feeling that even though they could have whoever they wanted, there were two the vampires who continued to choose you over the others—who had you as the object of their desires. Doyoung did it regularly. And you had to find a way to make Youngho want to do it too without getting killed.

You could hear the sound of the fire burning the paper that wraps the tobacco, and the room quickly filled with its white smoke coming out of Youngho's lungs. The music that was making you dance wasn't particularly sensual—the melody and the sounds made the situation of being in the vampire's house even more macabre. Still, you tried your best to impress Youngho, who was huffing and running his hand through his hair restlessly, as he watched you with the same eyes that had mesmerized you in the casino. They looked brown, normal one second, and bloodshot red the next. You thought it was a consequence of your drunken state that it altered your perception of things, or of the desire that you felt existed between you.

Your outfit that night left nothing to the imagination. You were still wearing your performing clothes—a see-through dress and the set of faux-leather underwear that you assumed had been tempting the vampire in front of you all night. He wasn't leaving much to the imagination either. The tent on his dressing pants were giving you enough confidence to take it a step further.

You turned around, trying to follow the beat of the music. The hem of your dress rolled up the curve of your ass when you squatted down in front of him. You heard him groan over the music, and the sound of ruffling against the black leather couch. It made you smile when you turned your head to the side and saw him out of the corner of your eye, struggling a little with his hard-on. So you got your knees and the side of your head to touch the cold, white marbled floor, while maintaining that eye contact that was so mesmerizing to you. You opened your knees and broke your back to have your ass moving up and down in front of Youngho a couple of times, then straightened your back to finally get rid of the thin and shiny tulle that caressed your skin.

It was when Youngho lost it, grabbing you by the arm and turning your body around to sit you on his lap. "Keep dancing," his voice came out raspy and desperate.

The tension, the strange beat of the music and all the smoke accumulated in the room squeezed your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe, and if something didn't happen in the next few seconds you felt like your heart might explode. Even when you tried to remind yourself to not fully give in to him and lose control, you couldn't really concentrate on what you were actually there for. You felt like you had accepted leaving with Youngho for a different reason, far, very far away from fucking him. Nonetheless, that seemed like the only thing you could really think of at that moment.

A whine came out from your mouth when you felt his hands touching you for the first time and pushing you even closer to him. And when he squeezed your ass to place your clothed sex right above his bulge you gasped, your lungs purified with clean air, as if something had been restricting them all this time.

It was that feeling again—a downforce pulling your body down, feeling as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and your brain processing reality way too fast for your drunken state. An incessant throbbing between your legs, extremely turned on by the vampire under you, and you having no clue of how you actually ended up in that position.

Because yes, of course you remember what happened that night. You remember going to talk to them at their table, then getting into one of their cars and talking with Taeyong, accepting the drugs from Youngho and wanting to dance for him… But you didn't work like this. You've never worked like this. Every move and interaction had to be absolutely thought out and premeditated and this—it just felt totally wild, like you were out of it when you were in front of Youngho. Just the way you felt when you saw him at the vampires cave, back at the casino.

Despite looking the most young and fresh above the majority of them, given his position amongst the vampires at the club, you assumed Youngho was probably one of the oldest, if not the oldest of them all. You wondered if he was really that powerful; there was the possibility that he was messing with your head, you'd read older vampires were able to do so even to humans.

You thought he was absolutely insane when you felt the cold air hit your nipples and then his warm mouth attached to them. He let you grind on top of him, while you tried to contain your moans and to concentrate on what you actually had to do, that was getting out of there before you were food for vampires.

Your plan was screwed. Youngho being the leader of them changed everything you had been working on for months, even before you got your job at the strip club. You thought you had him, but there was a high chance that he was just using you to benefit from you somehow. Either it was getting on Doyoung's nerves, feeding from you, or just to get his dick wet—this wasn't about you. You needed to make it about you.

You needed to have control over the situation again. Change the plan and keep moving as soon as possible, without being suspicious. But Doyoung was already too involved and, fuck—he wasn't the vampire you had to get with, and you knew he was already kind of attached. You could said he had feelings, you knew that was possible for immature vampires, so you had to deal with that too and–

"Care to explain what this is for?"

You felt the blade pressing into the skin of your neck, threatening to cut just above your jugular if you made even the slightest movement. Youngho shook your head and tightened his grip on the nape of your neck even more, the force he exerted there beginning to ache and the sharpness of the weapon demanding a response from you more than the fear and adrenaline you knew were giving you away, no matter how hard you tried to stay calm.

You closed your eyes and silently cursed Ten for giving you the stupid razor, and yourself for accepting it even when you knew a little blade would be a waste of time when it came to vampires. You cursed yourself for being so careless after months working to get to this point—not in the way you really wanted, though.

"Five seconds to explain yourself before I kill you," he talked from under you once again.

Your eyes met his, no longer changing from brown to red but fully bloodshot now, and looking more scary than ever. You gulped one time and decided to speak—it's not like you had another choice anyway.

"It's because I work at the club," you managed to get your voice out. "I'm not sure if you know, but most of the men there are nasty." The words came out as fast as you could, but the anger on his face was telling you he wasn't having any of your bullshit. You concluded your lie struggling to maintain eye contact. "Wouldn't be the first time someone has to defend themselves from them."

Youngho loosened his grip on the back of your head and lowered the razor from your neck, only to caress your body with its sharp tip, tickling your skin as he ran it across your chest, the curve of your breasts, and your abdomen.

"Nobody dares to enter my house with weapons, you know that?" He applied more force to the blade against your skin. "Who the fuck you think you are?"

"It wasn't to hurt you," you dared to say, chest breathing heavy under the movement of the blade. "I swear I'd never think of using it on anyone. It's just to scare the guys from the club away if things get ugly."

The blade stopped on the flesh above your left clavicle, right besides where a scar was placed. Doyoung wasn't used to feeding on you, saying he didn't like it and that it wasn't what your relationship was about. But sometimes you would let him, when the moment would get too intense and you noticed that he was fighting too hard to control his tendencies. He was happy getting drunk on your blood from time to time, and he rewarded you with amazing sex and aftercare. All that was left was a little scar in that spot. Youngho laughed looking at it, and you felt the sting of the edge cutting the skin, then his tongue licking the blood that emanated from the superficial cut.

He hummed satisfied after getting a taste from you, and his fangs rubbled the zone before he spoke.

"I don't believe shit you're saying, my darling."

Even though you had imagined a moment like this before, with the most important vampire of all making you his in every way, you prepared yourself for the worst outcome. There was no chance you were getting out of there the way you wanted it.

Yet the surprise of a door being opened violently interrupted Youngho, who was about to open your chest in two, and his gaze focused on a scene behind you. His face deformed rapidly, and his expressions were no longer covered with desire and hunger but full of fury and anger. Even though you had no idea what was going on at your back, you were internally grateful that you weren't the cause of the sudden outburst of the vampire.

"Johnny, I think I messed up."

Donghyuck's voice managed to get to your ears when Youngho got you off his lap and shoved you to the other side of the couch. He got up in a rage, and you took care of calming your breathing in silence before he could remember that he was literally about to kill you. You heard Youngho start to mutter to Donghyuck, but you were too busy checking the small cut on your skin that kept bleeding, staining your fingertips every time you touched it.

"The fuck have you done?!" You heard the older vampire scream this time, and when you looked up he was pushing a Donghyuck completely covered in red back, causing the boy to hit the wall and become unbalanced. "You know we don't do this here, it's strictly forbidden."

Donghyuck stood outside the room he locked himself up earlier. Barefoot, only wearing a pair of briefs and the blood dripping from his mouth, painting his neck and chest a deep red. He was trying to explain something to Youngho, yet your mind couldn't concentrate on anything different than the scene inside of the bedroom.

Soyeon's body was on the bed. Her neck hanging off the edge with her eyes open, a terrified look penetrating right into yours. She must have been full of fear, is what you thought as you saw the fresh blood covering her neck and the champagne-colored bed sheets—now stained in red. An open wound on its left side that had stopped bleeding. Donghyuck must have sucked her dry.

"I damn Mia for turning you, Donghyuck, I really do. You're nothing more than a pain in the ass," Youngho said, and you watched him start to dial a phone number from your place on the couch.

Donghyuck seemed like he didn't care much as he started heading towards where you were sitting. You tried to move back even further in place by drawing your legs to your chest, clearly scared of what he might do to you. This was not the way you thought you'd die. But he simply stopped at the small wooden table and took out a cigarette.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything to you," his mouth barely opened to speak, as he tried to hold the cigarette between his lips. He lit it up, inhaled all the tobacco smoke, then let it out to mix with the heavy, tense atmosphere. His lips left the filter painted with your co-worker's blood. "Yet." He finished talking with a macabre smile, and even dared to wink at you.

He quickly scanned you up and down, suddenly reminding you of the situation you were in with Youngho before he showed up and making you feel utterly exposed, so you crossed your arms over your chest in the best attempt to shield yourself from the hungry eyes of the young vampire.

"You're not doing shit more than taking care of this mess," Youngho spoke to Donghyuck as approached the scene. "I called Mia, you'll do it together. And be fucking reasonable while doing it. I don't want to see her on the news tomorrow because she was found laying in an alley."

"And what do we do about her?" Donghyuck asked while pointing at you with the cigarette. "Can't you make her forget? 'Cause I doubt you really wanna deal with another dead body."

Youngho stared at your body for a few seconds, thinking. Donghyuck waited for an answer, shifting his gaze from his boss to you, and you could feel Soyeon's eyes, dead but full of fear on you all the way from inside the bedroom. The smell of blood emanating from there and from Donghyuck's dripping mouth was beginning to be nauseating and the music playing from the vinyl threatened to drive you crazy.

"She doesn't need to forget," he finally said. Then he pulled your blade out of the back pocket of his pants and threw it forward, the little weapon landing on the couch right next to you. "You don't fuck with vampires. Consider this a lesson."

04: through the storm

Check the window. Watch the raindrops fall. Take your hand out and feel the water in your skin. Wipe the humidity with your clothes. Check the time—it's been twenty-six hours and thirteen minutes since you left Youngho's house; twenty-five hours and two minutes since you left Kun's apartment with your hands stained with blood. And try not to lose your mind. Check the time only one more time just to make sure you're not disconnecting from reality.

Not even a minute had passed since the last time you unlocked your phone to do that.

The wind from the storm that had been going on for days suddenly became more violent, whipping your face and forcing you to close the windows of the house, leaving you in the dark after the candles have gone out. The dim firelight between your trembling hands lighting cigarette after cigarette was the only tangible evidence of your emotions at that moment. The room quickly filled with smoke as the wax burned back onto the table, and that poor light allowed you to summarize what you were doing.

Your eyes scanned the thick paper, reading the information that had been kept from you over and over again. National Intelligence Service, printed in blue ink, and a 'classified' red stamp just below it.

Serial 090295-127. Name: Seo Youngho - Alias "Johnny".

A voice resonated inside your head, almost torturing you, and you feared closing your eyes in case you'd be reminded of the events of the past hours.

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone? Are you that naive?"

Address: Unknown. Jurisdiction: Seoul. Additional info/scars/tattoos/weapons/etc.: tattoos of a barbed wire on his chest; hummingbird, beast, and wild leaves on his left shoulder (colored), spider on his right pectoral, flower arrangement in his right hand, letters on his fingers. Master hand-to-hand combatant. Masters various supernatural powers (includes supernatural strength, speed, super bionic hearing and vision, telekinesis, mind control.)

Two checked boxes under that information:

Suspect. Previously arrested.

The rage would make you tremble and break a cold sweat that dropped down the sides of your body. You closed the blue folder violently and you piled it on top of the rest of the documents carelessly. Yuta's, Taeyong's, Jaehyun's, Doyoung's—all of them—and tossed them across the room to somehow deal with the irritation. The papers that keep track of the vampire organization's crimes up to a year ago, before Qian Kun was fired for not agreeing to stop investigating them, flew through the air and landed next to the pile of clothes you took off just a couple of hours ago. The candlelight hardly reached that area of the house. Still, it was enough to illuminate the red stains on your white fur coat, and remind you of the scene you left behind at the retired cop's house.

You can't really say that it was premeditated, although you can't really say that you simply acted out of a violent impulse, or a nervous one, or whatever. You wanted to finish off the bastard, just not under those circumstances. After finding out that he had only been lying to you and using you to catch the vampires first, and that by hiding information as important as who their true leader is, he ruined the whole damn plan you were carrying out. You thought the bastard deserved nothing more than to die right away.

Kun's apartment, in a crumbling building just a couple of streets from the casino, had become an exact replica of the Seoul police investigation office after he was kicked out. Target pictures pasted on the walls, phone numbers, bank account aliases, contacts from all around the world, photos from outside and inside the casino—you name it. The man studied the vampires who ruled the casino day and night.

When Kun arrived in Korea from China, he was a newly recruited police officer hungry for justice in a dirty, corrupt, and dying world. He had followed the vampires who had their illegal businesses in China and, frustrated by all the obstacles the authorities put to judge them, he decided to go in search of the root of the problem. Kim Doyoung, was what he told you the night you met him in the old bar where you worked and where Kun often went to drown his sorrows.

Kim Doyoung was supposedly the man in charge of the biggest chain of clubs and casinos in cities like New York, Los Angeles, Beijing, Tokyo and, of course, Seoul. Kim Doyoung, a rich, powerful, attractive, timeless man. A vampire. Someone who would survive the supposed last of humanity's crises, filling his pockets exponentially and living peacefully for all eternity. Absolutely everything you were looking for. 

You were going to kill Kun after you had become what you wanted and rid yourself of the vampires, but that evening he left you no choice.

The morning after the night you met Youngho and your life suddenly got upside down, you went to Kun's apartment for explanations.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep the memory from creeping into your mind.

"I didn't lie to you," he had the nerve to say. "I just kept information from you, for your own safety."

"Bullshit!" you almost spit in his face. All the anger generated by the situation you found yourself in with Youngho, Soyeon's unnecessary death, and Doyoung's strange attitudes, you were unloading on the police officer. If your plan took a one hundred and eighty degrees turn it was his fault, and you were going to let him know. "If you cared about my safety you would've told me the truth from the start. And I would've been dealing with the right vampire from the beginning. Wouldn't have gotten my mind fucked, maybe my co-worker wouldn't be fucking dead!"

"You could never have dealt with the situation on your own."

"I would have planned it differently! I thought I had Doyoung eating from the palm of my hand."

"You have Doyoung eating from your hands, though," he shot back, maintaining an incredibly calm composure even though you had been yelling at him for about ten minutes.

"But he's not the right guy, for fuck's sake!"

Kun left the room leaving you shaken, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your throat closing more and more in response to all your accumulated anger. After a couple of seconds he returned with a file box in his hands and begun to search inside it, until he pulled out a blue folder and opened it with the intention of reading its contents to you.

"Okay, listen. This is how we're going to proceed."

"Hell no. I'm not doing this with you anymore." Your face contorted in disgust as you looked at him, and you pointed an accusing finger at him to speak, "You think I can trust you after you lied like this to me?"

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone?" Kun asked once more, but this time with a much more incredulous tone, his eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk on his lips. "Are you that naive? Look at you."

He motioned to you with his head and you followed his gaze all the way down to your own self. You were still wearing your outfit of the previous night—your performance clothes, only covered by a fur coat you managed to take before leaving the casino that barely reached your thighs. You hadn't had the energy to shower nor change clothes since you came back from Youngho's apartment, so your makeup from the previous night was trying to survive the water from the bathroom sink and the rain, almost completely smudged off your face now. To be quite honest, you were a disaster.

"You're nothing more than a whore who makes men horny for fucking money, and you're going to die as that, nothing else," he stated disgustingly. "There's no chance you can fool Youngho and run away with his money. It's not happening. Be fucking realistic."

You felt your eyes burn and fill with tears. A lump settled in your throat, and you couldn't warn him at all. When Kun turned around and had his back to you, you just saw the perfect opportunity to vent all your pent up rage.

The knife you were hiding in your boots felt incredibly heavy in your right hand. Kun's hair was soft to the touch as you took hold of him to angle his neck to the edge of the blade. A clean cut from left to right was all it took for your skin to feel the heat of his blood, and the floor began to turn red—a dark and stinking red, like the one you often see Doyoung drink from his fine glass bottles.

You let out a cry of exhaustion watching the body fall limp to the wooden floor and hearing the retired officer struggle to maintain his life.

"¡Fuuuuuck! ¡Fuck, fuck, fucking shit!"

The pool of blood didn't manage to reach the sole of your shoes, as you walked away and busied yourself with taking the file box that Kun had just revealed to you, along with some other photographs and bank account numbers. You didn't take all the items that were hanging on his walls, because whoever entered, found his lifeless dead body, and then saw how he had been following the vampires for years, would only think that the crime was their own doing—that they discovered him and wanted him out of the way. Nobody would ever suspect you, because you always made sure there were no traces left of your relationship with Kun that could incriminate you. There was a high chance that the case wouldn't even get investigated, as no one dared to touch the vampire organization and Kun didn't have family in Seoul that could worry about him, anyway.

The old plan to get to the vampires was completely screwed, so you needed to think about a new one as soon as possible.

You opened your eyes and you found yourself sitting at home again, by candlelight, this time with a joint in your hands. You turned it on, took a puff, checked the time through the broken screen of your phone. Only a minute had passed since you last did the same, but in your head it felt like an hour. 

Nothing coherent would emerge under that state of mind, so finally, after approximately more than thirty-five hours awake, you went to sleep trying to convince yourself that you were not losing your sanity.

05: every splendid thing gathered as if to tempt me

You weren't asked to go to the vampire's cave again after what happened with Soyeon. When you went back to work at the club alone though, Ten was the first to suspect something had happened either when you were there or after. He asked if you knew the reason why she was absent, but you weren't gonna tell him the truth–you couldn't imagine what would happen if your coworkers found out their bosses didn't mind killing his employees only because they couldn't control their thirst for human blood. You were afraid that, if you said a word, they'd find out and get you killed too.

Your answer did not convince Ten at all, who questioned you, crossing his arms and frowning.

"You think she's sick?"

You just shrugged, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror of the club's dressing room.

"It's been a week since she's absent," he remarked. "You think she's gonna miss a week of work, considering how shitty the pay is, just because she's sick? She doesn't have any more income."

You swallowed dryly and couldn't stand his gaze any longer. If Ten noticed how guilt took over your senses, he chose not to say anything about it. Only his footsteps could be heard, the sole of his white platforms sinking into the wood as he walked away from you to collapse on the old leather couch.

Your phone vibrated and the screen turned on, showing a text indicating to be at the private parking lot in five minutes. Doyoung explained he had a busy week and that he couldn't make much time to contact you, but that he admired you from his office every night that you were dancing at the club's stage, and it made him miss you even more. He wanted to compensate you for all the time you couldn't be together.

"Doyoung might know something," you finally tried to reassure Ten, even though you knew Doyoung wouldn't have a clue . "I could ask him about her."

His long, thin legs crossed while he lit a cigarette up and drank whiskey as if it were water. "Please do," he said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "I'm worried sick about her."

—

You thought it would be easier to deal with the situation, however the image of Soyeon dead in Youngho's bed haunted you day and night, just like the tail of your lies. The sound of the flush filled the bathroom right after the conversation with Ten made your stomach turn. You opened the sink, rinsed your mouth, touched up the red color of your lipstick and bit into a mint.

Five minutes later, you found Doyoung waiting for you at the side of his white sports car. He was busy on his phone, a frown on his brows as he discussed with someone in a low tone you couldn't catch anything of what he was saying. Even though he looked frustrated, his eyes relaxed as soon as he saw you approaching his spot. He did that characteristic gesture of him, extending his arm to you to get you closer, and you intertwined your fingers as he ended his call on the phone.

"I'll have an answer tonight, Johnny."

Your stomach flipped for the second time that day as soon as you heard the name leave Doyoung's lips. He frowned once again, maybe sensing a change in your mood, but only smiled at you and caressed the back of your palm with his thumb. You thought Doyoung might not have known what happened, but somehow he could've been trying to comfort you.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Doyoung ended the call.

He cupped your face with his hands locking eyes with you. He had a tender look, and it made you wonder if Doyoung might see it through you—all the sleepless hours, the crying, the fear, the stains of blood, the lies. Yet he only pushed your head closer to his, locking your mouths with a soft kiss. His lips were cold to the touch, but after what felt like the most chaotic and stressful days of your entire life, you found some kind of comfort in them. His gentle manners disconnected you from reality, so you stuck to that kiss like your life depended on it, deepening it more and more as time passed.

You tugged Doyoung closer, his perfectly white shirt wrinkling in your fists while you felt his body adapt perfectly to yours and his expensive cologne filled your senses. It reminded you of the reason why you started seeing Doyoung in the first place—you liked him. You liked his body, you liked his face and the way it seemed like he only had eyes for you. You loved how he smelled, how he always kissed your cheeks, how his silk shirts felt on your skin after he got you naked. Then you got used to the rides on his expensive cars, the delicious meals and the comfort of the king sized beds he would fuck you over everytime you were together.

Maybe you liked all that a little too much, got ambitious, wanted it all only for you. And you wanted it forever.

He broke the kiss and laughed when he saw you chasing his lips for more. His hands moved up to hug your waist and you opened your eyes to find his slightly bloodshot red, his irises slowly going back to its normal yellowish as you both struggled with your breath.

A lopsided smile was plastered on his face.

"Let's go home."

And maybe, only this last time, you didn't want to think of following plans, of keeping secrets and fearing betrayals. Maybe you wanted to have a moment with Doyoung, only a moment, like it was when it all started.

After weeks of torrential rains, all that was left in Seoul was empty streets under an eternal starry night. The wind that entered through the apartment’s open windows made the black curtains dance around a king-sized bed where Doyoung laid naked. Through the gold-ornamented mirror he observed you fix your hair, then put your panties on and add some more lipstick after it transferred all to your lover’s skin.

Against popular belief, you were able to catch his silhouette through the reflection coming close to you. His body was illuminated by the moonlight only, yet it was enough to admire all the muscle and the ink that adorned his body. It was just as they described it on the documents you got from Kun’s house, each tattoo placed in the exact place, and it made you wonder if those previous investigators had gotten the information the same way. How many lovers could Doyoung and the rest of the vampires possibly have had that were not their lovers, but some desperate humans trying to make something out of this miserable world? How many other girls have touched Doyoung’s velvety skin under the moonlight, over those same sheets, and how many more would if you’re not the last one?

His touch was cold over your shoulders, even when he placed his soft lips on your naked skin it felt terribly cold. From behind you, his right hand traveled past your navel until it reached the only trace of fabric you were wearing. The other hand over your neck applied the right amount of pressure to get your entire body pressed to his, and he whispered in your ear.

“There’s something you need to understand very clearly, my dear.”

The coldness reached your insides. Doyoung started rubbing on your sex very gently, enough for you to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Even if you start dancing occasionally for other vampires at the cave, you’re my human.”

He added a finger as he finished the sentence, making you throw your head back over his shoulder.

“You can’t be with anyone else.” When he sensed you were ready, a second finger came in alongside a tight grip on your neck. “Understood?”

But a moan got caught in your throat. You had to open your eyes to check your reflection in the mirror because you couldn’t believe what your ears heard.

That wasn’t Doyoung’s voice asking the question, nor was it his figure behind you and with his hand between your pussy.

It was Johnny’s.

The older vampire let go of the grip on your neck before putting your panties down in one go. The contact on your skin no longer felt cold, but it was incredibly hot, almost burning the places he was grabbing you from. With both hands behind your back locked between his, he started fucking you. You looked for Doyoung around the room, wondering where had he gone and if he was okay with it. It was hard to understand how one second he was telling you you’re his, and the other he was letting his superior have his way with you.

“What are you doing?!” You asked the vampire behind you, while he was restlessly going in and out of you and you were fighting not to scream his name.

“This is lesson number two,” Johnny said between breaths. “You can’t play both ends.”

It’s hard to explain what truly happened that night, because you couldn’t decipher it yourself.

When you started to fight the pleasure, he seemed to have no other option than to let you go. After quickly putting all your clothes on and apparently coming down from the high, you ran out of Doyoung’s room, full of embarrassment and in fear of encountering him and got him questioning your state.

But you couldn’t avoid him.

His hand on your forearm stopped you from getting through the front door.

“What happened?” He asked a little out of breath, only wearing a pair of briefs and a confused expression.

“Where is he?”

“Where’s who?” Doyoung returned the question.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” you apologized as you fought to get rid of his grip, rotating your gaze wildly between his body and the bedroom door, hoping that Johnny would simply disappear from there. “I just need to go.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.”

“Did you not like it?”

And what were you supposed to say? You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of Doyoung letting Johnny fuck you. In his own house, right after himself. It just wasn’t part of Doyoung’s nature, you knew that. So, to say you were extremely confused once again, was an understatement. Doyoung was still looking at you expecting an answer.

The problem was, you liked what Johnny did to you a little too much.

“Are you scared of me?” Doyoung asked after not getting a word from you. “Is this because of Soyeon?”

“No.” You furrowed your brows. Doyoung knew something and was clearly keeping it from you. But how much did he know was the real problem; he better not have an idea you were with Johnny the night she died, or it would be all screwed. Doyoung simply couldn’t know you saw his boss, or you would lose your job and contact with the casino, completely. That’s why you got a little defensive and started questioning him, even when you already got all the answers. “What does she have to do with this?”

“Uhm, no, it doesn't have to do anything–”

“What do you know, Doyoung?” You demanded with a firmer tone. He remained silent, perhaps debating whether to confess or not. So you feigned a little more concern.

“She’s missing! Don’t act all dumb Doyoung, I know something happened to her!”

“One of the vampires of the cave, Donghyuck,” he finally started. “Well, he can’t control his impulses too well.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“He’s young! Like, very recently turned and… Apparently he impulsively sucked all the blood out of her–”

But it was impossible for him to finish the sentence because you started gagging. Not because of what he was saying, but because of the mental image you had of Soyeon’s dead body, and Donghyuck all covered in her blood in front of you. You even remember the nauseous smell, and your eyes filled up with tears because of the disgust.

“I know she was your friend. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just didn’t want to scare you.” His voice came out desperate as his touch sought to comfort you, through caresses on your arms and your cheeks. “I know I get possesive sometimes telling you you’re just mine, but it’s because I’m afraid you might get involved with them and end up like that.”

“I already got involved with you. What makes you different?” You countered a little defensively, dodging his hands.

Doyoung had always been very respectful of your boundaries and your emotions, so you weren't surprised when he brought his hands to his chest, guarding himself against the desire to come into contact with you after you avoided it. His murmur still echoed in that huge, dark living room of his apartment.

“That I… I really care for you. You’re more than a good fuck to me. You know that, right?”

The empty look of a defeated body was all you gave back to him, as if you no longer had the strength to deal with the situation.

He approached you very slowly, still in a state of alert that you could feel. “I care for you.” He repeated. “A lot.”

“You vampires can’t develop feelings and shit,” you finally spoke. “Don’t try to lie to me.”

The vampire shrugged with his head down, an attitude you have never witnessed before. That level of vulnerability he was showing was completely new; deeper than the sex, even deeper than sharing your blood with him.

“I can,” he confessed, looking back into your eyes. “I’m not that old, you know? To completely dissociate myself from my feelings.”

While you remained silent, you let him close the space between the two of you once again. Doyoung’s fingertips were soft caressing your cheeks, yet his lips felt even softer. He wore yellow clear eyes full of worry, far from those arrogant or lustful looks he gave you most of the time. On his naked chest, right above where his heart should’ve been beating, a perfect shape of your lips in the color of red.

The gears were turning inside your head trying to think of how to use this to your advantage and put the plan into motion with Johnny.

“I need some time alone to process all this.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Doyoung was quick to reassure you. “Whatever you need, you know I’m just one call away.”

You nodded your head yes and were out of the vampire’s place.

Once on the street, you searched your small bag for the cigarettes you had taken from Doyoung's nightstand and lit one. In a reflex act, you looked up in the direction of his balcony, where its black curtains still fluttered due to the unusual wind and blended with the darkness of the night in a decaying Seoul. Suddenly, the windows closed. You exhaled the smoke from your cigarette smiling.

"Stupid vampires."

And you stopped the bus that would take you back to the Oasis.

06: tell me how you want to keep me for eternity

Multiple murmurs from came to your ears as you opened the doors to the red room. The waitresses opened bottles of champagne and filled the mortals’ glasses as the vampires sucked on their blood cocktails. There was some jazz playing in the back while you were opening your way to that particular table that caught your attention so much on the first day you were at the vampire’s cave.

That night, however, you noticed there were a few missing faces as you performed on the stage.

When you encountered Yuta at the casino’s main entrance and he told you you were back at the third floor, of course you were expecting to dance for Johnny. Yet he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t even feel his presence like you did the first time you were there, and you thought it was strange. Why would he call you to dance if he wasn’t going to be watching? And why would you bother dancing if you were going to do it for other people?

The call of your name startled you, making you realize you had already walked by the vampire’s designated table during your train of thought. Taeyong's friendly tone made it quite difficult to hide the reality that you weren't interested in stopping at the table unless Johnny was there.

“Come have a drink with us.” 

You nodded your head politely and sat down at the rounded table. Taeyong and his boyfriend were attached at the hips as in every situation you had shared with them. On their side, a rather young looking man with a perfectly defined nose and plump lips with an unnatural red. The remains on his glass made you think you couldn't make up his age based on his looks because he was also drinking from the blood cocktail. Between him and Yuta, some girls you had never seen before. Lastly, Donghyuck was sitting on your side with a cocky smile that you started to think was characteristic of him.

“You and the dancers were amazing tonight,” Taeyong said as he offered you a bubbly glass that you drowned in one go.

“It was a new show,” you responded with a smile. “A different one we haven’t presented in the club, so we didn’t have much rehearsal before this.”

“You work at the club?” One of the girls asked, arching a brow and getting a laugh out of her friend.

You confirmed with a nod of your head and a slightly embarrassed smile, yet the rage was already bubbling up inside you. She only added, “Must be hard dealing with all the shit that goes down there.”

That made both of them laugh and you scoffed in response.

“Why don’t you go down there and see if you can deal with it,” your face frowned as you challenged them with the same impudence. “I’m sure you won’t act all tough once you’re outside your little privileged bubble.”

Yuta was the only one that dared to show a reaction to your response. He laughed and poured another glass of champagne before handing it to you as some kind of reward. “You won’t want to mess with this one, girls,” the japanese said and he got up in his place, not looking them in the eyes even once but rather concentrated in the rest of the cave, as if looking for someone.

“Yeah, I can see,” the girl that remained silent and only laughing until then, spoke. “You can’t hide where you come from. It always shows.”

And with that they left the table, leaving you alone with the vampires.

“I think you’re one of our best dancers,” Jaehyun said. “But not the best.”

As the sensual tone of an electric guitar came to your senses, he stood up and asked his boyfriend for his hand. “Would the best dancer in the building give me the honour of sharing this piece?”

Taeyong laughed out of nervousness, asking ‘what?’ as he laced his fingers between his lover’s. But his expression turned quickly as he recognized the song. “Wait, is this our song?” He asked getting up.

“I paid the musicians to play it for us.”

Jaehyun dragged his partner to the center of the dance floor, attracting everyone's attention except for one person. It seemed like Yuta had finally found what he was looking for, and you saw him smile for what you think was the first time in your life. A genuine smile formed on his lips and forced him to leave the table in search of an infernal woman who was entering the cave. He kissed her knuckles almost hidden by a huge fur coat, and the tip of her stilettos echoed across the floor as they both left through the red curtains she had just entered.

A few seconds passed by with Jaehyun and Taeyong swinging to the music, before you were startled by the last person setting at the table with you.

“Just you and me, huh?” Donghyuck asked and you hummed. “Should we go dance too?”

“No, thanks.”

“What?” He laughed, sounding like he was a little shocked by the quick denial. “I thought you enjoyed dancing for the vampires a little too much,” he added with a disgusting tone eyeing you up and down.

His wandering looks you caught from the corner of your eye obliged you to cover up a little, uncomfortable. But it wasn't enough for Donghyuck to catch the signal, or maybe he decided he couldn't care less, hence the young vampire moved his right hand to your knee and started squeezing there, feeling your skin through the red stockings you were wearing.

“Red’s my favorite colour,” he whispered getting closer to your side.

Your trembly hands tried to pour another glass of champagne but failed once you noticed the bottle was empty. Beyond Donghyuck’s spot on the table there was a bottle of whiskey, so you tried to reach for it but couldn’t when you felt his hand go further up your knee.

You stopped him right there and looked him in his blood-shot eyes. A wicked smile took over his features and he licked his lips after squeezing your thight once more. “What?” He asked after your silence.

From his being emanated a mix of whiskey and that nauseating smell that reminded you of the night Donghyuck had appeared before you covered in blood, and of the floor of Kun's apartment covered in the same red.

“You scared of me?” Donghyuck whispers once again. “Scared you might end up like that pretty friend of yours?”

You held your breath, trying to endure the nausea that the young man caused you. You knew he meant you were scared of ending up dead.

“Trying to be fucked by you?” A laugh made your entire body shake. “Not even in your wildest dreams,” you finished to get his hand off your skin and up from the table.

As the loverboys still danced slowly at the center of the floor and in front of the musicians, you fixed your clothes and went a little over him to finally reach for the bottle of Black Label.

“I need to go see your boss.”

—

“Ten,” you called his name as soon as you heard the boy on the other side of the phone.

Since Soyeon wasn’t around anymore, you decided you had to trust someone else. You had been working at the casino for a few months only, so it was needed to keep in contact with someone who knew the interns and could give you quick information.

Ten showed himself trustworthy since the very first moment you met. He was the nicest coworker you had too, along with Soyeon. During your first rehearsal at the club it was only him and you; he spent hours teaching you all the choreographies and showing you around so you wouldn’t feel so lost on your first day of shows. Later that same day, after he drowned glass of whiskey after glass of whiskey, the confessions came to you while you two sat on the rusty couch of the changing room.

“I fell for them too,” he said, head thrown back on the couch, getting his eyes lost on the dirt of the ceiling.

You rolled the tobacco between your fingers with some difficulty and passed it to Ten. “How did that happen?”

“Honestly,” the boy lit the tobacco up and it struggled to burn due to your poor arming skills, but he didn’t seem to mind. “They’re intriguing, I don’t know. And they’re handsome and hot despite all that coldness they carry around. But there was this particularly nice vampire that came to the club one night,” he confessed while pouring another two glasses of liquor and passing one to you. “That’s unusual. You’ll never see them around here, not even Doyoung, he’s always observing but only up from his office.

But this one was there. He came to see the show and then I encountered him in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” 

“He was doing coke,” Ten laughed in disbelief. “But he was so nice,” a sigh came out of him remembering the moment. “The most defined jaw I’ve seen in my life, nose and lips carved by the Gods, a soft pastel pink hair that reminded me of how the beautiful afternoon sky looked before all this world went to shit.”

That made you wonder. Ten looked ratherly young, maybe around your age or just a couple of years older, yet you had no memories of how the initial world was. You had only lived during the beginning of the end. “How long have you been around here, Ten?”

“Many years,” he said, calling your name. He stood up from his place and went to look in front of the changing room’s mirror. “I got beside him like this, only looking at him through the mirror but I could see him eyeing me up and down with a dopey smile.”

It looked like nostalgia took over his body, a sad smile adorning his face when he turned around to finish his sentence.

“Taeyong has always been easy like that.”

“You fell in love with one of them?”

“Mhm.” Ten walked on his platforms until he was sitting on your side once again. He put the tobacco down in the ashtray and took the black, thick choker he was wearing around his neck. “We got close like this.”

A slightly visible scar of what looked like a pair of fangs was there on his skin.

“I think it can happen to most of us.” Ten searched for something in between his tight clothes until he took out a tiny bag of powder. “I do wish to feel that high again, everyday of my life.” Opened it, collected a little on the inside of his long nails and inhaled. “But I don’t wish for anyone else to experience it at the same time.”

“Girl,” he said through the line. “You good? Are you done with your number?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied and hesitated for a moment on asking what you really wanted to know. “Do you know where I can find Johnny?”

A moment of silence, then Ten’s voice finally came back to your ears. “Last floor. His office is the only room you’ll find there.”

—

A gold painted door read Seo Youngho in front of your eyes. Under your black platforms, a petrol-colored carpet that combined perfectly with the dark walls of the hallway. You knocked on the door and checked above it and around the corners of the hallway to see if there were any cameras announcing your arrival, but opposite what you were used to in Doyoung’s office, there wasn’t a single one. You only heard a disturbed ‘come in’ from inside, and the voice made your stomach turn upside down.

The room behind the golden door was giant, covered in dark wood and black-out windows that reached the meters-long ceiling. Adorned in a typical gothic style, the office of your boss was what you would call a vampire's refuge, with thick blue curtains, and ornate armchairs sporting matching velvet. To your left, shelves that covered the walls full of books and boxes with files. To the right, a giant frame holding the most horrible canvas you've ever seen of Saturn devouring his son.

The voice of the boss himself made you turn your head to the center of the room.

Far from where you were, towards the end of the room and sitting behind a huge wooden desk covered in papers and candle wax was Johnny. He called your name a little surprised and made you feel stupid with a half empty whiskey bottle in your hand.

“Seems like you finally made a choice,” he said standing up from his place and coming in front of the desk.

You smiled with your lips sealed and started walking towards him. It was only a few steps, yet it felt like eternity. The room was incredibly cold, so much so that it gave you goosebumps and you had to fight a shiver once you were in front of the vampire. He looked down at you and laughed, taking the bottle out of your hand to pour two glasses of the liquor.

“The right one,” Johnny finished clinking his glass with yours.

The vampire went back to his place behind the desk, placing himself on his big wooden chair and inviting you to sit in front of him. “What brings you here?”

He was acting extremely weird, as if he wasn’t moved by your presence despite the initial surprise, not even after he fucked you in Doyoung’s bedroom what felt like hours ago. And when you saw him manspread as he lit up a cigarette, all you could think of was those same furrowed brows while he took you from behind in front of the mirror. You couldn't take him off of your mind. But he was unfazed.

“I expected to see you at the cave today.”

“I had a lot of work to do, as you can see.” He extended a hand showing you all the papers on his desk. “But luckily for you, I'm almost done.” That sparkled something inside you. A little bit of interest shown, enough for you to squeeze your legs together in excitement. Johnny looked down to your red stockings and lace and gifted you a lopsided smile. “I suppose you're still interested in seeing me?”

He took out another cigarette and lit it up, its black end burning while he handed the golden filter in your direction. When you put it between your lips, it was slightly humid.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.”

“Good then. I just need to go run some errands. It's gonna be quick. You can come with and then we’ll be heading home.”

It made you smile inevitably. You let the smoke come out of your mouth before agreeing to the plan. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Johnny stopped the car in front of a building you were too familiar with. It wasn’t your apartment, nor it was too far the casino to be Doyoung’s place. It was the entrance to Kun’s rusty apartment what made your blood run cold. He didn’t come out of the car immediately, only looking through the driver's window until two figures appeared through the front door. It was Yuta and that stunning female you saw him leave with earlier in the cave.

“What are we doing here?” You tried not to show the desperation in your voice.

“You stay in the car.”

The harsh sound of the closing door surprised you as Johnny went out to his encounter with Yuta and the female. You didn’t want to look suspicious, but you were dying to know what they were talking about and what they were doing in front of the building where the man you killed days ago used to live. So you tried your best to at least read the lips of the vampires and make out a little of what they were talking about. But it was all in vain, with Johnny showing his back to you and covering the figure of this intriguing female.

Shortly after, an old man came through the front door and greeted the vampires. His black suit and the police ID hanging from his neck left you frozen. They exchanged a few more words, an incredibly serious expression never leaving Yuta's face–the only one you could really see from your angle–, and then they parted ways.

Yuta and the female in the fur coat walked right in front of Johnny's car, and the japanese didn't miss the chance to suck the soul out of your body with his look. It took you back to what he said to the people sitting in the cave with you. You won't want to mess with this one.

What did he mean by that? What did Yuta know about you and how much did Johnny?

The closing of the driver’s door catched your attention and Johnny was sitting behind the steering wheel once again. Like a habit, the vampire caught your lips in a quick kiss after starting the car engine.

He looked at you fondly through his red irises. “Pretty little girls like you shouldn’t be playin’ with dead things, huh?” He asked with a smile. “Yet here we are.”

—

Johnny’s place looked nothing like the first and last time you were here, not with the curtains open and the dim lights of the streets finding their way through the windows. You checked the time on your phone screen and it was almost six in the morning. The sun was supposed to be showing behind the horizon already and warming up the world, but that was a scenario that didn’t take place anymore, and you had grown accustomed to it, to the darkness and the cold that surrounded and followed you every step since you had use of reason. You also noticed on top of your screen there was no service inside there.

You thought, in case something happened to you, at least Ten knew Johnny was the last person you were meant to see from that call you had with him earlier.

It was incredibly warm inside Johnny's house, and all the previous hours you had spent sleep deprived began to hit you one by one. You let out a big yawn as your arms relaxed on each side of your body, surrendered and exhausted.

A pair of lips came in contact with your cheek as your view got completely blocked by a tall and defined figure. Johnny kissed your skin softly while he caressed your arms up and down.

You couldn't help but think about how similar it felt to Doyoung's touch, and you avoided closing your eyes in fear that something strange would happen again. At that moment, you were suspicious of your desires, which seemed to confuse you to the point of imagining things.

“You’re pretty tired,” he noticed. “The boys told me you did really great today.”

“I really wanted you to see the new show.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

You nodded with a smile yet chased for his lips, what made Johnny laugh a little. “I’ll run a bath for the both of us.” Then he took your hand in his and started dragging you towards the bathroom.

Unsurprisingly, the room was painted in all dark colors and adorned in gold pieces. A wall decorated with what looked like figures of religious hearts was what caught the most attention. At its feet, a magnificent bathtub that could definitely fit more than two people, which Johnny quickly set about filling with hot water, and the image of the bathroom began to dissipate due to the steam. Among all that cloud, his hands invited you to take off his clothes, and he did the same to you with delicacy.

Johnny's body was incredible, even more toned than Doyoung's. Soft to the touch but firm under your grab, it made you want to tangle yourself between his arms and legs forever. And as if he was reading your mind, he put a foot inside the bathtub and extended a hand to you, inviting you in. The vampire laid his back to the end of it and placed your body between his long legs. You got so close to him that you were sure that, if he happened to be alive, you’d feel his heartbeat through his chest.

You allowed yourself to relax into his caresses as you fought to keep sleep from completely taking over you.

He massaged your scalp with shampoo, then moved his hands to release some of the tension in your shoulders. A sigh escaped your lips out of the satisfaction, and Johnny’s laugh resonated throughout your entire body due to the contact. His touch was quick but careful to explore the rest of your body, and when you felt it reaching the end of your stomach you had to make a confession.

“Johnny.”

He hummed at your call, so you continued talking.

“I don’t think I can fight it any more.”

“Fight what?” A curious tone reached your ears.

Then you felt his right hand traveling further down, and further down. The sensation of his fingers between your lips made you spread your legs wider and lay even more on his chest. And he started rubbing there, carefully, with no rush in his movements.

The stimulation of your clit made you moan out in pleasure and you heard him ask again.

“Fight what?”

You were wet and warm just like all the bathwater that surrounded you two, so it wasn’t difficult when he introduced one of his fingers to you. In fact, it felt so good you were no longer fighting the sleep that was taking over you a minute ago. What you actually meant earlier was that you couldn’t keep awake anymore, the bath becoming too relaxing for your exhausted self. But as you felt Johnny grow hard against your back you also felt all the sleepiness going away.

“Johnny,” you said once again between agitated breaths. Not once did he stop his finger from going in and out of you and from making you moan along with his movements.

“What?” He laughed as you kept calling his name and telling nothing to him. “Want another one?”

So he did introduce another finger without waiting for an answer. The steam from the water combined with the heat your body was radiating started to suffocate you, but it wasn’t enough for you to get out of there. You were finally having what you wanted, after all. Johnny grabbed one of your tits to alternate between squeezing and pinching on your nipple, as his fingers kept stimulating you all the way from your clit to deep inside your hole.

You clenched around his fingers as you felt the pleasure build up every second it passed. His long strands of hair, humid in your hand when you brought one of your arms up to pull on them. And you couldn’t wait to finally have Johnny inside of you once again. At that point, after experiencing how good he was with his hands only, you were dying to sit on top of him and to be under his body for hours and hours.

As your hand reached for him behind your back and you felt all the worries leave your mind, you finally spoke to him. “I want you, hurry up.”

“Hey, no need to rush,” he said while leaving sweet kisses on your neck and getting your hand out of the way. You were getting closer and closer, feeling like you were either about to explode or pass out once you were done.

All worries gone, except one.

The problem was that you felt like you had your days counted before something bad happened to you. You needed a vampire to turn you, to get the fuck out of Seoul with a ton of money as soon as possible, and you had been expecting that vampire to be Johnny. But once again, he didn’t seem to mind.

Johnny ignored your plea as he whispered in your ear:

“I have all the time in the world.”

Taglist: @doiefy @neonc1tylights @hoshitaro

[thevillainswhore]

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK FIC - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - dead dove, kidnapping, mentions of smut (p in v), fingering and oral (fem receiving), implied non-con, degradation, restraints, physical abuse (face slapping), cannibalism (it’s Steve kemp what did you expect?), force feeding, hints of Stockholm syndrome?

A/N: Unbeta’d | dividers created by @rookthorne thank you for also helping me with the summary my love 🥰 | this oneshot was inspired by the lovely @smutconnoisseur who made me this absolutely stunning moodboard 😭 I just knew I had to write something as soon as I saw it. Thank you so much sweetie, loves you the most 🥹

“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”

Steve merely kept on humming to himself, happily slicing the meat in front of him into finely cut pieces. It took severe attention to detail to finesse the glide of the knife just right, cutting through as smooth as butter.

It had taken quite a long time to get his craft on the line of perfection - years in the making - and now that he’d finally mastered the art, it was as easy as riding a bike. The rush of adrenaline spiking his nerves gave him a hit unlike anything else in his life. This was what he was meant for. He’d wasted so much time not giving in before.

Wooden screeching against the floor snapped him out of his inner musings, eyes lifting up to see you fidgeting in your chair - presumably trying to escape, but the chains attached to your feet would keep you rooted.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how the glow of the candlelight surrounding you on the dinner table highlighted the beauty in the features of your face. Sunset orange dancing among the shadows, defining your cheekbones and your shoulders decorated in the straps of a pretty dress.

You were so beautiful. Perfect for him.

Placing the meat onto a skillet to cook, Steve wiped his hands and rounded the corner of the kitchen island to join you, the sudden bravado you had earlier evaporating while terror took over your body. His cock shouldn’t have gotten hard seeing the tears gathering on your lash line, but those glassy eyes reminded him of a deer in fright, ready to run. And fuck, would he love the chase.

“Bambi… join me.”

It was haunting, the kind smile Steve let loose as he held out his hand to you after arriving by your side. No wasn’t an answer, and you did well to stand up on your shaky legs - from still recovering or fear, he wasn’t sure - quietly proud of you either way.

Flashbacks of you clumsily tripping over the bed to go relieve yourself on the toilet crossed his mind as he brought you to the middle of the living room. After fucking you three times in one night, leaving you screaming his name and begging for more each time, he couldn’t help be prideful watching you stumble your way out of the room. Just like a doe learning to walk for the first time.

Of course, the chains rattling with each step you took while limping weren’t part of the memory. The heavy breaths were familiar though, smirk crawling onto his face as he imagined your adorable squeaks while he ate your cunt like he was man starved.

Once Steve had directed you into the middle of the living room rug, he brought you closer to him, slipping his arm over your waist as you flinched, and grabbing your other hand to hold as he began to slowly dance. He was thoughtful enough to keep his steps light and be extra careful with you.

Deciding it was too much of a distraction for you a long time ago, Steve had decided to forego music in the house - it let your mind switch off and he wanted your brain alert… in the present. Solely on him and every move he made. So, he graced you with his singing voice instead, whispering the lyrics to ‘Restless Heart’ in your ear.

Steve felt the shaking of your chest before your uncontrollable sobs cut through his singing. He’d be offended had he no clue how scared his Bambi was.

“What’s wrong, Bambi? Huh? Don’t you like it here with me?”

“I w-want to go h-home.” You stuttered.

Steve sighed and lifted your head up with his palms, kissing your forehead and leaning down to your watery eyeline to speak to you directly.

“Oh, baby…” his condescending tone gave away his faux concern for you, “you know I can’t let you do that.”

You began to heave, breaths coming in fast and heavy with panic - Steve almost felt a crack in his heart. Almost.

Truth be told, Steve knew you were it for him. Ever since he first saw you from the corner of his eye walking down the fruit and vegetable aisle, he’d been bewitched.

Youthful, tight skin, good looking.

You ticked all the boxes for him… and the rest of his client base.

He’d caught other women before - gorgeous, just the right amount of meat on their thighs to keep the buyers happy.

They were good. However, they didn’t compare to you.

Normally, Steve would be excited to find new prey. The cat and mouse play of picking out women to cut up and sell. But, you were different. Steve wanted you all for himself.

See, you weren’t just a pretty face, you were witty, funny, intelligent - maybe not smart enough to see what was coming, but he didn’t hold that against you, he was just too conniving after all.

And those goddamn dates he took you on, paving the path for his plan to come to fruition, when he found himself enjoying your company. Steve wanted to spend all of his time with you, willingly.

That was when he decided he didn’t want to go along with his usual plans. Instead, he wanted to date you. See where this relationship could go.

So, he took you to his house tucked away in a secluded area - the excuse of wanting a weekend without the modern world bothering you in disguise of your questioning to the lack of signal or Wi-Fi.

Honestly, he didn’t initially plan to drug you. The opportunity just… sprung onto him. Too tempting to not listen to his base instincts and ignore the spiked wine hidden in the alcohol cabinet.

A voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t be doing that, he vividly remembered it. The urge to get a kick out of his charades with someone as good as you overpowered it, though.

Steve wasn’t proud of himself afterwards, but how could he be blamed? He’d worked out a successful routine before he stumbled on you. Wooing girls fitting his mental meat quality checklist and eventually luring them into his second home. It was only natural to follow his instincts, what he’d made of himself.

You especially weren’t happy when you found yourself on his home operating table, opening your eyes to realise your boyfriend was taking your ass.

Weirdly, he didn’t find guilt in the thrill he took from that - that seemed to sicken you the most. He remembered how you lunged for him, screaming about the insanity of his pleasures when you woke up after the surgery to find him sitting in your caged prison. Cutting into your delicate skin to watch the stream of blood flow down your rump to then hearing him laughing to himself as he showed you the flesh stolen away from your body had your head spinning - dangling it from his fingers in front of your face.

It wasn’t too long after that you passed out from overexertion. If only you knew the way he used you to take care of himself after that.

It may have been confusing to understand, but Steve genuinely thought the world of you. Those few months of dating spent together changed his mind on whether he’d find a companion ever again.

Finding love alongside Steve’s hobby had been difficult to put it lightly. His first wife knew of his side activities coinciding with his doctoral career. That was why he settled being with her, someone who was accepting of who he was. But, although she may have put up with what he was doing, she didn’t initiate that spark within Steve - that buried, deep seated fire that begged to be set free. Steve wanted to be seen, to be loved in his entirety.

There was no shame in that.

That was what led to the downfall of his marriage, Steve was no longer interested in the farce of keeping up appearances with a woman who didn’t truly understand him. Which is why she had to go. Just divorcing wasn’t an option, she knew too much.

Then came along you. His pretty doe, who captured his heart from a glance.

As your hysteria whittled on, Steve hugged you tight to his chest.

He’d kept you here for a month in total now. Four glorious weeks of spending time with you alone, bonding together. Your feistiness only made his cock grow in his slacks whenever you put up a fight.

His little doe didn’t put out easy - just how he liked it.

As your tears continued to soak his dress shirt further, he shushed your cries, keeping you close and he swayed side to side in comfort.

The beeping of the oven hob, interrupted Steve’s attempt at soothing you. The meat was cooked and it was time to plate up the dinner he’d made for the two of you.

Bringing you away from his chest, Steve smoothed your hair behind your ears, wiping his thumbs under your swollen eyes to get rid of your tears. Holding your arm, he again directed you back towards the table to sit down, clamped your hands back into the cuffs attached before walking towards the kitchen.

Peaking over, Steve noticed you had calmed down and collected yourself by the time he was adding the peppermint sauce over the mashed potatoes and meat.

He had high hopes on your opinion of his cooking, what you thought mattered to him, believe it or not. It was his real passion beside becoming a plastic surgeon, and he wanted you of all people to like it.

Gracefully, Steve walked on over with his finished plates and set one on each placemat. Your head was bowed, eyes set on the meal set in front of you.

“What is it?”

Your mousy voice spoke up and had Steve looking down at you, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could see your face.

“Your favourite, sweetheart. Steak and mashed potato.”

A shudder racked through your body as Steve smirked, dropping your face and grabbing the large napkin to fan out over your thighs. He smoothed the material over your legs and traced the tips of his fingers along your bare skin. The sight of you inching away didn’t sit well with Steve, pinching you to hear that familiar yelp he loved so much.

He began to get settled in his seat, combing his styled hair back with his fingers before beginning to cut up the meat on his plate.

“You remember our dinner date don't you, baby? You ordered the exact same thing when the waiter asked. Poor boy couldn’t keep his eyes to himself when I made you speak as I fucked you with my fingers.”

Steve knows you didn’t want him to hear the gasp that couldn’t be kept in. Adorable. You were still so shy around him.

But he didn’t appreciate how long your silence lingered, looking up to see you still staring down at your food, untouched.

The knife clashing down on the plate made you jump in your seat. You didn’t want to eat, no bother. Steve would help you.

Stabbing a cut of meat with his fork, Steve carefully leaned over the table to hold the steak up to your mouth for you to take a bite.

“Open up, my little doe.”

Steve saw your mouth opening up, happy to see you were cooperating with his request. You were finally making progress. Only for you to suddenly move your head to the side as he got close and bite down onto his hand, hard.

The fury built up in Steve as he snatched his hand away, fork scattering onto the table as he released it. In instant retaliation, Steve backhanded you across the face, sending your head whipping over to the side as blood spurted out your mouth.

“Bad girl.”

Blood from the force of his hit trickled down the corner of your mouth. You hadn’t moved from your spot for a second before Steve grabbed the front of your neck, bringing you closer over the table and ignoring your squeak of pain.

“Now, eat what I so graciously cooked you before I fucking force it down your throat.” His spit from the anger of his voice shot out onto your face. Steve shoved you back before slumping into his own seat once again.

His hot and cold nature always had you on edge, but you were used to it by now. Is that what he really deserved after being so thoughtful to you?

Steve observed you closely. Watching your every move should you try something like that again. Only would you get away with something like that once.

You picked up the fork dropped, meat still intact on the silverware and inspected it thoroughly. He knew you were looking for hints of poison or something that indicated he’d drugged you. He threatened it enough times for you to be wary.

He wasn’t sure what you would have preferred once you found out.

Opening your mouth, you placed the meat tenderly onto your tongue and closed to begin eating.

Steve waited until you had swallowed. Intently watching you chew before you were finished with your bite. He gave it a second before sitting back up, taking the fork from you and stabbing another piece, ready to start his meal.

Not before letting you in on his secret ingredient. “I always said you tasted good, didn’t I, Bambi?”

Cold dread visibly washed over your face as you went deadly quiet. Your hands began to abnormally shake. Steve just sat there and watched as your body went into emotional turmoil.

There wasn’t much you could have done, chained to the table, hyperventilating. It wasn’t even as if you could have stuck your fingers down your throat to throw it back up, fingers too far out of reach to even try. It didn’t stop you from dry heaving over the side of the table, retching loudly.

Eventually, the panic your body sent you in, along with your howling cries from despair allowed you to get worked up enough to throw up. Regurgitated meat mixed with bile landing on the carpet as Steve carried on eating - unfazed.

It took you a while for your body to finally relax, for your mind to comprehend what Steve just made you do. Sweat dripped down your face as you forced your body back upright, too weak to fully keep your eyes open as you hoarsely spoke.

“Why are you doing this?”

You looked defeated, body slumped with dark circles under your eyes, shivering like Steve hadn’t cranked the heating up.

Steve wiped his mouth. He understood you were an acquired taste, not for the lightheaded - you’d get used to it eventually though. He thought you were delicious, cleaning up his plate entirely.

He looked directly into your eyes after he finished eating, voice devoid of emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you.”

Your reply is instant “No, you don’t.”

Darkness blackered his pupils. Body still and uptight as he went still. Steve pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms onto the table, never stopping staring as you squirmed in your seat.

“Don’t you ever question my love for you again. Do you hear me?”

You swallowed the presumed lump in your throat.

Steve couldn’t understand how you didn’t know how much he cared for you. You were here, eating in his dining room. He’d sacrificed customer sales by keeping you to himself. He loved you. You’d understand one day though. He’d make sure of it.

“Give it time, Bambi. I know you’ll learn to love me back.”

“And if I don’t?” There was one last inch of life in your eyes, a thin thread of hope holding on for dear life. Steve could see it clear as day, the embers in your irises dying out with each moment he took to answer.

He knew he had you then, the gut punch of his response blowing out the flame once and for all.

“Funny… you think you have a choice.”

[iwas-princess]

hey! submitting a request bc my bday is today !!

anyways i love your writing so i was wondering if you could please write a fic where y/n is getting followed by a guy and she goes up to the first guy she sees, atsumu, and is like omg babe! like pretending he's her bf so that she can get away from the creep, and bc atsumu,,, is well himself he initially pushes her off assuming shes a psycho fan, when he realizes the situation he obv pretends to be her bf and when the guy leaves he realizes y/n is so pretty but when he tries to ask for her number she like gives him a disgusted look, thanks him, and leaves

the next week hes at a red carpet event with the team and all the cameras leave them and go somewhere else (to y/n) and he asks like whos this "y/n" everyone's chanting abt??? and everyone on the team is like the yn??? how do you not know her?? famous writer/ceo yn?? and then he goes to see what she looks like and he realizes... its the girl from last week.. they end up interacting and start on a better note ,, so fluff at the end pls

this is so long but this idea has not left my mind for the past couple days thank you so much if you choose to write it <3333

happy birthday, sweetheart ! i hope you have a great day and get the presents you want. i changed it up just a ting but, so i hope that’s alright.

atsumu miya • my night in shining armor

“hey, um, are you busy?”

the sudden frantic sound of your voice alerted atsumu, causing him to drop his phone onto the floor of the dirty subway station.

you apologized hurriedly as he hastily picked up his phone, his earbuds being tugged out of his ears and shoved to his sides. he’ll listen to the rest of the game highlights later, he decides.

“not really. but, i don’t feel like giving out any autographs, so please leave me alone-“

you scruched up your face is disgust, your eyes looking him up and down judgmentally, which bruised his ego just a slight bit.

“um, yeah- no. i need you to pretend to be my boyfriend because some creep-“

atsumu chuckled dryly, and if you hadn’t already grown irritated with his confidence, you would have thought the sound was delightful.

but he was laughing at you.

“i’m gonna stop ���ya right there, sweetheart.” he leaned forward, his strong arms resting on his knees at he spoke. “look, if ‘ya like me all that much, just say so. but, i can’t ‘pretend’ date ‘ya to impress your shitty friends, m’kay?”

you were flabbergasted, your mouth agape at his audacity. you had never been spoken to like that so shamelessly, not even by the pricks on corporate who used to hate your guts because heavens forbid that a women make a name for herself. your eyes narrowed, and you had just the speech that you were going to give this asshole until a familer uncomfortable face turned the corner behind him.

you gulped, and out of pure instinct, you grasped onto his msby sweat jacket.

“hey-“

“please— just fucking go with it. i’ll even give you a kiss.” you hissed quietly, your grip unconsciously tightening on his bicep as the strange man neared you.

“what are ‘ya gripping me so tightly for? what are ‘ya? some kind of crazed fan?”

your eyes rolled, already tired of the volleyball player’s company and praying that he goes along with your safe plan so you could just go home.

“sure. all explain everything when he,” you nudged his muscular chest lightly, taking note of how firm he was. “leaves. now, please just shut up and pretend you love me so i can go home safely.”

‘safely’

the word rang in his empty head continuously, like a echo of tragedy yelling into a serene cave. it finally clicked inside of his head.

you were in danger, and whoever this man was, scared you.

he puffed his chest, stifling back a cocky smirk as his large hand slid across your coat-clad back, pulling you close in a loving embrace to his hip.

you had to fight back to eye roll that you threatened to give him. of course he would over do this, any man in his situation would. sure, he put on a rocky front by pretending to have no idea who you were, but eventually he collapsed— like they always do.

the stranger’s eyes locked with yours, the dark look in his pupils caused your grip on the other strange man to tighten out of fear. atsumu noticed both the hold and way your breath caught in your throat as fright took over you. he had no clue who the hell you were, but suddenly felt protective over you.

he pulled you closer to you, whispering a very quiet ’i’ve got ‘ya.’ in your hair for reassurance, which oddly helped your body melt slightly into his.

his heart skipped at the feeling.

“hey, man. would you mind if i borrow her really quick? we have some…” the odd man eyed you up and down hungrily, no doubt the his intentions lingered on his scarred face. “important business to discuss.”

atsumu scoffed, hugging you impossibly closer to his side to comfort you even the slightest bit. his calloused fingers tightening around your sides before his thumb began to rub soothing circles.

“nah, sorry man. i’ve got my girl all to myself finally, been waiting all night.” he faked a large grin before turning his attention back down to you, staring down at you eyes to creat an intimate illusion.

might as well put on a show.

“wait-“ the man stepped back, stunned as he looked between you two observantly. “you two?”

‘oh shit.’ you thought. ‘this is going make the headlines and i don’t even know this guy. he’s not ugly at least, and his body feels nice and strong. it’s not like i’d have a dating rumor with some weirdo, at least.’

atsumu felt his stomach drop at the man’s accusation. if his fangirls thought he had anything going on, they would absolutely just die.

but, like the strong man he is, he kept his head high.

“yup, this is my wonderful princess. beautiful, isn’t she?” he gave your side a squeeze, for show of course. but it still didn’t fail to make your heart leap.

the strange man in front of you quirked an eyebrow at the msby’s setter’s enthusiasm, his stomach burning with jealousy. he turned his attention to you once he realized that he hadn’t heard a peep from you.

your blood went cold as his eyes locked with yours once more, the malicious intent still holding strong in his eyes.

“huh.” he scoffed, his dark irises lustfully looking at your chest and checking out the broad outline of your breasts through the heavy winter coat you adorned.

atsumu stiffened at the sight. this random stranger just checking out a lady so shamelessly made his blood boil.

“hey.” he hissed. “do ‘ya know who i am, buddy?”

his eyes turned to slants, the look on his once ecstatic face, now changed into red hot anger at the random’s man’s filthy behavior.

the man sputtered back at the volleyball player’s harsh tone, but held his pride high.

“of course i know who you are. who doesn’t?”

‘me, apparently.’ you thought.

your arms snaked around his broad waist, attempting to seem as if you were calming him down in your own secret language of love.

the action caused atsumu’s stomach to tighten. he had had female affection, plenty of it, but this seemed different. more loving and safe, not like the countless sexual encounters he so often experienced.

“well, then ‘ya’ll be wise enough to give me and my pretty princess some space, yeah?” atsumu hugged you closer to him, if it was even possible at this point, before glancing down at you for approval. you offered him a gentle smile to continue.

the other man scoffed, offended that you would choose atsumu miya over him— but who wouldn’t?

“yeah, whatever.” he grumbled.

giving him a cocky nod goodbye, the blonde lead you away, his arm wrapped tightly around your back as he ushered you out of the subway.

“thank you. so much. you have no idea how thankful i am for that-“

“the pleasure is mine, pretty lady.” he interrupted, his flirtatious personality leaking through the cracks of his once bruised ego.

he was healed from your past blow at him, the envious look on the strange man’s face as he walked away with you on his arm was enough to keep him going for another week.

you smiled to yourself.

“well, thank you anyway. you put on quite a good show back there… are you an actor? you’re obviously famous, i’ve pieced that together myself.” you asked, your voice growing quite at the last sentence.

he hesitated before answering, his feelings hurt by you yet again.

“ ‘ya seriously don’t know who i am?”

your walking stopped, halting to stare up at the man you had just met no more than five minutes ago.

you didn’t realize how much you didn’t notice about him; his blonde hair that hid away his brunette undercut, the bags underneath his hazel eyes from lack of sleep and too much physical activity, the fine line of his lips that were naturally stretched to a cocky smirk, and the very very broad shoulders that carried him so confidently.

this man was gorgeous, no mistake about that and if the circumstances were different, you would have asked for his number and invited him to dinner.

but, he was different. he seemed way too full of himself to allow you to have his number, major ceo or not. he seemed like the type to only go for fragile damsels— which wasn’t too far off from the situation— who flirted with him and fangirled whenever he so much as breathed around them; not a woman like you.

your dating history hadn’t exactly been easy, especially since you were one of the most powerful ceos in japan. men found your power and intelligence to be threatening, and ‘ruined their masculinity’ so, you hadn’t quite figured out how the whole dating scene worked for people of status like you yet.

“n-no, i don’t. i’m sorry.” you apologized, sincere and soft.

he shrugged it off, pretending as if your words didn’t just gut through his ego like a clam knife.

“it’s no biggie. i don’t really know who you are either, to be fair, princess.” atsumu teased.

your heart stopped at the nickname, your palms suddenly becoming sweaty and cheeks flushing. but, somehow, you felt relieved that finally for once someone didn’t recognize you.

“i-i’m y/n.”

you silently prayed that he hadn’t noticed the name from literally everywhere, but oddly enough, at the same time you hoped he had.

perhaps he’d trust you more and offer you a ride home or something of the sort.

but what if he felt totally intimidated by you and reacted as the many other men in your life had?

instead, he smiled widely and stuck out his other hand, offering a friendly shake.

“pretty name for a pretty girl.” he winked. “i’m atsumu, miya atsumu.”

he could have swore that stars inhabited themselves in your eyes, and they twinkled every time you looked up at him. your smaller arms clung onto his broad wait, hoping the he could promise you safety and protection. he had just met you and already found himself adoring you.

you offered him a kind smile back, flustered at the compliment he gave you but taking his much larger hand in your own and giving it a soft squeeze.

even his hands felt strong, like they could lift the weight of the world off of you shoulders if you asked.

the both of you stayed paused in the middle of the empty subway station, hand in hand and arms snaked around each other’s waists as you stared into each other’s eyes for the very first time.

he was beautiful, you thought. like a model. he had to be a model. if not an actor, a model for sure. or maybe an idol, you’ve seen plenty of japanese kpop idols, perhaps he was one and just visiting his home.

but you, man, did atsumu think you were beautiful? he couldn’t stop the tug on his heart strings every time you blinked up at him, a polite smile on your lips as a greeting. you deserved to be treated like a princess, he thought. just like he had began calling you moments before.

after a few silent moments, you began to feel awkward as the both of you gazed at one another— like a couple in love.

you cleared your throat at the thought.

“well, i should be getting home. my dog is due for a long awaited walk.” you giggled, letting your arms fall to you sides and break all physical contact with atsumu.

his smile fell slightly at the loss, your enchanting perfume filling his nostrils one final time.

“oh- um, yeah. ‘ya probably should go on home. i’ll walk ‘ya, if ‘ya’ll let me.”

you shook your head softly at his offer.

“no, i’m sure i’ll be fine now. i usually only get one creep a week, so this’ll be good for a few days.” you chuckled. “and i’m sure i’ll wake up to a dating scandal tomorrow.”

he chuckled, agreeing that the both of you would most likely be a headline in the morning.

and he’ll be in deep shit with his pr manager.

but he couldn’t care less about that right now, all that mattered was getting this pretty girl home safe and snagging her number.

he planned to take you out next week, to a real nice fancy dinner and treat you like a princess. hopefully, get another date after that and another one.

“ya sure? it’s no big deal-“

“i’m fine, thank you, atsumu.” you cut in.

he smiled tightly, and nodded. you took the moment of silence to wisk yourself away before you caught yourself up in a situation that you had gone through one too many times.

“well, i’m going to walk away now.” you announced. “thank you, again. i’ll keep you in my thoughts, miya atsumu.”

with that, you walked the other direction, power walking away from the kind man that you’ll never forget.

“wait!” he called out behind you. “i didn’t get..” before he could finish his sentence, you were already out of his sight, and lost in the crowd of rush hour. “your number.”

people bumped into him unapologetically, and it only took a few seconds before fans started to crowd all around him, blocking off any sight of you.

—

“y/n! y/n, over here!”

you turned your head over to the left, allowing the paparazzi on that side of the barricade to get better photos of you.

your famous grin was plastered on you face, your signature lipstick shade painted on your lips flawlessly and attracting the attention of nearly all of the reporters.

“y/n, is it true that you and miya atsumu are dating?” one questioned, shoving a microphone in your face rudely and impatiently awaiting your answer.

if there was anything that you learned from countless dating rumors, it was that you should never confirm nor deny an accusation.

if you say ‘no’, all of the creeps who once used to follow you around, will start back up again and you were sure that this time you might actually get in terrible trouble soon. the harassment from those cruel individuals had just halted, mainly because most feared the large man who was reportedly ‘your boyfriend’.

if you say ‘yes’, a hoard of angry fans will troll you and both of your management teams would be very displeased. even, if it were true.

so, you stuck to your favorite trick in the book.

“where did you get that information?” you chuckled, looking around the large flock of attention-hungry reporters and paparazzi, eager for you answer.

the reporter smiled nervously, her hands sweaty and shaky as she tried her best to indirectly give you an answer.

“w-well, you know, the articles are floating all over right now, miss. y/l/n. surely, you must know of them by now.” she gave her camera crew a reassuring look, as if the man behind the large camera set was anxious himself.

you smiled and nodded.

“yes, i am very aware of what people are saying.“

this answer wasn’t enough for any of the gossip starved reporters, because as soon you finished your sentence, they all gave you a awaiting look.

you sighed softly. you hated pulling this, it seemed as if the answer always revealed itself from the statement, but you found yourself backed into a corner.

“i’m going to have to disappoint all of you and say ‘no comment’ for now.”

most of the reporters groaned, but others smirked to themselves and scribbled their next article onto their blank notepads.

this’ll be great.

“princess? is that you?”

your heart stopped beating at the sound of that oh so familiar voice. you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head for a week now and the refreshing sound of it was so calming in a time like this.

but, the timing was awful.

“oh my god! did you all just hear what he just called her?” the woman gasped, gaping proudly at the camera in front of you both.

the other reporters gasped in delight, their greedy minds bursting with new article ideas.

you could picture the headlines now.

‘big three ceo, y/n y/l/n, and major professional athlete miya atsumu share an intimate moment on red carpet.’

bleh.

you turned around, stunned as your widened eyes set on the setter. he cleaned up good. real good.

he beamed at you, a large smirk growing on his face before he embraced you in a tight hug.

his face found the crook of you neck, nuzzling in close to you ear before whispering.

“i’ve got ‘ya. just go with it.”

even the way he whispered sent shutters down your exposed spine.

his hands sprawled across your bare back, absentmindedly running a finger along your spine.

you gasped.

“atsumu! not here!”

hey, he said just go with it.

he chuckled into your cheek, giving you a quick peck.

“just like that, princess. yer doing great.” he whispered against you, praising you for your last outburst.

people began to surround you two now, crowds upon crowds circled your conjoined bodies, his sleek black suit and your ruby red dress making quite the impression already.

he pulled away to look at your face, but spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“had to come see my girl while i was here. it would be cruel if i didn’t, don’t ‘ya think?” he called out to the audience.

hundreds of cameras flashed and captured the ‘loving moment’ between you two.

oh yeah, you both are for sure making headlines tomorrow and for the rest of the month. it’ll be all anyone talks about, you were absolutely sure of it.

why was he doing this? he doesn’t seem to be in dire need of an excuse…

he patted you in the top of you head gently, before leaning in and giving you cheek a peck. the crowd went ballistic, shouting hoorays and gasps as cameras flashed even more now.

“you two are official now!” the reporter squealed, proud that she of all news outlets captured this whole interaction on live tv. “so how do you-“

“sorry, darling, i’ve gotta go. my team is waiting fer me. but,” he leaned in once more, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

your mind exploded, butterflies dancing all around your internal organs as your hands took his.

but, something grasped your fingers as they entered his right palm. he slipped it into your hand, sliding it between your fingers. you could tell it was a small piece of paper, but couldn’t depict what the importance of it was.

he pulled away, no doubt smirking at the way the audience went even more crazy, but winked when you glanced down at your conjoined hands fleetingly.

“my number.” atsumu whispered under his breath, gentle enough that only you could hear before letting go of your hands and waving the stunned crowd goodbye.

you stood there, shocked and excited.

you hadn’t even exchanged an hour worth of conversation with that man, and now the both of you are reportedly dating. great.

your mother will be so happy to hear about this one…

[blueaetherr]

aubade

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where jude sings a love song in the early morning to the reader

author's note: tumblr wasn't displaying the full fic i wrote so this is a re-post

now playing: until the end of time by justin timberlake ft. beyoncé

The couple always started their day early, rising from bed like the sun at 5 am. It was a part of their daily routine yet they still weren't quite in tune with it just yet. Always was there a struggle to get up prompt and ahead of time. But they got up, nonetheless as Jude would help her out of bed and Y/N would lean on him as they made slow strides towards the balcony door.

Eventually, they were able to rest on the balcony. They were lounging comfortably and close to fit under the large blanket, shielding themselves from the shallow cold. Senses slowly becoming alert and aware, Jude and Y/N took in the presence of silence and nature—the silence of nature—and turned to one another, sharing prevailing yet tired smiles and hooded glances.

Starting their day so early wasn't a want but rather a need for the two. Because when they had to separate to get ready for their jobs and tasks of the day, Jude and Y/N wouldn't see each other until the sky settled the way it was during after hours—so they dearly cherished the 30 or so minutes they spent together at the beginning of the day.

In the end, after all, when you passed the struggle of getting up and the alarms, when you got over the cold breeze upon opening the balcony door, it was a rather normal and nice experience. To share a moment of peace in silence, to share a conversation and tell a joke or two, to lean on and fall in one another in the natural presence of nature—it seemed old-fashioned for such a young couple, sure, but it was how they needed to start their day right.

But sometimes they liked to disrupt the silence—the one of nature—or fall out of conversation. When it was too cold, when the chirping of birds fell flat, when the conversation and close body contact weren't enough to lift Jude and Y/N out of fatigue, they resorted to playing some music and perhaps even joining along with it.

When the music was playing, they really enjoyed relaxing in all of that. Finding more warmth in each other and their large blanket, letting the conversation wander for a moment or two before it was found again as Jude and Y/N turned to one another in smiles galore and prominent laughter, refusing to take their time together seriously. Why would they, when it was already so limited?

And when Jude got ahold of Y/N's smiles and laughter, he would usually keep a hold of them. Because the soft music flowing out of the speaker would push him to sing whatever song was floating in the air. And she would smile and giggle because of his singing, laugh because he would tragically fail to hit all the notes even if, really, there were none.

In truth, however, Y/N would smile—and smiled—because Jude placed so much emphasis on the lyrics that perfectly applied to their relationship. Singing for her entertainment during such early hours, sure, but also as a romantic affirmation – a love song sung at dawn. He was letting her know that their love was true and alive—a little something he had to highlight in their functioning, healthy relationship.

So when the conversations finally decided to lay low, when the cold decided to subside by the slightest, when too much laughter was floating in the air, Jude and Y/N soon took that as a signal to head back into their bedroom. Now they were able to ease into the rest of the day.

[shadowdaddies]

Could I please request angst to fluff Nesta x Reader? I love your fics so much and have read them all multiple times ❤️

thank you so much love! I love writing for Nesta💜

What I Am is Yours

Nesta x Reader

Gwyn landed a right hook square in your jaw, bringing you out of the daze you’d been in. Grabbing the bone through your boxing glove, you gave her a bewildered expression, the Valkyrie giving you a knowing shrug before her knowing smirk turned towards Nesta.

Your heart sank as you watched the stunning female in talks with one of the Illyrian warlords, looking down her nose at him as the male shrunk under her gaze. You smiled knowingly, admiring Nesta’s raw power as the Lord bowed to her influence, admitting his defeat in whatever argument they were having.

As if alerted by a sixth sense, Nesta turned towards where you stood, silver-blue eyes trained on you for a long moment. She strode towards you with her long legs, amusement in her eyes as she stopped near where you and Gwyn were sparring. She focused on you, and the world stopped in that moment as you braced yourself for what you craved most: her attention on you.

Crossing her arms, Nesta nodded towards your hips. “You’re off center. Keep it up with that form, and your opponent will knock you off your feet in no time.” Her piercing gaze landed on your cheekbone. “And you’re distracted. Looks like Berdara already landed a solid hit.”

With that, Nesta strode away towards the next set of sparring partners, leaving your heart and pride fractured. 

Gwyn’s soft voice rang out from next to you. “You should talk to her, you know. Let her know how you feel.” 

You scoffed at those teal eyes, the way they looked on you with pity. “Why would I waste my time? She clearly doesn’t feel the same. You’ve seen how cold she is towards me. I swear she hates me,” you rambled, face turning red in anger and frustration as you squared up to Gwyn.

Gwyn gave you a deadpan stare, eyes flicking between you and the silvery-blue that you were unaware watched you from behind, drawn to you too often for their own liking. Gwyn squared up, smirking as she wrung out her hands.

“Sure, whatever you say. Just do something about this... tension you have. It’s unbearable for the rest of us.” You swung at her, the beautiful red-head effortlessly blocking your fist, giggling with amusement as you danced around the mat. 

“That’s time for training today, everyone. Stretch out your muscles and get out of here. I’ll see all of you tomorrow,” Nesta called, nodding at each passing Valkyrie as they left the training ring. 

You stayed in the corner, chatting with Gwyn about stopping by the library to grab a book this afternoon when you realized it was only the two of you and Nesta left. Nesta seemed to relax as she recognized the same, her posture softening as she made her way to where you stood with Gwyn by the water station.

Gwyn’s gaze followed yours over her shoulder, mirthful eyes twinkling as she watched the blush of your cheeks grow. “Nesta! We were just talking about the new Sellyn Drake novel,” Gwyn greeted cheerfully.

Nesta looked at you, bemused at the subject of choice. “Well Gwyn, if you have a copy, I’d love to read it,” Nesta responded, and you realized Gwyn’s plan.

The young priestess twirled her braid, a bright smile highlighting her striking features. “Oh, well... My only copy has already been promised for today-“ Gwyn paused, gesturing to you. “But I’m sure the two of you can work out an exchange, or read it together! That reminds me, I have to be going or Merrill will be on my case again,” Gwyn laughed, rushing away and out of the training area to leave you alone with Nesta.

“I didn’t realize that you were a fan of Sellyn Drake,” Nesta hummed, taking a seat on the bench by your side, motioning for you to do the same. You took a seat, muscles stiff as you grew nervous. “You’ve been distracted lately. That bruise could be much worse if Gwyn were better in hand-to-hand,” Nesta teased.

Her smile faded as she took in your expression, the way you chewed your lip, folding in on yourself as your thoughts wandered to just how obvious you had become with your feelings about Nesta. Her hand found your chin, lifting your gaze to hers.

The moment you dared to look into her eyes, the emotions that had welled up inside of you broke like a dam, words flowing from your mouth faster than you could register. “Nesta, I care about you. I mean, I think I love you. And I will get over it, I won’t let this be awkward. I just needed to get that off my chest because I have been holding it in for so long and I need to move on.”

Your eyes filled with tears, lips crumpling into a frown as Nesta watched you, her face unreadable. Her thumb swiped across your lower lip, eyes darkening as she held you in her trance. 

“What if I don’t want you to get over me?” she whispered. “What if I feel the same way?” Her thumb dragged down your lip harshly, forefinger curling under your chin as her stare grew heated. 

“W-why would you want to be with me?” you whispered, feelings of your inadequacy growing in front of the powerful female who held you, in her grasp in every sense of the term. 

Nesta let out a sharp, almost mocking laugh as though the question you posed was ridiculous to her. Her soft hand slid up to cup your cheek, stroking the skin there as her eyes wandered over you, taking her time to appreciate having you to herself. “Why wouldn’t I want you, would be the better question. I’ve held back as long as I could bear, holding onto the rare moments we’ve been able to interact during training or in the library. I am a mess, I am broken and healing. But I feel for you like no one else before.”

Your body heated, warmth spreading through your chest at her confession as you leaned into her touch. Reaching out a hand towards her, you pulled Nesta closer. “Please, don’t hold back anymore,” you whispered, desperate for any piece of her that she would give you.

As though she could read your thoughts, Nesta leaned in, her lips nearly brushing yours. “I do not know that I have much to give, but everything I have, everything I am, is yours,” she breathed, closing the distance between you as her lips molded with yours, the soft warmth of her skin setting a spark alight in your chest as you broke into a smile.

[pouralaura]

pinned post: writing

spoiler alert: most of it is about the devil guy

my take on Raphael is very whimsical and indulgent; I like to highlight his flaws (pride, namely) and his weird idiosyncrasies. I generally write him with some more borderline taboo proclivities and as a bit of a fetishist because, to me, that's decadent and indulgent and the height of whimsy and core of his character. my Tav (both the faceless version I use in my longer fics and my own Eris), meanwhile, is also very prideful, but she's extremely self-aware and in her own head about it all the time. she finds Raphael pathetic and endearing and incredible; Raphael finds her to be his perfect vice. they're absolutely apeshit about each other in everything I write and they're both big time switches

asks open, prompt fill requests are more than welcome, and I am always open to taking comms through DM here or on twitter!

fic links below (all explicit, please heed the tags when you get there):

who will burn who: a university AU in which Professor Raphael and his favorite student have a Mutually Pleasurable Arrangement (read: he gets her off during his class and she gives him her underwear which he then enjoys thoroughly)

teeter: an exploration of Raphael and Tav in Act III and how they're far too proud to admit their feelings for one another, even when things escalate and become extremely sexually charged between them

I won't speak of love: a oneshot focusing on Tav's indecision and dislike for playing the hero, where her time with Raphael is the only thing that makes her feel normal and in control of something for once

your pout or your fist: a VERY silly pre-relationship oneshot in which Raphael taunts Tav with a portrait of himself and Haarlep in Tav's likeness and she gets extremely salty and horny about it

Indulgences: a theatrical and dramatic oneshot where Raphael and Tav enjoy a little priest and confessor punishment roleplay teehee

tomorrow means nothing: a white lotus AU where Raphael is a hitman and Tav is a pretty young thing who can't stop running into him on vacation

debasement: this one is feet. I wasn't kidding about the fetishist thing. but it's not about the feet, it's about the indulgent whimsy of it all and how Tav embraces it and indulges him in turn. give it a shot I swear it's actually really fun

other stuff:

if the shoe fits: a lil Astarion x Tav fic that was literally just an excuse to put a pretty man in a corset and thigh-high boots and write about him using said boots in extremely explicit ways

tumblr-exclusive ficlets:

reflection (my Eris x Raph)

hold your applause (potatocrisp's Zarra x Raph)

anyway, hope you enjoy!

you can find me on twitter and ao3 at the same @.

[maya1525]

Drunk Sex (Alternative Version)

18+ MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Yuji Itadori / Ryomen Sukuna

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader Receiving and giving oral, cream pie, blood, biting, alcohol use, drunk sex, sex with the King of Curses, rough sex

Word count✩࿐5K

BONUS✩࿐Sex in front of a mirror and some aftercare.

Summary✩࿐THIS IS PART 3. Reading part 1 and part 2 isn’t necessary, but it is appreciated. Fem!Reader is at Yuji’s house party and Itadori can’t keep his feelings toward the reader bottled up any longer. Sukuna ends up taking over Yuji’s body part way through the ordeal and things get a little interesting.

A/N✩࿐Sorry for the long wait, I’ve been going through some pretty lame family problems. This is my alternative version of PART 3, I’m not sure if people would feel uncomfortable reading the original part 3. So I made this version for you guys. When Sukuna is speaking in Yuji’s head I highlighted his words in red and Yuji’s responses in pink. I hope you enjoy this fic. <3

Your head felt like it was spinning as you tried to focus your vision on the pong table right in front of you. You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had and you’re certainly too gone to ask for another. The cups on the other side of the table looked as if they were shifting. You knew it was the liquor in your system that was responsible for your impaired vision. You tossed the small ping pong ball towards the end of the table and made the shot by sheer luck.

“Woah, nice job!” Yuji smiled up at you in a drunk haze. The both of you decided to go one on one in pong, while everyone else was preoccupied. It was still early in the night since Yuji’s house party started around six. Megumi was in a heated discussion with Kamo while Yuuta ended up passing out on the couch. Your poor sweet Yuuta was the biggest lightweight at the party. Toge sat next to his sleeping friend while Todo was showing off his taste in music on the TV. Maki and Nobara sat on the bar stools next to the island, gossiping heavily. You could sense their slightly envious stares occasionally. Whenever you found the courage to talk to them, they sounded condescending towards you. So you decided early on to straight up ignore them and just focus on having a good time.

“Ok just watch this awesome trick shot I can do!” Yuji said excitedly as he tossed the ball upward and then punched it toward the cups. You could sense cursed energy coming from his fist as he pummeled the ball. The white plastic ball rocketed toward the red solo cups at record speed, knocking two of them over in the process. Water sprayed all over the table and onto your cute outfit. Thankfully the loud music in the room didn’t alert anyone of what just happened. No one except Yuji noticed. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry Y/n!” He ran over and helped you pick the cups off the floor.

Your wet clothes didn’t bother you, it shocked you at first but because of our drunk stupor, you got used to it right away. “It’s ok, it’s just water.” You smiled up at him, but his concern was still prominent.

“Here, come with me. I’ll help you dry off.” He took your hand and guided you up the carpeted stairs. No one saw the both of you depart; the pong table sat in the corner of the living room at the base of the stairs. Upstairs were the guys' bedrooms, while downstairs they had a shared living room and kitchen. You had a similar setup for your apartment. Except your bedroom was the only one downstairs next to the kitchen.

You felt grateful that the girls didn’t notice your soaked outfit, that would’ve been tremendously embarrassing. The both of you clung to each other as you climbed the strenuous stairs. Yuji led you to his bedroom and then to his bathroom. The both of you hung onto each other’s hands tightly as you stumbled into his pitch-black bedroom. He flickered on his bathroom's light. “Here, use my towel. I’ll get you a dry change of clothes.” He handed you his dark blue towel and quickly turned the corner back to his room. He ran into the door frame in the process. “Shit, there’s a wall there.” He laughed, making you giggle.

You eyed yourself in his mirror, your cheeks were a little flushed from being drunk, but other than that you looked hot! Despite being wet with water. You struggled to pull your shirt over your head because (you were heavily intoxicated) and your shirt was a tight-fitting black crop top. You stumbled backward and bumped into the wall behind you, a struggling whimper escaped from your lips. You managed to get the fabric over your head but your left arm was a little stuck. You panicked and tried to pull your arm out roughly, but you heard your fabric make a few threatening sounds tearing so you paused, not wanting to rip your cute shirt.

When Itadori entered the bathroom he was greeted by the sight of your plump breasts wiggling around as you struggled to get your shirt off. Your face was covered so you didn’t know he stopped and stared briefly. “Here, let me help you.”

You heard Yuji from somewhere nearby, “Oh, thank you.” You muffled out, as you felt his hot hands on your back. Goosebumps immediately ran all over your body, from being cold and wet. He gingerly removed the article of stubborn clothing, tossing it to the floor. He was so close to you, he gulped nervously. You looked into his sweet brown eyes with a kind smile on your pretty face, “Thanks for that, I was s-struggling.” You slurred and shivered at the same time.

Yuji’s mind was racing. When he was sober, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It drove him up a wall what a freak you secretly were. He couldn’t stop thinking about seeing your petite body getting railed by his friends on their couch. He felt so envious of his friends and Gojo; being fortunate enough to enjoy you inside and out. It wasn’t just your physical appearance that allured him, but your adorable and kind personality too. You acted like your sweet and innocent self whenever you were near him.

Yuji could tell how easy it was for his friends to fall for you and he too was slipping down that slope. It was difficult to ignore those feelings he had for you, especially when Sukuna craved you just as badly. Whenever you were near him, he’d hear Ryomen’s dark voice ring out in his head for Yuji to make a move or let him take over. Even during this moment, Yuji heard Sukuna pestering him.

Let me out! Are you going to make a move or what? Sukuna spat irritably. You’re such a coward.

Your jaw quivered from the cold, but because you weren’t sober you didn’t feel cold at all. It’s as if the outside of your body is on autopilot. You could sense the heavy sexual tension coming from your friend. Even though you acted like everything was normal; when you two were together, you’d notice a longing in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Or how his friendly touches became more intimate without meaning to be. The way his sweet eyes were staring at you now, you could tell he was burning up.

Without intending it, Yuji had you cornered against the wall while he was a few inches away from your half-naked body. “Y/n...” He trailed off as the liquor got the best of him. He pulled you into his chest without thinking. A surprised squeak left your mouth at your friend's bold action. He lowered his face so it was closer to yours, “Can I kiss you?” He blushed, while the look in his eyes was so needy and desperate.

Without answering or thinking, you tentatively brought your smooth lips to his to share your first kiss with Itadori. His grip on you tightened, and his lips moved against yours eagerly. Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t believe that this was happening. Lost in passion you tangled your fingers in Yuji’s pink locks, tugging gently - causing a gasp of excitement to come from his lips and into your mouth. You felt arousal overcome you like a massive tsunami wave, you wanted to know what sex would feel like with your friend. Or so-called friend.

Itadori felt ecstatic, it was finally happening! He felt a little ashamed that this was happening while you both were heavily intoxicated; would you kiss him if he was sober? The way you pulled his hair and kissed him back hungrily gave him hope that you would want to.

He lowered his hot mouth to your overly sensitive neck, as he pressed you against the bathroom door now. Shutting it in the process. He lightly teased his tongue down your neck, making you whine, “Itdadori…” his hot tongue caused a wave of intense shivers to wake on your skin. Your needy core clenched with desire. All while Yuji gently licked and kissed the crook of your neck, Sukuna was driving him crazy.

Let me out! I want to fuck her now!

Shut up dammit. Let me enjoy this.

He ghosted his fingers up your torso and to your breasts, delicately rubbing them. Earning a small gasp to come from you. He then sneakily stuck his hands underneath your bra to tease your nipple. Something hot and wet enveloped your breast completely. It felt like a mouth! This sensation both shocked and turned you on at the same time, you instinctively arched your back in pleasure “Yuji!” You gasped as you felt the mouth on his hand suck your nipple roughly.

The mouth gave you a small bite, “no sweetheart, it’s Sukuna.” Said a dark voice from under your bra. Yuji pulled his hand out to look at it with frustration, and you saw a mouth had visibly formed on his palm. The teeth that Sukuna had were fang-like. “Sorry about him.” Yuji sighed in a defeated tone.

“It’s ok.” You blushed, “I don’t mind him at all.”

“You hear that! She wants me, just let me have here already-“ Yuji slapped his normal hand over his palm with a pink tint of embarrassment on his cheeks. You leaned forward with a reassuring smile and pulled Itadori in for a passionate kiss. He gladly accepted and he darted his tongue into your hot mouth to explore it. As the both of you frenched feverishly, you cautiously grabbed Yuji’s wrist and guided his hand to your soaked skinny jeans. “Touch me.” You whispered against his lips.

Itadori felt like his heart was beating a hundred miles per minute, he craved you so badly. He wanted you to scream his name and become a wet little slut just for him. He hastily undid your jeans and pulled them down your smooth legs. You struggled to step out of your pants, you giggled as you clung to Yuji’s broad shoulders for balance. He smiled at you playfully and bent down to his knees to help you out. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at your sexy black lace underwear. Without thinking he removed that skimpy piece of fabric. He wondered if his friends also helped remove these panties from you. He felt proud to be a part of the club. Your pussy looked so appetizing to Itadori, he enthusiastically flung your thigh over his muscular shoulder and shoved his face to your core. His slick tongue swiped over your folds teasingly. “Mmh.” You whined desperately, thrusting your hips closer to his eager mouth. He latched down on your clit and sucked your sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt him bring two fingers to your wet entrance and slowly insert them. They immediately came in contact with your G-spot, making you cry out pleasurably.

Suddenly Itadori’s fingers transformed into something larger and bulbous, he pulled his face away from your leaking cunt with confusion and slowly pulled out his fingers. Only to realize his two digits had turned into a huge meaty dick with tattoos on it. You were astonished at how his body was able to transform into other body parts. “Sukuna...” He hissed under his breath.

You suddenly felt empty and horny to be filled up again. “Stick it back in.” You whimpered, looking into Yuji’s chocolate-colored eyes pleadingly. He couldn’t say no to you and plunged his parasite's dick back into you. He could feel your walls clench his thick rod tightly. Strangely enough, Yuji found it pleasurable, and his dick in his pants began to rise with excitement. As he pumped the lengthy appendage in and out of you, he brought his lips back to your clit to give it some love.

The feeling of having a dick pumped in and out of you while Yuji sucked your clit sent you over the edge. He rapidly pounded his handy cock into you, making you spread your thighs out wider for him. Everything about this situation was desirable to you. You threw your head back to rest against the door and stared up at the moving ceiling. You were far from sober, but one thing was certain, you knew that you liked what Itadori was doing to you. Without being aware of what your body was doing, you found yourself desperately trying to bounce up and down onto Itadori’s hand. Your body craved more and Itadori planned on giving it all to you.

He pulled the dick out of your needy little cunt and you saw that it was coated in your glistening juices. Yuji gave your stimulated clit a kiss goodbye and stood up to eye you hungrily. He brought the dick attached to his hand to your lips and you obediently opened up for him. His massive rod entered your hot cavern slowly, giving you time to briefly welcome him into your mouth. You sucked the hot tip of his dick first, tasting your arousal on him. Your tongue fluttered the around the head and then to the underside of his cock, guiding him further into you. Itadori could hear Ryomen hiss with pleasure in the back of his mind.

Yuji was more than turned on as he watched you make love to Sukuna’s manifested penis. His pleasure was linked to Ryomen’s in the most intriguing way. He was able to feel all the dirty things your tongue did to him. Sukuna managed to open his second pair of eyes below Yuji’s and form a mouth on Yuji’s upper cheek. “Good little slut, now take me down your throat.” He growled. His deep and sexy voice made you tremble with a sudden urge to please him and obey his every word.

You sucked his dick down your throat as far as you could let it, your vision began to blur with tears as you gagged on his thick rod. Through your watery vision, you happened to make eye contact with Sukuna’s fiery red gaze. His eyes glowed sadistically, causing you to whimper on his dick. The vibrations of your throat caused both Yuji and Ryomen to groan slightly with delight.

Itadori then turned you around and bent you over the sink roughly, while he kept Sukuna’s cock lodged down your throat. In this position you managed to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, you then focused your attention behind you. You saw that Itadori lifted his olive green t-shirt to expose his muscly abs. He placed the bottom hem of his shirt in his mouth to keep it up and out of the way. You heard Yuji undo his jeans and saw him spit on his dick to lubricate himself. He pumped himself a couple of times before placing the head of his cock to your slick entrance. You were more than ready for him. If Yuji was sober he would’ve teased you a bit more, but he couldn’t wait to take you. He was too excited and too drunk.

He roughly forced his toned hips against your bubbly ass cheeks. A loud groan of pleasure left his lips as he felt your hot warmth envelope him completely.

“Ohh, Yuji!” You moaned out, enjoying the delicious feeling of him filling you. Your walls clenched him greedily and he loved that, he could cum right here and now. But he wanted to make this moment last as long as possible. He brought his left hand up to your breast, and as soon as he did Sukuna’s mouth moved to his palm and sucked your tit viciously.

“Ahh!” You whimpered. Sukuna saw in the mirror how your pretty doe eyes welled up with pain and pleasure and that turned him on even more.

Yuji brought his attention to his dick pumping in and out of you slowly. He was taking his sweet time plunging into you, relishing how wet and ready you are - all because of him. He’d pull almost all the way out so the tip was barely in you. Causing you to shove yourself back towards him, wanting to feel him back inside of you. Then he’d stuff himself back in roughly, enjoying how your gooey walls welcomed him each time. Itadori then began to move into you at a steady and fast pace, he clenched his teeth on his shirt as he eyed your sexy body taking him. His stamina and tempo never faltered as he claimed your pussy. Each time he thrust into you, the dick you were sucking would jolt inside of your throat roughly. Which would cause you to weakly cough and choke on Sukuna occasionally.

Sukuna’s sharp teeth grazed over your soft breast and broke your skin. You were too focused on the way Yuji pounded deep inside of you, to realize that Sukuna was licking up the small droplets of blood from your breast. Itadori was able to taste the copper flavor of your blood on his tongue, he was confused and turned on at its taste.

You knew it should feel wrong to be intimate with someone who you thought was for a friend, but it didn’t. You knew that the both of you would probably have a discussion about this situation sober. But at this moment, your hazy mind chose desire over rationality. To put it simply, not a single thing felt wrong in you and Itadori’s dazed and horny minds. The way your saturated pussy squeezed Yuji’s dick comfortably as he thrust into you, made you feel like your body was made for his. Everything felt heavenly to the both of you; something this pleasant shouldn’t be inappropriate. The white-hot pleasure Yuji made you feel between your legs, threw your irrational thoughts out of the window. His long dick sliding in and out of you became a bit more wild and erratic, you could sense he was getting closer to his release.

You looked up in the mirror toward Yuji, his handsome face was slightly shiny from sweat. The way he bit down on his shirt feverishly looked so attractive. He then angled his hips up into you so he came in contact with your sweet spot, causing a gurgled moan to form around Sukuna’s cock lodged in your throat. His hips slapped against your ass rather loudly, as he dicked you down desperately.

Suddenly the mouth on your tit turned to a hand, and the dick in your mouth turned to fingers. Itadori’s cock inside of you felt as if it increased in girth and depth. Stretching you out in a painful and pleasurable way. The head of his dick rubbed against your cervix, causing a surprised whimper to escape from your lips. You looked at Itadori confusedly, only to see that the man staring you down in the mirror wasn’t Yuji; but Sukuna. The mood in the bathroom changed drastically into heavy cursed energy. The menacing man behind you shook you to your core. Goosebumps from utter fear rose all over your back. His red eyes glowed with intimidation mixed with arousal as he stared you down with a devilish smile.

“I didn’t want that punk to spoil the fun. Now it’s my turn.” He growled from behind you, ripping Yuji’s shirt off his muscular body. You noticed the elaborate tattoos covered Ryomen’s skin. Making him seem even more attractive and scary at the same time.

Sukuna then pulled his massive penis out of you, only for him to ram it back in with tremendous force. He shoved your entire body against the sink painfully. The hard marble edge of the counter dug into your hips as he folded you. You weakly tried to hold your body away from the sink with your hands, but Ryomen grabbed both of your petite wrists and firmly pressed them against your lower back. Helplessness washed over you as this curse pounded into your small body ruthlessly. Sukuna pulled his fingers from your drooling mouth and gripped your hair. He yanked your head back harshly so you could make eye contact with him through the mirror. Everything about this man was dominating, and that made you feel fear and arousal.

Once your body began to get used to his lengthy penis, getting fucked by him became more pleasurable. Sukuna watched as your pain-filled eyes switched to desire. “You like it rough, huh?” He murmured as you felt his iron grip on your wrists tighten.

Sukuna brought his fang-like mouth to the crook of your neck to bite and suck roughly, leaving painful red bites and hickeys on your sensitive skin. He removed his aggressive grip from your hair and brought his fingers down to your clit. His long fingers slid over your sensitive bud harshly, making your breath hitch with excitement. “Mmh!” You moaned in response.

This entire situation felt forbidden, getting railed by the King of Curses while your boyfriends were downstairs totally oblivious, caused you to feel even more turned on. Sukuna’s cock stretched you out in the most delectable way, he slid in and out of you effortlessly. His tempo was rough and wild, he couldn’t help but admire the way your pussy squeezed him so tightly with each thrust. He took both of your hands and pulled them behind your back possessively, he held them firmly with his left hand. While his right hand pinched and pulled your nipples painfully. You were at his complete mercy, this man could do anything to you and there was nothing you could do or say to oppose him. Ryomen truly is the most powerful curse you’ve ever come across. Being so close and intimate with such a powerful being made you feel almost sinful… You’ve been trained to exercise curses, not get fucked by them.

“You’re a soaking mess Y/n… such a pretty little slut for me,” Sukuna growled from behind you, his dark voice caused shivers to run down your spine. His voice alone is terrifying, your instincts tell you to run away from him, but that would be impossible. You’ve never felt so hot before, the fact that you’re letting the King of Curses fuck you has permanently tainted you. There’s no going back now. “Make me- ahh” You whimpered out in pain as you felt Sukuna bite down onto your shoulder. “Hmm?” He hummed with dark amusement, “What do you want me to do?”

Sukuna’s persistent rod plunging into you sent you over the edge. “Make me yours, cum in me.” You moaned out in delicious ecstasy as your walls clamped down on Ryomen’s dick, drenching him with your release. The way your needy cunt squeezed his cock so scrumptiously sent him into a thrusting frenzy, he fucked you through your orgasm as he chased his own. You felt him sink his teeth into your supple flesh, “Fuck, you will be mine.” Sukuna murmured as he slapped his muscly hips against your juicy ass. You suddenly felt him pulsate profusely as he released his massive load of seed deep inside of you. A guttural groan left his lips as he bit down onto your shoulder possessively, you could feel hot sticky blood drip down your cleavage as your shoulder stung with pain.

He popped his dick out of your pussy, his rod glistened with the mixture of both of your cum. He was still hard as ever and his release began to gush out of your wet cunt. With his dick still slippery he placed his tip at your puckered hole. He greedily shoved his massive cock inside of you, causing you to moan out in discomfort. He stretched you out incredibly, you weren’t prepared for him which didn’t help much either. Before Sukuna could thrust into you ruthlessly, he was suddenly suppressed by Itadori.

As Itadori came to his senses he felt an incredibly snug squeeze around his throbbing cock. He realized that Sukuna had taken control without warning and he had his dick shoved up your ass. It took him all of his willpower to not plow into you, but by the way, your nails dug into Yuji’s thighs painfully, he knew his rod may be the cause of your pain.

“Ah-are you ok?” He choked out in pleasure as he gently began to nibble your earlobe.

You turned your head to the man behind you, his voice was soft and his red eyes went back to a warm brown, “Yuji?”

He nodded affirmatively with a small smile, his hands holding your waist carefully. “Should I take it out? If it’s hurting you?” He asked with lust-filled eyes, he clearly didn’t want to remove himself from your warm and tight hole.

“It’s ok, but can we take this to the bedroom? I’m tired of standing.”

Without another second delayed, Itadori gingerly removed his raging dick out of you and whisked you up into his arms. Yuji hoisted you away and carried you into his dark bedroom carefully. He set you down on the bed. Yuji’s lips crashed onto yours in a needy manner, as he half laid on top of you. The bathroom light illuminated his handsome features perfectly, especially the charming smile he’d make when he’d pull away from his needy kisses to just stare and admire you. Yuji didn’t want to admit it while he was drunk but he always thought you were the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met.

As you looked up at Itadori you could still feel your head spinning from the alcohol. His hands slid all over your body, causing goosebumps to rise and making your nipples pebble. He suddenly flipped you over with such ease a surprised gasp escaped your lips. He had you on top of him while he was lying down. With barely any effort he hoisted you up his torso so your glistening cunt was now hovering over his face. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he eyed your pretty lips, his mouth watered instantly and forced your thighs down so you sat on his hot mouth. His tongue teased your clit as he slid it feverishly across your sensitive nub. “Oh-Itadori…” you moaned as pleasure raked up your spine. He popped his tongue inside of your wet cavern and swirled it around deep inside of you. He enjoyed your cute little moans and gasps of pleasure while he snacked on your pussy. You tasted heavenly to him, he couldn’t think of anything better than having you sitting on his face. He then began to plunge his tongue in and out of you quickly, and you couldn’t stand it anymore. You drenched Yuji’s face in your release and he eagerly drank your juices.

As you came down from your orgasm, you decided to return the favor to Yuji. You kissed a trail of hickeys down his muscular torso, and soon you were greeted with the sight of his raging rod. Itadori’s lust-filled eyes raked over you as his breath began to pick up with excitement. You sweetly enveloped his sensitive tip with your hot pouty lips. His velvety skin felt so soft and smooth under your greedy tongue. You coaxed him further down your throat quickly, so his entire length was lodged down your throat. “Mmm... Y/n.” He hissed out with delight as he threw his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying every second of your sinful mouth working on him.

You focused your attention on Itadori’s delicious dick in your mouth, enjoying it when he’d tug your hair gently. You eyed the pink-haired man as he looked down at you with a look of pure bliss on his handsome face. You knew for a fact that things would never be the same between you, and you felt excited about this new relationship.

Itadori got up to his knees and shoved his dick in your mouth. You needily sucked him off, enjoying the small groans that escaped his lips as you made love to his dick. Your mind felt as if it were going a million miles per minute, you felt Itadori’s hands grip your bobbing head firmly. Which turned you on even more, your hot slippery mouth felt heavenly to Yuji, along with your muted moans which caused sweet vibrations all over his shaft. The room was filled with the sound of your lewd muffled moans as you gurgled on Itadori’s dick.

Yuji’s warm brown eyes looked down at you with approval as you deep-throated him. He loved the way your pretty orbs welled up with tears as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. He emptied his load of seed deep down your throat aggressively, his hands still tangled in your hair while he enjoyed his ecstasy. You drank him up enthusiastically, making sure not to miss a single drop.

“How long were you standing there?” Asked Yuji breathlessly as he directed his attention to someone else standing in the room. Oh how the tables have turned, Sukuna thought humorously. You moved your head back to see Megumi standing there in the darkness with a hungry look in his eyes.

“Long enough to know that I’d want to fuck her with you sometime.” Fushiguro held his gaze on your naked and used body; noticing the bloody bite marks on your shoulder. Then he directed his attention to his friend. Yuji came up to you with a towel and helped clean the cum, sweat, and blood off you. He was extremely gentle and cautious when he handled you. Making Megumi approve of his friend's treatment of you even more. If Itadori wanted to be one of your boyfriends, Fushiguro would have his vote.

“She seems like a good bit of fun.” Said another voice emerging from the inky black hallway. Causing Fushiguro and Itadori’s attention to shift toward the doorway. There stood Kamo Noritoshi, as he eyed you suggestively. Kamo approached you with such dominance, that he reminded you of a more intense version of Megumi. He brought his hand up to your chin so you were now looking up at him. He noted how fucked out you were, along with the hazy look in your sultry eyes. “Damn she’s a little vixen” Noritoshi sighed, pulling away. He smirked down at you, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement, “With your permission, Fushiguro I’d like to join you and Itadori.”

“And don’t forget about me.” Snarled Sukuna.

Next

[blueraineshadows]

I would like to request a fic of f*MC, who is an unspeakable, and Sebastian Sallow, who is an auror, as husband and wife. They were on an intense mission together and they almost died. The moment they apparate home they still feel the intensity of what happened and they immediately start kissing each other and end up having “end of the world” type sex.

I hope you like te request and I can’t wait what you do with it!

Thank you for this Ask 💜 I hope this alright 👍

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC 🔥🌶 NSFW - violence and smut

Years of practise meant that Sebastian was one with the shadows, moving quickly and quietly, eyes alert and wand ready. He paused, eyes adjusting in the dark as he peered around a pillar of ancient stone. A fire pit danced in the darkness and the shadows of moving figures bent crazily across the stone wall.

Dressed all in black, the collar of his Auror coat pulled up to his chin, Sebastian waited, his ears pricking up at the sound of low voices. The men guarding the entrance had been nothing but foot soldiers, the muscle, and Sebastian had taken them down easily enough. Now, he was near the inner chamber of this research den, and the wizards here had hearts blacker than coal.

He turned his gaze to the far side of the room, a faint shimmer catching his eye. He watched as it warped in an out, moving carefully towards the corridor where he was hidden. When it came to a pause beside him, ducking behind the opposite pillar, the shimmer flickered into a solid shape.

Also dressed in black, her hair pulled back from her face revealing the mouth watering curve of her jaw, was MC. Despite the situation, he could not help but take a beat to appreciate the woman beside him. She had been at his side since they were 15, and he couldn't imagine her not being there now. Impossible.

Her eyes moved to him, fire pit flames glittering in their shadowed depths. He caught the flash of her smile and it still had the power to make his stomach flutter. He raised a questioning eyebrow to her, his wife, his partner, his everything.

She nodded. Her inspection of the north passage had been a success. The relic was here, which meant that the wizards the Auror office were hunting would most likely be here too. Good. He was ready for a fight.

They took out the first two quietly, the bodies slumping to the floor, but then the real fun began. Spells seared through the dimly lit room, the sparks dancing around the shadows of flickering flames. Husband and wife duelled as if in a dance, their movements fluid and a complement to each other's bodies.

Room clear, they took the north passage and ran with light steps, crouching near the entrance to the relic atrium. Sebastian's blood was up, his breath fast and shallow. MC was coiled like a spring, but she was more patient, monitoring the situation. That relic was her main interest here, not the fight. As an Unspeakable, research was paramount, and that relic had been on her most wanted list for months. They could not afford to fuck this up.

So, when Sebastian ran in, wand poised and spells flying. MC had to grit her teeth at her husband's recklessness. Some things never changed.

The head of operations here was a tall, smartly dressed man, well spoken, and Wanted in ten countries. To deliver him to the Ministry would be a career highlight. To see him floating midair and bound with chains was very satisfying. Sebastian stood admiring his work as MC took down the last of his lackeys.

Their captured prize began to chuckle, a dark, rumbling sound that drew Sebastian's brows together in irritation. MC approached the relic, careful, intrigued. Sebastian glanced between his prisoner and his wife, realisation setting in almost a beat too late.

He reached out a hand towards her, a shout on his lips, as a ear shattering crack split the air. MC was blown back away from the relic with a blinding flash of light. She didn't even make a sound as her body flew up and back, her arms flailing out.

Fear like never before seized Sebastian, and all the while, the prisoner cackled in manic laughter. Sebastian moved fast, a flick of his wand shot his spell out, capturing MC and slowing her down, but not enough to stop her hitting the far wall. She slid down to the floor, slumping there, unmoving.

Prisoner forgotten, he ran to her, sliding to his knees before scooping her up, checking her vital signs. With his hands pressed to her throat to check for a pulse, a searing pain sliced across his back. He turned, pain screaming through him.

His prisoner had snapped his chains and had his wand poised. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Revenge would be sweet when it came, but for now, he had other priorities. Scooping up MC, he drew on the last of his strength and Apparated them both out of there.

....*....

The first pale fingers of dawn were creeping across the sky when MC finally opened her eyes. She winced, muscles stiff, and glanced around the familiar bedroom. Beside her on the bed were the remains of healing Potions, cloths stained with blood and what looked like Dittany paste. She sat up, blinking drowsily, and then stilled.

Sebastian was sitting on the chair at the dressing table, his body slumped forward, arms dangling loosely at his sides. She couldn't see his face, it was turned away from her, but his back made her gape in horror.

His flesh was sliced as though ravaged by claws, the skin puckered up into thick red wounds, the blood trails dark against his paleness. She scrambled across the bed, her feet hitting the floor with a thud, a dizzy spell sent her staggering, but she stumbled towards him anyway. Gripping his shoulder, she shook him, hard. "Sebastian!"

Nothing. Panic made her throat tight. "Fuck, fuck, no," she rasped. She saw more evidence of attempts to heal and felt tears sting her eyes. He had tried to help himself, and no doubt had tried to help her first, it was him all over. She moved around him, hands on his head to look at his face. He was grey, his lips even paler. "Sebastian, wake up, it's me. Please!"

Her fingers fumbled as she found Wiggenweld, and tipped it down his throat. Nothing. She tried other potions, the salve and a basic healing charm. Still the wounds refused to close. The limp, pale look of him made fear snap at her insides, but she wasn't going to give up. Not on him. Never.

She took her wand, and dug deep, fighting her own dizzying trembles to draw on her Ancient Magic. She slowly sealed the wounds on his back, the flickering blue and white tendrils knitting his flesh. Then she pulled him from the chair, laying him as gently as she could manage on the floor, before placing her palms on his chest.

"Please," she begged. Her cheeks were damp with tears she hadn't even noticed. "Don't you dare fucking leave me."

She closed her eyes and channeled the magic through her palms. The glow of her magic warmed his chilly flesh, the swirls like delicate smoke strands coiling intricately around her hands before seeping into him. In her mind she let memories flood outwards, swirling moments of laughter, soft touches, the feel of his lips, the day he asked her to be his wife. She imagined their clasped hands, their bodies entwined in rumpled sheets, the energy and magnetism of fighting by his side.

"Come back to me," she whispered. "Sebastian, come back."

With a cry of relief, she felt his chest heave beneath her hands. His lips sucked in a breath and his eyes opened wide. He looked up at her, gasping. "What happened?" He croaked.

....*....

They sat at the kitchen table nursing cups of tea, the remains of breakfast on the table around them. They had eaten in silence, both of them shaken and processing. The fear of what might have been hovering behind their shoulders with cold teeth, refusing to let them forget.

MC pulled her cardigan closer around her, fighting a shiver. She felt his gaze and looked up. There was colour in his cheeks now. He looked like her Sebastian. "What?" She whispered.

"I thought you were dead," he said. The words seemed to catch in his throat and he had to look down.

She swallowed. The words hit her hard. She remembered how he had looked when she had found him. There were no words to describe the hollow, black hole of fear and loss that had threatened to swallow her at that sight.

"We fucked up," she said. She put her palms to her forehead and leant on the table. "We lost the relic, we lost him, and we nearly lost our lives. What the fuck happened?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

MC looked at him, her fear was still there, mocking her and she smothered it with anger. She shoved her chair back from the table and stood, turning to begin pacing their little kitchen. "Why do you always have to be so reckless? You went storming into that room, as per usual, and then everything was fucked up."

"So, this is all my fault?" He gaped. He made a fist against the table top. "If you weren't so obsessed with that fucking relic, maybe you would have taken the time to notice the charms placed around it!"

"It's a bit rich to be preaching to me about obsessing over relics," she snapped back. She pushed a hand through her hair. "You can be such a hypocrite sometimes."

He shot out of his chair and made a grab for her. His hand gripped her arm and he definitely had his strength back. "You're really going to go there?"

MC looked up at him, stared into those eyes that she knew so well. Eyes that had nearly closed on her forever. Her anger evaporated, and all that was left was her fear and her pain. She shook her head. "I thought I had lost you," she gasped. Tears sprang up into her eyes. "You were fucking dead, Sebastian! I had to bring you back, because...because none of it is worth it if you're gone. None of it."

His throat worked as he stared back at her, his grip on her arm tightened.

"Don't make me ever see you like that again," she said. "I can't..."

His arms swallowed her up and crushed her against his chest. She clung to him as though he would vanish if she ever let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, firmly. "Not without you."

His mouth pressed kisses into her hair, over her forehead and down to her ear. She lifted her face to him and he claimed her mouth, his kiss a demand and a promise. She gripped his shirt, tugging at the material, pulling at the buttons desperately until they gave way. They pinged free, spinning across the room to clatter across the floor. She needed to feel his skin, his warmth. Feel him alive under her hands.

His hunger for her burned as fiercely, he rid her of her cardigan and blouse, hands seeking out her soft curves. He lifted her, perching her on the edge of the table, cups and plates shoved messily out of the way. Cutlery clattered to the floor.

His mouth tortured the skin of her neck, sucking the soft skin into blooming bruises, proof that her heart beat for him, she was alive. There was nothing gentle about their movements, it was a primal need to join, an instinct. Her legs wrapped around him, possessive, needy and his fingers sought out her searing heat.

MC's head dipped back, a low moan drawn from her lips as he stroked and teased, shifting to press his arousal against her ready folds. She braced her arms against the table behind her, back arched, giving him a glorious view of her breasts. He swirled a tongue over one hardened peak and thrust deeply into her.

Sebastian had fucked his wife many times, but this time there was something deeper, a rawness to it that shook him to the core. His fingers dug into her hips, gripping her as he thrust harder and faster, watching her breasts bounce with his relentless rhythm. The sounds that tore from her lips drove him wild, the sheen of sweat forming on her chest made him want to press the flat of his tongue against it and drown in her scent.

The table shuddered beneath them, the legs scraping against the floor, dishes rattled and still he pressed. She reached out a hand, pressing the palm to his chest, her cheeks were flooded with beautiful colour. She looked alive, beautiful.

The tone of her cries shifted, he could see the flush of warmth spreading across her skin, the subtle tightening around his cock. He rolled his hips, hitting that little sweet spot, his lips parted as he watched her come undone, a string of saliva hanging from his lip.

He looked down at his cock sliding into her, the slick pulsing to coat him with shiny wetness. With a deep groan of release he buried himself inside her heat, his cock pulsing almost painfully, his breath a hot gasp through his lips.

MC sat up, her arms circling his neck, pulling him closer. He buried his face into her hair, savouring the sound of her breathing, the warmth of her embrace and the rapid beat of her precious heart.

Losing her would be the end of his world, and knowing that she felt the same was more precious, more sacred, than any relic or career-making arrest.

[justagalwhowrites]

OMG bestiessssss 😭

There are 2,000 of you here??? Two THOUSAND??????

This is crazy to me, absolutely bonkers. Thank you thank you thank you for being here and for caring about these stories and for being so lovely. I know I haven't been as interactive lately (I dunno what my deal is, I haven't been reading as much either, I keep just rereading some of my faves instead of finding something new even if it's something new I know I'll love) but please know that every single time I get an alert from this crazy website, it makes me smile. I love every like, every reblog, every comment and every ask and I love all of you. It truly means the world to me that you're here and that we've built this beautiful little corner of the internet. I can't thank you enough for that.

I'm not sure what I want to do to celebrate this? I'm open to suggestions! Is there something you'd enjoy?

In the meantime, ask me anything if you want? Fic related or me related (though that's exceedingly boring), whatever you're vibing with.

Anyway, I love you all so much. Thank you for being one of the highlights of my life ❤️

[krislin]

Monster Sides

A Sanders Sides Monster AU fic

Summary:

In a dark forest, some distance away from the capital, but right outside a small village, lived six individuals.

These six were seen as cursed, as monsters.

But those in the forest saw them as a part of nature, maybe even guardians.

These six were a close family, living together and helping each other.

Word Count: 4590

The land of the large kingdom was extraordinary. The meadows were a beautiful green, the skies a bright blue, and the weather was usually at its best. Gentle winds blew over. The grass and leaves dancing softly alongside it. The forests around in the kingdom were a significant source of materials for the city, towns, and villages. All from herbs, to food, and to wood could be gathered in these gatherings of flora.

But there was one forest in the kingdom that none dared to even approach. 

Next to a small village, a fair distance away from the capital of the kingdom, was a large, gloomy forest. Objectively, one would say it looked no different from any other forests in the territory of the kingdom, but for the people, it was a cursed and dangerous place.

After centuries of living next to that forest, people had come to learn to never step inside, or even close to it. It didn't even take long after the village was first established that they found out something dangerous resided in the darkness between the large, old trees. 

Or not just something.

Deep in the forest stood a large and old, almost run-down, mansion. But no human lived inside.

Or preferably said, no full human.

All the creatures belonging to the forest knew who they were, and what they were. But they all lived in harmony.

Because in the mansion lived six men. All hybrids that made them only half human.

Many would see them as monsters, but the fauna saw them as much of a part of nature as themselves. Maybe even more. The nature of the forest would sometimes even call them the guardians of their home.

Outside the mansion laid a small lake. Next to the lake was one of the six. The man had bright brown hair and round gray glasses on his face. As a silhouette, he would have the appearance of a normal human, but in the light, one would immediately take their words back. His skin was a slight shade of green, and clearly looking moist. The man smiled brightly as he skipped alongside the lake side. His leaps were longer and higher than possible for the normal human. 

Because this is Patton. The frog hybrid of the mansion.

Patton continued to hum and skip his way back towards the mansion. His beams were as bright as he was known for every time he saw an animal or a pretty plant close by. Even if he knew their domain well, it always made his day to see the forest in such a pretty state.

The sound of a hysterical cackle came from the trees next to him, but it didn't alert the man. Patton only smiled widely as he stopped to turn in the direction. "Remus! Back already?" he beamed as he waved towards the rustling bushes closing in.

Through the bushes stretched a dark green tentacles, placing itself on the ground to drag its core forwards. "Heya, Croakie!" the man, Remus, grinned when through the plants. The man had the upper body of a human with dark brown hair with a silver highlight on his bangs. But his lower body was of just dark green tentacles with black dots on the top. 

This is Remus. The octopus hybrid of the mansion.

"You should have seen those brats!" Remus told, laughing hysterically as he dragged his tentacles to approach the other. "They had the audacity to make a dare to approach our territory! But that just made the day so much better!" he laughed, as he held his right arm to the side. He held his hand open, and suddenly green sparkles sparkled over his palm, and his morning star fell into his hold. "It's been far too long since I got to play with the humans!"

"Now, now, kiddo. I know they're humans, but don't be too harsh on them. Especially if they were kids," Patton softly scolded the other. But even with his hands on his hips, there was still a slight amused smile on his face. Patton may ever be the optimist, friendly, and peaceful one, but even he had the disliking to the human species.

Snickers filled the air around them as Remus explained the humorous scene to Patton. They had never hurt any humans, unless necessary. They only wanted the selfish species to stay away from their territory and those residing in it; them, the animals, and all the plants.

The sound of wing beats reached them through the silent air, making the two turn to see the third of the six flying in for a landing. Patton beamed seeing the man, jumping high in joy as he landed. "Logan!" he beamed, leaping to immediately stand next to him. "Everyone's back early! This is great!"

This one is Logan. The owl hybrid of the mansion.

"Indeed," Logan answered, a tiny smile of joy visible. He tucked his dark brown feathered wings into his back, then turned to the octopus hybrid. "It would seem your scare has given us the boost for a peaceful day today."

"Of course!" Remus beamed at the praise hidden behind the sentence. A hand was proudly placed to his chest, his weapon disappearing with a green light. "But as much as I wished to play with them more, Hoarder and I have something to finish."

Logan's black hair blew to the passing wind as he narrowed his eyes at the other. "If this is that creation competition you are talking about, I do hope you tend to mend what you break and make sure he doesn't hoard more than he already has."

"Hey!" an offended yell came from the mansion. They all turned, and they all saw a man with red hair and red dragon wings and tail come flying over. "I am only keeping the necessary things in life in our home. Thank you very much!" The man landed down by the group, but he was mostly throwing Remus a glare, which earned a grin back.

This man is Roman. The dragon hybrid of the mansion.

A deep sigh left Logan, and Roman turned to the owl hybrid to see the man shaking his head. "The pile of unnecessary equipment and object in your hoarding room says otherwise, I believe." Logan turned his eyes to look at the dragon hybrid through his black glasses. The talons of his hand were raised to adjust the glasses properly back on his nose again. "But as long as it doesn't pile up outside that room, do as you please."

"Great!" Roman beamed, but shook his head and coughed into his fist of clawed hand. "I mean-. Like it will ever overfill. There's so much room left inside! I can still fly inside, you know!"

"Now, now, do not lie," another man's voice came from behind, a slight hiss in his speech. Everyone turned around to see a man with a bright yellow snake lower body slithering towards them from the mansion. The man's snake tongue flicked out, but looking rather amused as he slithered closer. The left side of his face had greenish-yellow scales which almost gleamed in the light, and on top of his brown hair laid a black fedora with a yellow ribbon around the base. "You know lying to us won't do."

This is Janus. The snake hybrid of the mansion.

Roman rolled his eyes at the fifth man of the group as he stopped by them. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Slithering Scales," the man scoffed out, but gave out a small smile as he nudged the yellow snake hybrid with his elbow. But a small scoff them came from him, and his red eyes glanced between Janus and Patton. "But you two alright to be out? Winter's approaching, you know."

"Ever the overprotective hoarder you are," Janus commented as he rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile as he shook his head. "We are fine. The season is yet to properly begin. We cold-bloods have survived multiple winter already, you know."

"Yeah!" Patton beamed, leaping around them all. "Your fire and my strange, dark son's clothes and blankets really help!"

Roman gave out a pleased smile at the response, but he did give out a pout at Janus's comment. As part dragon, of course he would be protective of his hoard. And his main, and most precious, treasure he had in said hoard was his family. "Great to hear, Padre," he smiled at Patton, but turned to glance back at the mansion. "Speaking of him, where is he?"

"He was resting in his web the last time I saw him," Janus shrugged as he answered the other. "I had him rest after creating a bit too much silk for his crocheting and knitting later. He doesn't eat enough for the silk production he's doing."

"My poor kiddo!" Patton immediately spoke out in horror and concern. The man made a giant leap towards the mansion, but the sound of skittering had him stop.

Everyone glanced up the walls of the mansion. And out one of the top windows, something came out. "Hey, Snake Face, I have control of my own health, you know," the last of those calling the mansion their home said. The man had black hair and a black hoodie on, but his lower body was of a large spider body. Though his upper body wasn't fully human. The man had eight eyes, six fully purple and the last two human brown, and on each side of his mouth he had the fangs of a spider, which moved slightly as he spoke. And his lower body, his spider body, was large enough for someone to actually sit on his back, but mostly having to curl into themselves to not get hit by the eight legs as the man crawled around.

This is Virgil. The spider hybrid of the mansion.

Virgil crawled down the wall of the mansion, his spider legs letting him walk on any surface without troubles. He crawled down to step down on the grass, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at the snake hybrid. "And for your information, I had just stopped when you slithered in. I was just about to start crocheting, but you just had to barge in."

"Whatever you say, Spiderling," Janus responded, rolling his eyes, but throwing him a smile. "Just make sure to rest. You work too much when winter approaches. You're cold-blooded as well, so you need your rest, especially with the stress of the season."

A scoff left the spider hybrid, but he shook his head and let his arms fall down, his black clawed fingers having a few short silk threads dangling down and dancing to the breeze. "I'm the one making clothes and blankets, you know. So for now, I'm the warmest cold-blooded here."

The chirp of birds came as two magpies came flying down, landing on the back of the spider hybrid. The birds chirped happily up at them all, and they all smiled and greeted back with a nod. Virgil gave the two a smile, and he moved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Getting something out of the pocket, Virgil got out a small crochet blanket of his silk, handing it over to the two small birds.

"Here you go," Virgil spoke, smiling as he handed the birds the small blanket. "Stay safe and warm in your nest now. The cold's approaching soon." The magpies gave him joyful and thankful chirps, and the two grabbed the silk blanket and flew off into the forest. Virgil smiled as he watched them fly off, but turned to glance at the others again, also taking notice of the skies above turning dark. "Well, evening's coming, so I better get to my route while handing out what I got."

"Alright, stay safe, kiddo!" Patton beamed at the other, beaming brightly as Virgil went to crawl past them. "Let us know if you need anything, alright?"

"Of course, Popstar," Virgil responded, giving a salute over his shoulder as he headed for the trees behind. Suddenly the man stopped and turned around to face them again. "Oh, and I repaired all the stuff with holes in them," he informed them all, earning beams of delight in return. "That includes the plushies. They're all on my web, so get them whenever."

Cheers erupted from Patton, Remus, and Roman, while Janus and Logan smiled with a nod of appreciation. "You're awesome, Virge!" Roman beamed, eyes visibly sparkling with joy before he spun around to bolt into the mansion to fetch what Virgil had repaired for him.

Patton was not far behind the flying dragon, Remus quick to follow as well. Janus and Logan was left, chuckling alongside Virgil as they watched the others charge in with such energy. "Thank you, Virgil. It is much appreciated," Logan said with a smile at the spider. "But stay safe out. Remus most definitely has scared the humans away for today, but one never know when it comes to that species."

"Yes, yes, I know," Virgil answered, rolling his eyes. "No need to say that every time. I can take care of myself. My poison is paralyzing for a reason."

"Yes, Remus had you show so too many times," Janus agreed, snorting at the memories of the octopus hybrid constantly having Virgil paralyze some of his detached tentacles after regenerating new ones for fun. "Just make sure you don't freeze. The colder you get, the slower you get. And that means the longer in the cold you will be."

Virgil huffed in response, but gave no other answer as he turned to leave the place. Janus and Logan watched as the spider left into the forest, and the two turned to head into the mansion themselves. 

*************

Virgil silently hummed to himself as he crawled between trees and bushes. Each step his eight legs took made a tiny sound in the grass and leaves, and with the speed of his steps, his crawling always sounded like skittering. And many in the forest recognized that skittering.

Birds, squirrels, deer, and all the animals of the forest would glance up and approach him during his routes through their home. Virgil greeted them all with a small smile, and many animals came either leaping, running, or flying over. The day was turning dark, a time where most would go to lie down for the day, but seeing the hybrid being close, they'd always come over to greet him.

"Hey, guys," Virgil softly greeted. All the animals joyfully greeted back, and a soft chuckle left the hybrid as bunnies, squirrels, and birds came to rest on his spider back. "Hope you're all doing well. But since winter is approaching, I came to give you all new blankets."

The spider put his hands into his pocket, and out came a roll of blankets of his silk. All of the animals grew visibly joyful, and Virgil smiled, pleased to see them like it. He handed out blankets, one by one to the animals around him. All the deer got the larger blankets over them, the birds got the smallest to carry to their nests, and the squirrels and bunnies got the perfect size for them, or larger ones if Virgil knew they had a family. All the other animals with them got their blankets as well, and Virgil was happy as to how tight he rolled the blankets, seeing that it was good that he brought as many as he could.

Virgil lifted the last blanket in his hold to hand to another pair of birds, but the sudden harsh gust of a wind had it fly out of their hold. The birds chirped in dismay as the silk was blown away from them, and they watched it quickly disappear into the darkness with a distressed look.

"Oh, crap..." the spider muttered, seeing the blanket fly between all the trees and much farther away through his night vision. "That was my last one too..." The birds' chirps was low and short, both lowering down to the ground in sadness. "Hey, hey, it's alright," Virgil assured them, gently holding down his hands to them. Both birds glanced up at him, but jumped onto his palms for him to lift them up. Virgil held them up and guided them to his left front leg, letting them jump on to rest right by him. "Don't worry, I can quickly make a new one. It's all fine."

Questioning chirps came from the two, and Virgil gave a soft chuckle as he shook his head. He quickly reassured them once again, and he raised a clawed finger to his mouth and stretched out multiple silk threads, enough to make a thick enough thread to use.

"Won't take long. Don't worry," Virgil mumbled as he moved the thread to his left pointy finger, using his right one to drag out more silk from his mouth. Unlike normal spiders, Virgil created silk from his mouth, usually using his fangs to hold the thread still as he used his clawed fingers to crochet, knitt, or sew with. And his clawed fingers were able to make a small hook at the tip, which was what made him able to crochet, but for knitting and sewing, and outside all that, he usually kept his claws straight and pointy.

Virgil laid on the ground as he started. His legs, except the one the birds sat on, halfway tucked under his body to lie comfortably. Most of the animals had left to sleep for the approaching night, but some continued to stay around the spider, curled in their blanket as they peacefully watched the hybrid crochet another of his blankets.

The birds happily chirped as they watched him masterfully create their blanket, and Virgil smiled as he glanced to the side at them.

Unusual gusts of winds came to their hearing, and they glanced up at the dark night sky to see something red come flying over them. "Ah, there you are, Spider Nightful!" Roman was to speak as he beamed seeing them under him. The dragon flapped his wings to slowly lower down to the ground, careful of the trees' branches. But as he landed his feet down on the ground, he raised an eyebrow at the glare Virgil was throwing at him. "What?"

"Mind your wings, Flame Head. I'm crocheting here, and your gusts are not helping," Virgil scoffed, but returned to his crocheting, being close to finishing the small silk blanket for the two waiting birds.

"And why are you out here, working more in the middle of the cold night after not having had your meal after your last production?" Roman challenged the other, a protective glare thrown at him through narrowed eyes. "I am certain you have not eaten anything protein filled since you left. You know you'll grow weak if you're lacking that, Virgil! You can't go producing more silk without refilling yourself!"

Another scoff left the spider, and he finished off his blanket as he sent the other a glare. "Geez, never took you to be one to sound like Logan," he commented, but averted his gaze to give the blanket to the thankful birds. The birds gave thankful chirps and took off with their new blanket, and Virgil gave them a small smile before turning it into a sigh as he turned back to the dragon. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to stay in the mansion to keep up the fire for the others?"

"Logan can hold the fire up long enough until I return," Roman answered with a shrug, but stepped forwards to give Virgil a push in the direction of their home. "You're much later than normal, and you need my fire just as much as them! So off we go now, Night Crawl!"

"Alright, alright, Ro! Geez!" Virgil yelled, but sighed as he shook his head. "I know you're a hoarder, but keep it down, could you? You know I can defend myself if something would suddenly come."

"Whatever you say, V," was all Roman responded before grabbing the spider's wrist to drag him along with him. Virgil groaned as he was dragged by Roman, who power-walked through the forest. The dragon hybrid was dedicated on bringing the spider with him back home before the air grew too cold for the cold-blooded. Roman threw the other a glare after hearing the annoyed groan. "You have no right to do that, Emo Nightmare. Only one hoodie isn't good enough! You don't even have any of your blankets on you! What you have on isn't enough to keep you warm, and you know that!" Roman scolded, only receiving an annoyed deadpan in return, which he ignored as he faced forward again, all out on getting home. "This is why you need my fire!"

A snort came from the other, but he didn't speak out. He knew Roman was in his protective hoarder mode because of his longer than usual absence. And because of that, he knew it was futile to fight against it. He never fought against it, only showing his annoyance or teasing the other, whichever fit the situation best. 

It wasn't long until they came to the treeline ending by their mansion. Stepping through the last bushes, they appeared in the back garden of their home. Faint light danced on the grass during the darkness of the night, so Roman strode towards the back door, still dragging the spider with him.

Roman swung the old wooden door open, stepping into the indoor light with Virgil right behind. The moment they stepped inside, Virgil felt the change in temperature, and a silent sigh of relief left him. The spider's shoulders slumped down at the warmth, not having to force an appearance anymore.

"Come," Roman spoke with a stern voice, but stepping through the room and towards the living room right by. Another sigh left Virgil, but the spider crawled after to follow into the warmer room.

Huddled together in some type of pile were the others. Janus and Patton laid in the middle, Remus using his tentacles to keep the large blanket over them in place, and Logan standing by the fire in the fireplace. Hearing the two return home, Patton beamed brightly, almost jumping out of his spot as he waved them over.

Roman smiled at the frog hybrid, but turned to give Virgil a brief nod to then take Logan's place by the fire. Logan gave the dragon a nod, and he stepped to join the pile of hybrids to help keep the warmth for the cold-blooded ones.

Virgil soon came to crawl over, and Remus lifted some of his tentacles, a part of the blanket while at it, so the spider could join in the middle, the spot for the cold ones. When tucking in his legs and lying down, Janus wrapped his long tail around him, but placing an arm on his back as support. With Virgil's body being a lot different, his back basically going ninety degree up from his spider body, he always only laid with his spider body, his human top having to hang or lean into something for support.

Remus stretched the blanket out to lie over the spider's back, but stretched a different tentacle to fetch another blanket to their side. With the new blanket, he wrapped it around Virgil's shoulder, having the spider now fully covered. Finished with his job, he continued to have his tentacles spread to keep the blanket over the three firmly in place, even if they were to move slightly.

But having nothing much but an arm to support his back, Virgil raised a finger to his mouth for his silk. He needed something to lean on, or his back would turn stiff again, and a single thread hanging from the ceiling would be enough for him. But as he went to do so, a growl from Roman had him stop to turn and raise an eyebrow.

"What did I just tell you earlier?" Roman questioned, eyes obviously narrowed with a warning look.

A huff left the spider, but he let his hand fall back down. A demanding look was shot back, and the dragon immediately went to drag over a cushioned stool for him.

When the furniture was in arm reach, Virgil immediately dragged it over and leaned onto it with crossed arms.

Seeing as everything was finally settled, a sigh of pleasure came from Patton, and he melted into the pile. With everyone back home, and Roman keeping a bright fire burning for them, everything was perfect. The group had always lived together and had this routine for the colder times. The more warm-blooded would always make sure the cold-blooded were all well in health, not growing cold or sick. 

Remus, as an octopus hybrid, should also be a cold-blooded, but for some miracle, he was actually not. Maybe it was from his creation magic, like Roman's, or if it was his relation to the dragon hybrid, no one knew. They were just glad he wasn't cold-blooded as well. Knowing he would have been a difficult one to keep healthy as so. That man was always all around. All from being underwater in the lake, to climbing in the trees, to doing his job to scare off all the humans daring to step close to their territory. Keeping him constantly warm enough would be a pain for them all, so they were thankful for that miracle.

Logan got up from his place, his wings tucked behind his back, but Virgil could see the others had helped him groom by the time he had gotten back, or more like Roman dragged him back. "I will go and start on something for us all to eat," Logan stated, heading to the kitchen, leaving the group to continue to huddle together for warmth. "I will be right back."

"Alright! But call if you need help!" Patton called after the other, but cuddled closed to Janus as he hugged the silk blanket closer to them.

"He'll be fine like usual, Padre," Roman chuckled as he stepped over to take Logan's place by the frog. "He does fine in the kitchen. Though I do still prefer your meals, but the priority is to keep you warm."

A small chuckle left Patton, and the man croaked as he reached an arm up at the dragon. Roman smiled as he took it, and Patton dragged him down to lie with them. An amused laugh came from Roman, but he got himself comfortable by the pile, but making sure he had good view of the fire, being ready to strengthen it if it was to weaken for even a moment. 

Everything was nice, cozy, and peaceful for them as another normal day passed by. The six men were as close as one could be without being blood-related, with the exception of Remus and Roman that is. And they would continue to be a close family of unique specimen, who stood out from everything else in the world.

The moon of the night sky shone beautifully down over the mansion as they all feasted and cuddled together for warmth and rest. This was all they ever needed, and it was all they ever wanted.

This is the hybrids' mansion. Their home.