#i promise writing long tags can actually be pretty fun ��

[6okuto]

heads up :p

hello. archiving my blog soon. like in the next month or so. not shocking. i still have a lot to queue but i needed to say this so i can't back out for the gazillionth time 😭 i don't have a new blog and i'm not sure if or when i'll be back. as for 6okuto, i probably won't delete it! probably.

thanks for being here for almost 3 years!! it was really nice writing for the first time and getting to know you guys. please take care of yourselves, and i hope you have a good end to 2024! ^^

and just a final request to tell creators you enjoy their work. i can't tell you how many times one kind person stopped me from doing this a lot earlier. please help make tumblr a kinder and stronger community !!

regular pinned - masterlists

[quin-ns]

Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his

Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun

A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…

TLOU masterlist + main masterlist

After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.

What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?

Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.

You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.

You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.

If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.

Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.

Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.

You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—

“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.

You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”

You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”

Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.

“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.

“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.

“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”

“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.

It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”

Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.

“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.

The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.

“If you’re against sharing with me.”

So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.

“I’m not.”

All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.

“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”

You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”

“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”

“For you maybe.”

“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”

The sudden apology confused you. “What?”

“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”

His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.

“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”

“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.

“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”

“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”

A wave of realization crashed over you.

You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.

“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.

“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.

Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.

“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.

There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.

Not that you minded.

His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner

Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.

But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.

“You need sleep,” he reminded you.

Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…

So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.

“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.

[strang3lov3]

Dark But Just A Game

You and Roman play tag. (5k)

Tags - noncon, one shot, smut, dark!Roman, maybe even slasher!roman??? unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, finger sucking, come eating, oral sex (f!receiving) violence, manhandling, inappropriate use of a box cutter - no gore though, i promise. i'm too squeamish to actually injure characters and deal with describing that. lack of aftercare, typical Roman sexism, Roman taunting, gaslighting, intimidating, lying, bullying. Takes place on Halloween. If you need more detailed warnings, message me. Fic help - MY BABY @endlessthxxghts!! thanks for having it in you to edit this A/N - I had fun with this creep!!! I plan to do more dark!roman in the future where he’s your creepazoid landlord stalker guy. Probably not as extreme as this fuck. This is my early Halloween treat for all of you 🎃 hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday!

If you’re interested in the music I listened to while writing this

“Can I leave now?”

Roman looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head as he sighs. “No, and quit asking me. You’re not leaving until I’m done.”

Fucker. 

You’d never noticed before just how uncomfortable the couch in Roman’s office is, but after laying on it for the last three hours, you’re painfully aware. The material is scratchy, it’s uninviting. More for show than comfort, no doubt. Roman’s at his desk typing, scrolling, doing god knows what on his computer. What does he even do, actually? You’ve worked with Roman for a long time now and you hear him talk a lot about work, but as far as doing work - actually working, he does fuck all. “You never do anything, never, and now you’re…?”

“Watching porn, nuisance. Very important. Now fuck off.” 

You don’t doubt that he really is watching porn, honestly. This is the third time you’ve asked Roman what he’s doing and you have yet to receive a legitimate answer. He’s got you stuck here in his office as he works - or whatever it is he’s doing - until he’s done. The rest of the building emptied out hours ago but Roman kept you late, insisting that he’d need you for something. Yet so far, he hasn’t needed you for anything. But you can’t leave, though. Per Roman’s instructions, you are not allowed to leave the building by yourself. 

He couldn’t give two fucks usually, but knowing that you park in the garage, where it’s less secure than the rest of the building, Roman likes to walk you out when you’re all alone. There’s been incidents in that garage before. Nothing severe enough to actually do something about it or - more likely - nobody at Waystar really cares to. Nobody except for Roman, who insists on making sure you’re never alone in that garage. He doesn’t know why that is exactly. Maybe he’s got a soft spot for you. 

Your phone died a half hour ago, and you left your charger in your car. Roman’s minimalistic analog clock reads eleven-something; you can’t exactly tell the time with the way the silver hands lay on the white background, the glare of the lights, and how the numbers aren’t even labeled. “Do you even like that clock?”

“What clock?” You point to it. It takes Roman a second to peel his eyes from his monitor, and then he squints at it. “Huh. That clock. Never noticed it before.” And his attention is back on his screen. Roman looks handsome even under the harsh, bluish light from his computer, the rest of the room pretty dark. He had you turn off the overhead lighting an hour ago. It was giving him a headache. 

“I’m ready to go, Roman.”

Roman huffs. “Jesus Christ. I. Know. God, you’re like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in my fucking ear. What, am I keeping you from something? Costume party? Fucking - I don’t know. Passing out candy?” 

“No, but–” 

“But what?” 

“I’m tired.” 

It’s the truth, you are tired. And you did have plans, too. It’s Halloween, and you love to watch the same three slasher movies by yourself every year with a bowl of shitty microwave popcorn and some fun-sized candies. You’ve got a variety bag of candy in your car you picked up earlier in preparation, actually. But as the hours passed being stuck in Roman’s office, you gave up on that plan. You’d really just like to go home and sleep.

“Then take a nap,” Roman says. “I’m not even making you work. You’re getting paid to sit there and bitch to me. I can make you shred papers or something, though. Is that what you want?” 

“I shredded your papers yesterday.” 

“Then I’ll make you shred the blank ones. Scroll through Instagram and shut up.” 

You roll your eyes. What a fucking asshole. Roman goes back to his screen, and you take some time to watch him. He just…stares. At nothing. The screen doesn’t change, it’s just that same blue-white light reflected on his face. Roman’s eyes are glazed over, his brow is pinched together. He just seems not totally there right now. He’s probably rereading the same email over and over again, but you do that too. Focus too hard on trying to be productive that you end up moving in the opposite direction.

Fuck this. Roman will keep you here until sunrise at this rate, so you pack up your purse. “I’m going to my car,” you say, walking across the room. 

Roman glares at you. “Don’t,” he says, pointing in your direction. “It’s Halloween and there’s nutjobs out there. Do you know what could happen to a girl like you in a parking garage all by yourself?”

You scoff, “Fuck off. You’re ridiculous, Roman.” 

Roman bites down on his smile to hide his amusement. You’re his first assistant to take none of his shit, who bites him back. What Roman lacks in size and personality, he makes up for in power and status, and he uses that advantage to bully anyone lower than himself. Never works on you, though. Roman wonders how he could change that. Everyone’s got a breaking point.

“I’m leaving.”

“No. If you leave without me, so help me god I will - I don’t know. I’ll hunt you down. I am asking you to give me just like, five minutes. Can you wait five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Five minutes, my ass.” You take your hand off the door handle and lean against the frame. “What’s this about hunting me down?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll hunt you down.” Roman rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Sounds fun. Like tag,” you smirk. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and saunter towards Roman at his desk, then tap his shoulder. “You’re it.” 

Roman says your name in a threatening tone. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m not fucking with you. Go sit down.”

You tap Roman again, then open the door. You dangle one foot out of the frame, giggling as you threaten to run. “I’m going to my car.” 

Roman sighs and leans back in his rolling chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Always a game to you, huh?”

“Not always. But right now, yeah. Play with me, Roman. For like, five minutes.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “I have some Halloween candy in my car. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, really? Anything at all?” Roman watches you nod, a mischievous smile on your face. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s thinking worse. “Hmm. Enticing. Yeah, alright. I’ll fucking play game, fucking show you. I’ll even give you a headstart, hm? I’m feeling generous.”

“Really? How long?”

“Don’t know yet, so you better run fast. But–” Roman pauses, mulling an idea over in his head. “You can’t use the elevator.” 

“What do you mean, ‘can’t use the elevator’?”

“Sound it out,” he mocks. “What do you think it means?” Fucking asshole. You roll your eyes as you play with the door a little, swinging it open and closed little by little. “Those are my terms.” Roman folds his arms across his chest.

“Are you gonna use the elevator?”

Roman makes a face and shakes his head. “Of course not. We’re gonna play fair and square. You run, I run. But faster, obviously. So you better get the fuck out, sweetheart.” 

“Okay. You’re on,” you smile. “Peace out, then.” 

And that’s it. Roman watches you leave. He cranes his neck a little to watch the direction you turn, and like a good girl who follows his rules, you go for the staircase. 

Roman never had such complicated feelings about a woman before you came along, which says a lot given the fact he’s never had a normal relationship with a woman either. He’s perturbed by your fierceness, your independence and confidence in the face of everything you put up with at Waystar and from Roman himself. A dirty joke in the car, a pinch on your ass cheek in the elevator. It does nothing to get under your skin or make you squirm. Your happiness, that stupid smile you wear. Your laughter and your sense of humor. He wants to break down all of those parts of you, just to see if he can debase you to his level. So tonight, he’ll humor you and play the game, if that’s what it takes. Just for shits and giggles. What other opportunity does he have to do this, anyway? If you get away, win the game of tag, so be it. But if you don’t, you’re his to do with what he wants. He’ll get you in his arms and he’ll…he’ll…

Roman closes out the windows on his Mac, then shuts the computer down entirely. He smiles a little at the small Snoopy figurine you put on his desk one day after he mentioned liking the character. You told him it made sense, that you could see it. Him liking Snoopy’s character, that is. Roman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a boxcutter, turning the tool over in his hand. There’s not even a good reason for him to have it. But he’s not gonna do anything, of course. Obviously he’d never do anything real. He’ll just…freak you out a little. It’s Halloween night, after all. If there was any time for a spook and all that. 

Roman holds the boxcutter tightly in his hand as he stands up. He leaves his jacket on the back of the chair, his phone on his desk. He shuts off the lights and follows after you, taking sure steps as he walks that first hall. He turns down the same staircase that you did and peers over the ledge where he can see that you’re running your way down. The door behind him shuts loudly and startles you, an excited giggle escaping your lips. He wishes he felt excitement like that too.

Roman guesses you’re about seven levels below the top floor where you started when you enter the closest door to yourself. He repeats the floor number to himself through whispers, pacing his way down the steps. Bits of his hair are falling out of place, tickling his eyes and the bridge of his nose. 

Roman barges through the same door you entered and scans the dark room for your body. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust, but he thinks he sees it - your shoe poking out from behind a desk as you crouch. He tiptoes closer to you, peering over more desks and boxes of paper to see if he can spot you, or if his mind is playing a trick on him. He curses when the floor creaks under one of his steps. “God - fuck,” he hisses. 

You hear him in front of you. There’s quite a distance between you and him yet, but you’re a sitting duck just waiting here. In the trash bin under the desk you’re hiding behind you spot a plastic water bottle still a quarter full. Quietly, gingerly, you pull it out and toss it in the corner of the room so that Roman’s attention turns to where it clattered.

You crawl around the cubicle, then rise to your feet to move quicker. Roman inspects the water bottle, then the desk where he thought he saw you. His footsteps are getting louder, so you sprint as quietly as you can into one of the nearby cubicles, your back against the wall as you hold your breath.  

With wide eyes, you watch Roman walk right past yourself in the cubicle. You feel giddy at the thought of winning this game, so giddy you have to cover your own mouth to stifle a laugh of excitement. You poke your head out of the cubicle a little and watch Roman turn to the left, then make a mad dash for the exit and sprint back down the stairs. 

Roman had thought about going back to the staircase so that you’d have to meet him there, but he decided against it - the game doesn’t last as long that way. He lets you run down the steps so that you tire yourself out a bit and he walks the other direction until he’s standing in front of the elevator he promised he wouldn’t get on. Roman presses the button with the arrow pointing down and smirks to himself, flicking the switch of the boxcutter, poking the blade in and out, in and out. The elevator dings and the doors open, Roman takes it down to garage level. 

He waits. Flicks the blade up and down, up and down. 

-

That blue P for parking sign has never looked so beautiful. You catch your breath for a second at the bottom of the stairs, then look up to see if you can see Roman. He’s not there, but you don’t believe he didn’t hear you leave that one floor you played cat and mouse on. Maybe he went down a different staircase, he does know the building better than you do. After catching your breath, you cautiously open the door to the garage. Roman perks up when he hears the horn of your car beeping repeatedly as you unlock it, fidgeting with the button on your keys. “Fuckin’ obnoxious,” he mutters to himself, waiting for you to walk far enough away before pressing the ‘door open’ button on the elevator so that you don’t hear the sound. 

Relief watches over you as you make it through the parking garage, all cold and damp and smelling of concrete and oil, and no sign of Roman. You look around - It’s eerie in here, a liminal with its fluorescent lighting, but not quite bright enough to light up the dark atmosphere. Each floor is completely empty, save for your car. You smile as you reach your vehicle and open the back door, your heart pounding, exhilarated that you outran Roman as you toss your belongings onto the seat.  

You feel it before you hear it. Warmth against your back, a bulge against your ass. A hand over your mouth, fingers and thumb harshly digging into the hollows of your cheeks. Your eyes widen as you squeal in fear and excitement. 

Roman has you held tightly against his chest - he wins the game. But he realizes that he didn’t actually think this far. Didn’t think about what he’d do once he had you in his arms. If he’d catch and release, or if he has more in mind than that. As Roman contemplates, you start to squirm and panic - this has gone on too long. You don’t even know that the person holding you is Roman, so you thrash against him. It only serves to excite the man, to hold you tighter so that he’s hurting you. 

“Hey, shhhh...shut up. Shut the fuck up. Stop - fuck - fucking squirming. It's me, okay? Relax. It’s just Roman.” The identification doesn’t calm you much. Something about him feels off. “Tag, remember? I got you. You’re it.”

Roman waves to you in the window opposite to your position, wiggling his fingers as he wears a bizarre smile, the shadows on his face making him look all dark and severe. There's something in his hand, too. Metallic and sharp-looking.You don’t register what it is until he presses it against your side and you can make out the object. A boxcutter. Roman threatens to push it further and you gasp, though with his hand over your mouth you don’t breath in much air. “I told you l’d fucking show you, didn’t I? Hey - didn’t I?”

Roman tugs your blouse up your torso, grazing the tip of the blade up and down your ribcage. You watch it happen in the window, tears springing up in your eyes. This doesn’t feel like a game, and if it is, you want no part of it. This feels...this feels scary. Roman’s taking it too far, and it feels real. A few tears roll down your cheeks, down the back of Roman's hand. You don’t wanna play this game anymore.

“Tears, huh? That didn't take long. Should check Guinness. See if you broke a record or something.” Roman lightly draws the blade over your skin, writing his name in sloppy cursive letters. R-O-M-A-N. He could press hard against your skin and his signature would be carved into you permanently. “I know, I know,” he whispers. “Are you regretting this?”

You nod. Roman's palm is becoming damp with your warm breath, your tears collecting between his hand and your skin. You try to pull him away from you so you can speak, but he holds on tighter.

“I asked you before if you knew what could happen to a girl like you in a parking lot like this. Wanna guess now?”

Only now does Roman remove his hand from your mouth, but he holds it just as tightly over your chest. You shake your head, “No,” you answer, voice wobbling. Good, Roman thinks. You want to scream, tell him that this isn’t funny. You’re scared and you want to be done with whatever this game has turned into. But you don't have enough of a voice to say anything but no. A quiet, pleading, shaky, and useless no.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Roman begins. “Some bad, bad man will snatch you up, just like this.” He gestures to you with the boxcutter. He smiles, “He’ll drag you somewhere nice and quiet, where nobody can hear you scream. Like this.” He points to the rest of the garage. “He’ll bend you over-” Roman keeps the blade at your side and forces you down, down so that your chest is pressed into the backseat of your car. He puts a knee on your back, trapped like an animal underneath him as he presses his weight into you. Roman bends over and pushes some hair out of your face, twirling it around his slender fingers. You struggle to breathe, both with his weight on your chest and your hyperventilating. He continues, “And he’ll have his way with you. Fuck any hole he wants, shit - maybe he’ll even make a new one. Like I’m gonna do with you, right?”

It’s here where you realize the game is over, ended long ago, and question if it was even ever a game to Roman. Your gut churns in anxiety, you feel like you’re gonna puke. Is Roman gonna fuck any hole of yours he wants, or is he gonna make a new one? But being paralyzed in fear, and all you can do is hope that this’ll all be over soon, or maybe it’s just a dream. You’ll wake up in bed all sweaty and sticky and out of breath, but you’ll shower away the thought of this. 

“You could end up on the news tonight,” Roman taunts. “It’s a scary, scary fuckin’ world out there. You have no idea what some sickos are capable of.”

Roman considers what he wants to do to you. He could leave you here and you’d be sufficiently frightened for Halloween, be your real life slasher movie. But you’re so scared, so pliant, so devoid of all confidence and bite and spirit. Roman wants to continue to exploit that, beat it down.

He tugs down your pants until they’re around your knees, then slides the blade of the boxcutter beneath the waistband of your panties. You cry harder, panicking and choking on your sobs. “Shhh,” Roman shushes you, cutting the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you completely. “Deep breaths, sweetheart, don’t cry. It could be worse, you know? It’s not the real thing. It’s just a game. That’s all it is. We’re just playing a game. I am just trying to show you what’s out there.” 

You thrash again. “Hey,” Roman snaps and smacks your ass hard enough to leave a print. He stands behind you, no hands on your body and impressed that you stay like that. Roman spreads your legs, exposing your cunt to himself. He slides the blade of the boxcutter back down and drags the tool up and down your folds, patiently waiting for you to become wet. “You don’t fight back much,” Roman murmurs. “Why is that? You’re just like, f- oh. Answered my own question. Fight, flight, or freeze. You’re a freezer.”

“I’m scared, Roman,” you whimper. “You’re really scaring me.”

Roman scoffs. “Oh, you’re scared? Imagine how scared I am, knowing some sick fuck could do this to you. Legitimately,” he adds. “It breaks my heart, honestly. You’re lucky I know what’s best for you, sweetheart.” 

Roman puts the boxcutter into his pocket and touches you himself instead, first spitting on his fingertips before cupping your mound. He hums in sick satisfaction at feeling the pool of arousal at your core. “Do you know how fucking soaked you are? A worse man wouldn’t get your pussy wet like this. He’d fuck you dry. Think about how good you have it with me.”  

Roman toys with your pussy, making lewd noises as he rubs it, taps it, cups it. You’re only getting wetter, but you won’t make a sound, instead biting on a seatbelt, tears falling from your eyes squeezed shut. You’re not so subtle, though. Roman notices the subtle rocking of your hips, whether you realize you’re doing it or not. “You’re allowed to moan,” Roman murmurs as he strokes your folds. “I’d really like to hear you.”

He gives you a moment to find your voice. He’d even take a breathy sigh, if not a cry of pleasure. 

Nothing. 

“I said,” Roman begins, brutally pushing just two fingers into your slick entrance, letting you feel how his bony knuckles stretch your pussy. It hurts, oh, Roman knows how it hurts you. “I want to hear you. You know how much I hate repeating myself.”

You let out a soft whimper in response, the noise landing somewhere between pleasure and fear. 

“Good girl,” Roman praises, pulling his fingers out of you almost all of the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, digits all coated in your creamy ribbons of slick. He pushes them back in and curls them repeatedly, brushing against that sensitive place inside you, the added pressure of being on your stomach intensifying it all. In the deepest part of you, you can’t help but to want more, another finger or maybe even his cock. And that makes you cry harder, and fills you with a unique sense of disgust you’ve never felt before. 

Roman curls his fingers rhythmically in your pussy, twisting and spreading them, getting your cunt ready for him to fuck. He didn’t plan on doing you this courtesy, but again - Roman’s got that soft spot for you. That, and the slick, wet noises you make for him, the way your body looks all laid out on your backseat, goosebumps on your bare skin as you push yourself against his hand Roman’s not entirely ready to give this view up yet.

After a time, it’s over. Roman pulls his fingers from you and you whimper, choking on your quiet sobs. Roman wedges one arm beneath your stomach and pulls you up, then shoves your purse under you so that you’re propped up for him nicely. You summon the courage to look over your shoulder at what he’s doing. 

“You’re in good hands,” he promises, meeting your gaze. His eyes are dead but wild like an animal, a little bit of sweat sparkling on his forehead, hair all out of place. Roman snaps and points, “Eyes forward. Now.” 

He unbuckles his belt and takes his cock and balls out of his pants and underwear so that they’re resting over the waistband. Roman rubs his thumb over the sticky tip before squeezing the base of his cock, then pumps himself a little, working his cock to full length. He spreads your cheeks wide, slick hole puckering as you wait to be filled once more. “You’re a mess.” Roman slides his thumb up and down your gash. He gathers your arousal and pulls you up by the neck with one hand, then shoves his thumb into your mouth with the other. “Taste it,” he says. “You fucking want this.” 

You barely have time to register the flavor of your own arousal before Roman’s pushing you back down again and lining up with your entrance. He gives you no warning before pushing inside you unceremoniously. 

“Roman,” you cry, reaching for the seat belt to pull yourself away from him. Roman lets you pull yourself far enough so that his cock pulls out of you almost all of the way, then pulls you back down on it. 

“You can’t run from it,” he coos, beginning a steady pace. “You have to take it. No use fighting.” He draws in and out of you slowly as he holds your hips and rubs circles into your skin. Still crying, Roman soothes you, “Shh,” he hushes, shoving his thumb back into your mouth. “You’re fine. I’m being gentle for you. A bad man wouldn’t fuck you slow like this, would he?”

To Roman’s credit, he is being gentle with you. His thumb feels unfamiliar in your mouth at first, but quickly becomes a comfort to you as you suck it, use it to pacify yourself. You stare at a fallen piece of candy on the floor and focus on the details of the wrapper, see what you can’t read to block out the feeling of Roman inside of you. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.  

“Yeah, not so bad, is it?” Roman pants, hips rocking against yours as he fucks you in two. “You could have it worse. So, so much worse.”

Roman pumps in and out of you at a steadier pace now, so deeply and so intentional so that you feel all of him. His hand on your hip, squeezing you, the weight of his body as he slams into you in a non-rhythm, no fluidity at all.  You’re drooling, slobbering on Roman’s thumb as he fucks you and all you can do is take it, every punishing thrust he delivers onto you. 

For Roman, it’s becoming too much. He can’t keep himself together and release is inevitable. Roman knows time is moving slowly for you but if it weren’t, he’d be a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s falling apart. Figuring there's no point in staving it off any longer, Roman lets himself feel everything he wants to feel. He’s grunting, moaning, growling as he loses himself in your cunt. “Oh fuck, I’m - fuck, fuck you, fucking…bitch. Fuck.” 

Roman’s stomach and balls tense as he quickly approaches his release, groaning loudly as he spills into you, coming so hard he feels dizzy. He pulls out of you to pump his cock through his orgasm, painting those last few ropes of his spend onto your twitching pussy. Roman leans against the driver’s side door of your car as you catch your breath on the backseat, still staring at that piece of candy. It’s over. It’s done. 

When you prop yourself up on your elbows, Roman shoves you back down. “Nope, you stay there. I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “Gonna make you come for me.” 

Another sob escapes your throat and you cry hard. “Please,” you beg. “I’ve had enough, Roman. I just wanna–”

“Go home,” Roman mocks your voice. “I know, I know, I fucking know. But I’m a gentleman, aren’t I? Would you prefer I leave you high and dry? Come on. Use your head.” 

Roman drops to his knees, joints cracking as he gets into position. He spreads your lips and presses a kiss to your center, all swollen and covered in his come. He licks you from clit to asshole, then rounds the tight muscle with his tongue before dragging it back down. He moves his lips and tongue in tandem to bring you pleasure, working you steadily until you’re letting out those little whimpers of ecstasy. 

Roman moves his face as he devours you, his scruff scratching your inner thighs while he licks all of his spend out of your hole. The sweet and heady taste of you and him together is addicting, the warm scent of your most private, sensitive place. Roman will smell you in his facial hair later and get himself off to the thought of this but for now, he focuses on making you come all over his tongue. 

You buck your hips into his face as he eats you, Roman smirks at this. He moves lower so that he’s sucking your clit, causing your legs to shake at the sides of his head as he eats you like the first meal he’s had in days. He holds you firmly in his grip, nails digging into your flesh like he could rip it off your bones while his tongue swirls over your clit. You reach behind yourself out of desperation, searching for a part of him to hold onto when you come. Roman takes your hand in his, giving you a place to land. 

You’re seeing stars. Climax is inevitable, and there’s no point in fighting it off. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You stop swallowing your own moans and let yourself make noise freely, allowing the pleasure to build. It’ll be over soon. 

You sob when you come, all that emotion breaking like a dam. Roman uses his tongue to fuck you through it, push you to the point of discomfort and overstimulation. Roman turns you over in the backseat and pulls you up, up to examine you. Face and eyes all puffy and swollen, soaked with tears. Body shaking uncontrollably. Roman pouts as he wipes your eyes, you poor, blubbering mess. 

He helps you into the driver’s seat of your car, buckles you in and tightens the seat belt. Roman leans over you to reach into that bag of Halloween candy and grabs a pink lemonade flavored Starburst. Roman smiles, “My favorite,” he mumbles, unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth. “Alright. Drive safe. Watch out for Michael Myers, I don’t know. See ya Monday.” Roman shuts your door and pats it twice, waving behind himself as he walks away.

TYSM for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog with kind thoughts or send me an ask or comment ♡

I know that usually I tag my Roman readers, but given how triggering this fic could be to some, I'm not doing that. I'll see you all next time with stepdaddy!roman ♡

[a-ikuoliver]

HAPPY BLOG BIRTHDAY 🎂🎉🎈glad you're here!

This event looks so fun and cute. The menu is everything 🥰

May I have a Blow Job with Bakugou or Dabi?

🖤🐈‍⬛ Kitten

HI KITTEN i am actually so sorry this took so long BUT i hope you enjoy this, i was a liilllllll bit cheeky with yours teehee AND THANK U @ghostbeam & @unearthsaturn FOR HELPING ME U ARE LIFESAVERS birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

"table 14 is a pair of fucking cun—"

"careful, sweetheart, people will start thinking i'm some sorta bad influence if you keep speaking like that." placing a short straw into the cocktail shaker, touya places his finger on the open end, lifting out a sip of the sweet cocktail, offering it to you. sapphire eyes flash when you roll your eyes at him, but silently accept his offer, sticking out your tongue for him to place the opposite end of the straw on, dropping a taste of the drink in your mouth.

"what's got you so riled up?" he waits for you to swallow, scrunching your face at the taste of the pure alcohol burning down your throat.

"jesus, touya, have you even shaken that thing yet?"

there's a flash of silver when he laughs, all sharp canines and surgical steel as he smacks the cocktail shaker lid down with a tattooed palm, "not yet, answer my question."

with a sigh and a cross of your arms, you grumble your reply, "i have a blind date tonight."

"a date? want something for the nerves?" shaking with one large hand, he reaches for the closest liquor to him with the other, shaking the half-empty bottle with a devilish smile.

"careful, people will start thinking you're some sorta bad influence," you repeat, your coy smile mirroring his, a flash of a smile as sweet as honey, sweet enough to fool touya's father into thinking you were never at the scene of the crime (the tattooed, pierced bartender notorious for worming his way out of write-ups, a tongue as silver as the bar through it; you, however, never stayed at the scene of the crime long enough to even be a suspect on enji's radar). touya's always too happy to play into your little innocent act, the slap on the wrist worth the mischievous flash in your eyes every shift, the squeeze of your thighs when he spoke to you in that scratchy, low tone, playfully chastising you from behind the bar.

"c'mon, one shot and i'll let you clock out."

"let me? daddy makes you manager for one night and you become a tyrant," you're speaking to him like a petulant child, tutting at him while grabbing a pair of shot glasses down from the shelf, "mix us something good."

slipping out from behind the bar, you drop the glass over to a woman at the other side of the bar, the same saccharine smile you saved for customers and touya's father, the one making you look just positively angelic, well, as much like an angel as you can in that low-cut shirt.

pouring amaretto into the tall shot glass with one hand, touya reaches for the irish cream with the other, his eyes locking on the whipped cream canister close by. glancing back around to you, he's never been more grateful for a customer to be keeping you from him; with his borrowed time, he slips the whipped cream canister far in the back of the fridge, behind the bottles of beer, behind the chilled wine.

you round the corner of the bar, dragging your feet dramatically, "now i really need a pick me up before the date."

touya smiles again, that mischievous smile that got him out of trouble wherever he went, having women at the bar swooning, sweet-talking his siblings into slicing lemons and limes so he could sneak out the back for a cigarette (the habit he promised to end, in exchange for that pretty, shiny tag saying manager), "need you to run out the back for me first, sweetheart,"

"touya. you can't actually stop me from clocking out just because you're manager, that tag doesn't mean you can coerce your employees."

"you wish," he holds his pinkie up, sea-blue eyes gleaming with faux innocence, "tried to make you a blowjob, you know, get you ready for your date."

touya ignores your snort, the roll of your eyes, instead focusing on your arms crossing over your chest, your squeeze of your tits together, "i ran out of whipped cream, and you know i can't leave the bar alone."

"when have the rules stopped you before, huh?"

"i'm a changed man," tugging at his name tag, his thick, silver rings click against the plastic, the foreign taste of innocence on his tongue.

his pierced bottom lip is stuck out once more, batting infuriatingly long lashes at you until you huff, "you owe me, todoroki."

abandoning your apron along the way, you tug the door to the cooler open, feeling the weight of touya's gaze shift away as a tall blond sauntered to the bar, painted fingertips tapping at his phone screen.

crimson meets cerulean over the dark wood of the bar, touya's hands behind his back, making quick work of the knot of his apron, still watching the blond as he fished for the whipped cream, "hey, i'm lookin' for—"

"she's busy." dropping his apron aside, he tops the shots with a squeeze of the whipped cream, trailing behind you to the cooler with a wink to your date.

[jjngkook7]

Choices (6)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision? ***THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE. I PROMISE I WON'T MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG AGAIN***

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

You rang in the new year with some coworkers. The night was a blur of lights, laughter and music. Despite being a lightweight, you didn’t get as drunk as you thought, in fact, you were barely tipsy. It was hard to have fun when your reality didn’t even feel real. You had all the ingredients to drink your heart out: you met who was supposed to be your soulmate, you find out that mythical creatures are real and your best friend in the whole world has been hiding all of this from you for a year. To add more salt to the wound, Jennie spent Christmas and New Years with the pack. Sad wasn’t quite the right word for how you felt, maybe confused or disoriented? You had been in a haze since the last time you saw everyone trying to figure out if the past weeks were real or not.

After Jungkook dropped you back off at the cabin, Namjoon decided that you should leave for your safety. Apparently having someone as unpredictable as Jungkook free from his chains while his mate was hanging out with other men was not a good idea even after you told Namjoon that Jungkook actually saved your life. Namjoon took you home that night and advised you to keep your distance for a while. He seemed sad when he dropped you off and truth be told, you were kind of sad too. You had a fondness for Namjoon because he was the one that made you feel sane and safe throughout this whole journey. You would miss your friendship with him and everyone else.

Your phone pinged, reeling you out of your thoughts. You thew it towards the edge of your bed when you saw that it was just one of those annoying marketing texts. Your eyes then glided towards the Christmas card on your nightstand as it did almost everyday; it was the one artifact you had proving that everything you went through was real. Everyone from the pack had signed the card, all except for one. You reached for the card and ran your fingertips over the glitter covered snowman on the front page. I wonder how he’s doing. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt. You felt like a fool, an actual idiot for still wondering about Jungkook’s wellbeing when he couldn’t even write his name on a stupid Christmas card for you-he probably laughed when Namjoon asked him to contribute. With one last read through of the card, you placed it under your bed and made never thinking about Jungkook again as your new year’s resolution.

__________________________________

Maybe because there was no one to talk to about your new year’s resolution in full but getting over Jungkook was pretty easy. You hadn’t spoken to anyone in the pack in over a month and the memories of them become less and less clear by the day. Was it Jin that helped you with your injuries or Yoongi? Was it Namjoon that drove you home or did Hoseok tag along also? And did you actually feel sparks when Jungkook touched you or was it just your imagination? Either way, it felt good to feel less crazy. It was only when you and Jennie hung out that everything would hit you like a freight train. Seeing her was bittersweet. You were so happy to spend time with your best friend despite your guys’ schedule but you couldn’t help this building of resentment in your chest at the same time. Anger and guilt gnawed at you so raw that replying to her texts took hours to do. Luckily, both of you were so busy with work that seeing each other was few and far between.

One thing you had a really hard time forgetting was the night you had to leave. After Jungkook asked you to wait, you sat by his side and watched him catch his breath. It was hard seeing someone in so much pain despite the lack of physical wounds. Once Jungkook seemed to have a grip on himself, he told you to sit as far away from him as possible while he sat on the other side of the cabin. You remembered feeling like you were naked under his red gaze, like he could see every single movement you made. Jungkook told you that it wasn’t safe for you to leave yet and that you had to wait for a little bit. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook couldn’t have you leave just yet. A wolf in the midst of his heat finally meeting his mate after being kept away from them was like a ticking time bomb. Jungkook needed to engulf your scent and calm his mind before letting you go back to a cabin full of fully grown men. He was surprised that you complied and that you kept your composure. Sure, he noticed your trembling hands and shortness of breath but you kept calm and collected. Jungkook needed to direct his attention to something else-anything- and so the small talk began. It started off with what you did for work and ended with Jungkook shit talking his pack mates. When Jungkook felt sane enough, he insisted he carry you home to be safe. You remember flinching when a low growl escaped from Jungkook when you hooked your arms around his neck. You felt his body shake as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It took a minute before he was able to hoist you up and get going. You remembered him being gentle and asking if you were all right the whole way back to the cabin. You remembered him letting you down a couple meters in front of the cabin because Namjoon would’ve killed him if he saw Jungkook and you together.

“Are you going to be okay?” you asked.

Jungkook offered you a nod, his bright red eyes doing the soft smile on his face an injustice. Perhaps it was the darkness playing tricks on your eyesight but Jungkook looked bigger. His muscles were more toned, his hair was thicker and his overall aura was just larger. You felt embarrassed drooling over his physique like some school girl despite almost dying a couple hours ago. Namjoon’s voice from inside the cabin redirected your guys’ attention and you suddenly remembered that it was below freezing outside.

“I-I’m going to go inside now,” you reached out your hand to give Jungkook’s arm a reassuring squeeze but retracted remembering how much he ordered you to not touch him, “goodnight.”

To your surprise, Jungkook reached out instead and caressed your face with both his hands. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch pathetically. Jungkook left out an exhale of both relief and frustration. Every ounce of control he had was quickly slipping through his fingers. He was teetering towards the edge of danger with you right now. You opened your eyes to see Jungkook watching you but not like he did before. Just a couple of hours ago, you felt like a prey under his gaze. This time, he was looking at you like how Taehyung looked at Jennie.

“Do me a favor?” he asked, his voice almost hoarse.

You nodded and scrunched your eyebrows. What could you possibly do for him? Jungkook felt his stomach drop knowing what he was going to ask of you. The warmth that happened when you guys touched intensified as Jungkook brought your body closer to his. He knew he only had a couple minutes to relish your touch before his heat and his reality would take over again.

“I need you to forget about this night,” he finally said. Although subtle, he felt your pressure lift from his hands. “I need you to forget about me, about my pack, about everything. Make it like I never even existed, and I’ll do the same. Trust me, it’s for the best.”

As cruel as his words already were, Jungkook then sealed it by pressing his lips against yours. You couldn’t help but gasp which, he happily swallowed. A surge of electricity pulsed through you as he deepened the kiss. The heat from his body immediately making you forget how cold it was. As gentle as he was, you remembered his body began to tremble and the slight sting against your bottom lip when his fangs unsheathed.

And that was all you wanted to remember. Perhaps you were a masochist. Of all the memories you chose to forget, you just couldn’t let go of this particular one; no one ever really completes their new year’s resolution anyways. You knew you would never get an answer but it didn’t matter anymore. Every time Jennie saw you, she'd try to ask about Jungkook but you would either change the subject or give her vague answers. You didn't want to know more than you already did.

“Goodnight, Sooyoung!” you chimed.

“Goodnight,” Sooyoung replied with a sympathetic smile, “you should leave soon.”

“I will!” you lied, “see you tomorrow morning.”

Sooyoung hovered by your desk for a few more seconds before heading towards the elevator. It was common for you to stay after work but not for this long. You waved at Sooyoung until the elevator doors finally closed. When you were certain that there was no one else in the office, you closed the document you were pretending to work on and slumped against your chair. A tired sigh left your mouth as you roughly ran your hands against your face. Just as you were accepting your new reality, the past week and a half had you re-questioning your sanity. Being at home recently felt eerie. You were constantly checking over your shoulder and hesitant to sleep with your bedroom door closed. The nightmares you were having didn’t help either. Night after night, you would see the same things in your dream: rogue wolves chasing you and a Jungkook bleeding out to top it off. You’d jolt awake in the middle of the night and could only fall back asleep after taking melatonin. With the nightmares being a daily occurrence, the melatonin had stopped taking effect and you were left trying to calm your racing heart on your own. To your disdain, the only place you felt safe was at work. Your office was high up on the 25th floor and security here was pretty strict. You concluded that your paranoia was from these nightmares but those moments when you felt like someone was watching you felt too real to blame on lack of sleep. You put your head down against your desk and stared at the time displayed on your computer. It was nearing 7:45 and you promised yourself that you’d leave at 8pm. As the minutes ticked by, you tried to come up with some sort of game plan to combat another inevitable sleepless night.

____________________________________

“Jungkook!” Taehyung shouted as he kicked over a half conscious rogue towards Jungkook.

Jungkook caught it mid air and slammed it down onto the ground before ripping its head off. With that being the last rogue, Jungkook and pack were able to finally catch their breath as they examined the graveyard of torn limbs by their feet.

“Where the fuck are they coming from?” Hoseok panted.

Namjoons eyes wavered as he studied the carcasses on the ground. He had no answer for Hoseok. Rogue wolves attack here and there but never had he seen such great numbers. Their appearance usually coincided with the phases of the moon but recently, their attacks had been random and in hoards. He did notice that they foolishly always went for Jungkook first. As strong as Jungkook was, he was not invincible. Namjoon had also taken note of how haggard and tired his pack was from fighting almost everyday. If they didn't find an answer anytime soon, he feared that he would lose a pack member.

Everyone turned their head towards the trees when they heard a branch snap. In the distance, Jungkook caught a flash of white teeth and familiar pitch black eyes.

“I got it!” Jungkook shouted, before running after the rogue.

He was fucking exhausted. He really hoped that this was the last one because he was losing strength and fast. These recent attacks only fuelled his anger because if he had mated with someone of his species, he would’ve tripled in strength by now.

A yelp emitted from the rogue when Jungkook finally caught up and grabbed its legs. Jungkook swung the rogue against a tree, breaking its ribs in the process. As the creature whimpered against the ground, Jungkook winced when he saw that it was laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook sneered, angry that it was still breathing.

The creature seemed to be mumbling a familiar word over and over again but Jungkook couldn’t figure out what it was saying. Another yelp came out from the rogue as Jungkook kicked its face in. He crouched down and grabbed the creature by its scruff.

“Speak up!” He demanded.

Despite his impressive experience fighting rogues, Jungkook still had a hard time getting used to the disturbing ways these creatures moved and laughed even though they were near death. This rogue had its jaw kicked in and its tongue was hanging out due to the lack of the bottom half of its face. The grip Jungkook had on it tightened when it continued mumbling. Just as he was about to lose his patience trying to unscramble the creatures jargon, Jungkook finally put together what it was mumbling. The rogue seemed to notice the shift in Jungkook’s eyes and laughed even louder.

“I bet she’d taste so good too.” were its last words before Jungkook ripped out its heart.

Jungkook had to get back to Namjoon and let him know what happened.

It was mumbling your name this whole time.

The living room was quiet as the pack tended to their wounds. Jin went around ensuring that everyone was treating their injuries correctly even if it was just a little scratch.

"You need to clean it." Jin sighed, looking at the deep cut on Jungkook's forearm. The cut was his own fault. As Jungkook was ripping the rogues heart out, his arm got caught in the creatures ribs and it carved his arm as he was pulling it out of its chest.

"Just leave it, Jin." Jungkook grumbled, swatting Jin's worried hands away.

Namjoon and Jin exchanged glances, both annoyed and worried about the youngest member but Namjoon didn't have time to adhere to Jungkook's attitude. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt but who knew when the rogues would come back to attack again.

"So," Yoongi said, sucking his teeth in the process, "anyone here knows what they want?"

Jungkook wanted to hear his members theories before jumping the gun because maybe the rogue was toying with Jungkook or maybe it wasn't even saying your name at all. The silence that followed confirmed Jungkook's fear. No matter what Jungkook did, he just couldn't seem to get away from you. All eyes were on Jungkook when he suddenly cursed.

"They're after her." Jungkook said, his fingers pinching his nose bridge.

"Who?" Jimin asked.

"His mate." Taehyung's grin only grew when Jungkook glared at him.

Amidst Jimin's surprise and the symphony of swear words thrown back and forth between the members, Namjoon felt his heart sink as a wave of deja vu hit him. The younger one failed to notice the sadness in the leaders eyes as he berated his pack mates who were teasing him with swear words.

"They're not after her," Namjoon finally spoke, breaking the fight, "Jungkook, they're after you and then her. They know that you'd go after them if they kill her before you mark her. They're after you first to get you out of the picture. As long as she's unmated, they're going to keep coming."

Namjoon felt a lump grow in his throat as realization washed over each member. All eyes slowly turned towards Jungkook who had his fists balled up. The pressure from his fists made his blood seep out from the cut on his forearm. Why did he have to deal with this? How come you were still intertwined with him despite being away for over a month? What did he have to fucking do to get rid of you for good?

"T-this could be different, Namjoon." Jungkook stammered, his mind moving too quick for his mouth to catch up.

"Jungkook listen to me," Namjoon said picking his words carefully as he approached Jungkook, "only you can stop this. We can't fend them off forever."

Jungkook grit his teeth and felt his breath labour. This wasn't fair. He didn't choose this and it seemed like life wasn't planning on giving him too many options either. Jungkook began to replay the conversation he had with Namjoon after he first discovered you. The blood from Jungkook's cut was now staining his pants as he remembered what Namjoon said about how strong humans were. What a fucking joke.

"I am stopping this! Who here in this room has killed more rogues than me? Huh? Who?!" Jungkook bursted.

Jungkook's brown eyes had now turned into a dark red shade.

"Killing them one will send ten. Killing ten will send a hundred. Killing a hundred will send a thousand. You have the responsibility to save her life," Namjoon argued tiredly, "look at your brothers. Look at you! We are not immortal, Jungkook."

Jungkook jumped up from his seat and grabbed his hair. His ears were now ringing. His responsibility?! He hadn't even marked you yet, why were you now his responsibility? He couldn't help but laugh aloud by how absurd everything and everyone was sounding. You had stolen what seemed like everything away from him-his freedom, his bodily functions and now even his morals. You kept taking from him and now you were his responsibility?

"Jungkook please," Jin pleaded, "can you please put your own ego aside and make a good choice for once in your life?"

Jungkook turned towards Jin and snarled, "Remind me who saved your fucking life just 20 minutes ago? If I hadn't ran to you in time, you would've been shredd-"

"Enough!" Namjoon yelled, "Whether you like it or not, her life is in your hand-"

"I will not be responsible for her death like you were for Irene!"

Within a second, Jungkook was slammed against the wall. His right cheek was throbbing and his nose bloodied. He wasn't sure if he had finished his sentence but the right hook from Namjoon answered that question for him. Before Jungkook could orient himself, Namjoon grabbed Jungkook by the neck and trapped him against the wall again.

"You will never utter her name in that context again do you understand?" Namjoon asked through gritted teeth.

Jungkook licked his lower lip, the taste of his own blood filling his mouth as he did.

"Do you understand?!" Namjoon bellowed, shaking Jungkook.

"Y-yes." Jungkook finally answered.

The older one finally let go but not without giving Jungkook one final shove.

"Have a better attitude tomorrow morning or you fend for yourself from now on." Namjoon threatened before disappearing into his study.

Jungkook kept his eyes on the floor as his members stood around staring at him. Jungkook could only count on one hand how many times he felt ashamed in life, he would now have to count on two hands after tonight. His members didn't say a word to him as they retreated back to their rooms one by one. Taehyung lingered for a little bit longer. He wanted to ring Jungkook out but decided to leave him to sulk all alone. Jungkook watched his blood drip from his nose onto his sweater. Would dying by some disgusting creatures be better than surrendering to fate? One thing was for sure, Jungkook would rather die with his brothers than alone. He turned his head towards the end of the hallway where Namjoon's study was. The searing pain from his broken nose was nothing compared to what he just said to Namjoon.

Namjoon had his head buried in his hands as Jungkook's words echoed in his mind. It had been years since Irene's death but it still pained him like it happened yesterday. He knew the younger one was speaking out of anger but if he only knew how much Namjoon did blame himself.

"You know, I couldn't even mourn her after she died. I think I finally did after three months." Namjoon spoke.

Jungkook figured it was probably the smell from all his blood that alerted Namjoon to his presence. He cautiously walked towards Namjoon and sat in front of him.

"Her death was the first out of the two times I ever regretted taking leadership of our pack." Namjoon continued, looking up to meet the younger ones sad gaze.

"And the second?" Jungkook asked, his voice barely audible.

"Tonight." Namjoon replied.

Jungkook let the uncomfortable silence engulf him. He stared at the picture of Irene resting on the bookshelf behind Namjoon and felt remorse like he had never before. Irene was Namjoon's mate. For years, Namjoon refused to mark her not because he didn't want to-because he did-but because he was afraid of bringing Irene in his world. He thought the best way to protect her was to keep her away. Jungkook had never seen someone love another person the way Namjoon loved Irene. He doted on her and gave her anything she ever wanted, everything except for one. Irene had begged and begged Namjoon to make her his official mate but he always rejected her advances. By the time Namjoon decided to turn a new leaf, it was too late. If Namjoon had marked her, he would've been stronger and maybe could've fought off the pack of rogues. That day, Jungkook and the pack were out hunting. When they came back, the cabin they had built had been ripped apart. The image of Namjoon carrying Irene's bloody body in his arms as he wept and called out her name was forever imprinted in Jungkook's brain. Namjoon's physical state was no better and if they hadn't returned when they did, they would've lost their leader too. Irene was one of the strongest people Jungkook knew. She was brave, unwavering and quick witted. Before Jin met Mina, it was Irene nursing everyone back to health after a fight and braving the forest to find medicine. Irene was strong and she was human.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean what I said and I shouldn't have said that," Jungkook apologized tearing his eyes away from Irene, "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Namjoon smiled. Although brash and somewhat arrogant, Jungkook always meant well at the end of the day. He couldn't even count how many brawls Jungkook got into because someone slightly badmouthed a member of the pack.

"Please, your life will probably end in the next few minutes with the amount of blood you're losing. Just let me punch the other side of your face and we can call it even." Namjoon joked.

Jungkook scoffed and wiped his nose. He really was losing a lot of blood.

"Jungkook, I couldn't save Irene but you have a chance here. Learning to love someone...don't you think that's better than losing someone," Namjoon wanted to laugh when he saw Jungkook flinch at the word 'love', "and if you can't do it for her, do it for me. For Irene."

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat, "I-I don't know if I can mark her right away, you have to give me some time."

Namjoon nodded understandingly.

"But I promise," Jungkook sucked in a breath, "I'll protect her with my life."

[beer-anon]

Clingy and relentless

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

Prologue can be read but doesn't have to be. Background: You're the Moon Hashira

NB: I moved account to @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

Tags: drunk sex, mild coercion?, body worship, minor voice kink, porn with plot (?)

Word count: 4k

I promised to tag you long time ago, but I never got around to finishing/posting so here it is @crimsonkenjii-writes

The izakaya was rowdy, the ‘Welcome, new Hashira!’ party was in full swing. You’d been pulled along by an excited Mitsuri, Uzui pushing your smaller figure forward. The dubious seat of honor was between those two. Each egging you on to drink shot after shot. 

Soon enough, it was getting too noisy and too energetic for you, so you’d excused yourself to get a little breather outside. You felt quite flushed, this being perhaps the second time you ever drank in your life. It was actually pretty surprising how well you held on. 

Soft evening breeze cooled down your heated skin. You sighed in relief. You didn’t know how the Hashira managed to stay in their uniform and haori inside the hot pub. You had only ever worn your uniform, and even now, you’d discarded the jacket, leaving you in the white button-up and dark pants. Despite that, you had to cool down. 

The moon was bright in the night sky, and if you hadn’t been in a lit village, you would see the stars too. The whole night was beautiful. 

You wanted to get lost in it, to forget about the guilt weighing you down, and most of all, you wanted to belong. You wanted to be comforted and to feel safe. To take a deep breath into your lungs unobstructed, without the worries pressing down on your chest.

A loud laughter echoed from the inside. You figured your mini pity party should be over. You needed to return before someone came out to drag you in. 

The short time you were gone saw some seating changes. Rengoku sat in your spot next to Uzui now, and the only two free seats were next to Kocho. It would be weird to sit one seat away from her, so you took the one right by her. 

“Ah, [L/n]-san, nice of you to join me,” her smile seemed dim compared to before. Maybe the alcohol had something to do with it. “You should drink some water too. The sake seems extra strong today.” 

You took her advice and the two of you started talking about poisons. You used to be interested in it when you were younger due to your true crime obsession. 

A few minutes passed by when the Water Pillar took up the seat next to you. You glanced at him. His usually unreadable face was a little flushed. How much had he drunk? 

“Ara, ara, Tomioka-san, you’re quite the light-weight, aren’t you?” 

His lips pressed together in a tight line and the corners were a little downturned. It was the biggest reaction he gave the whole day. 

“Uhm, Kocho-san, perhaps you shouldn’t make fun of Tomioka-san,” you intervened. His dark blue eyes shot to you in surprise, but you weren’t looking at him. You were frowning at Kocho. 

And just like that, you became on her hit list for teasing. “Oh my, [L/n]-san, I never took you to be friendless too~”

The hell? That hit home. She didn’t have to say it out loud though.

You pointedly turned away from her and leaned closer to Tomioka. “I heard you created a new breathing form, right? That sounds amazing. Tell me more about it, please.” 

His eyes darted behind you before his full attention was yours. The flush on his cheeks was worse than before. Did he drink another shot while you weren’t looking?

The rest of the night was spent quietly talking at the edge of the party. You switched to first names somewhen along the way. Giyuu was very nice, and it seemed the alcohol loosened his tense mask a lot. Your thighs touched and you sat closer than appropriate perhaps, but his voice was so pleasant and low that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

At the end of the night, it fell on you to escort the woozy Water Hashira home. Since your home was much closer, you decided that he would be better off sleeping at yours - the Moon Estate. 

It wasn’t much of an estate and more of a family house. It used to belong to a Hashira fifty years ago but fell into disrepair since. Ubuyashiki honored your request for something smaller - perhaps he really cared… 

(And you betrayed that trust-

Sit with me.

-like the fraud you were.)

The house was hastily repaired and prepared for you. Unlike the Wind estate or Flame estate with at least five workers each, your home had only one attendant - a quiet woman in her late forties named Sakura. 

Your attendant was already asleep by the time the two of you stumbled through the gates. It was probably a good thing. If she saw the two ‘admirable’ Hashira struggling to support each other while drunk, she’d get a heart attack. To be fair, Giyuu was more of a lightweight than you so he was the one leaning on you really. 

You sat him on the engawa to take off his shoes - no need to make Sakura angry by tracking dust and mud in the house - but he swayed and fell back to lay there instead. 

“Mhmm, your bed i’nt comfy,” he mumbled. “Should’ve gon’ to m’ home. M’ futon is the best.”

You hummed in agreement to entertain his thoughts. After slipping off your shoes as well, you dragged him onto the wooden floor properly and urged him to get up, much to his protest. 

The way he acted and talked was endearing, until you had to wrestle with him to get him in the guest room and undressed out of his uniform. It was official. Tomioka Giyuu, the great Water Hashira, turned into a clingy baby when drunk. It took ten minutes to pry his sleepy death grip on you off so you could go to your own room. 

You really hoped he didn’t remember most of it. You were sure he would be embarrassed.

✿   ✿   ✿

Giyuu remembered everything. Giyuu wasn’t the type to get black out drunk and forget. No, Giyuu was the type who lost his inhibitions, “Liquid Courage” living up to its name for him.

In the morning he laid in the guest futon for a while longer, thinking. The scent of you, despite the smell of izakaya and alcohol, was intoxicating. The warmth of your body was heavenly against his. He wondered how you tasted, how would it feel to kiss you, to devour you.

He wanted more, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. It’s been some time since he had to scratch that itch and he would make sure to make it worth it for you. The night, and morning after, would leave you breathless. He was confident in that - if you wanted him, that is.

And if it was good for you both, maybe more nights and mornings to follow.

The birds screaming outside for attention only made his throbbing headache worse. 

The headache also gave him an idea though.

You didn’t seem to mind taking care of him while he was drunk. Maybe he could test out the waters while under the influence and if you didn’t want it, or him, he could blame it on the alcohol.

Mind made up, it was time to face the outside world.

✿   ✿   ✿

The next time the Hashira went together for a little drinking party was when Rengoku retired. His skirmish with Upper Three left him on a long road to recovery, which he planned to use to train up more young demon slayers in his stead. Everyone, except Muichiro, had a cup of sake in hand and was in a jolly mood. Some disciples of Rengoku were there as well, though they also didn’t have any alcohol. You sat next to Giyuu again, Shinobu on your other side, and the little squad was right next to him. It was strange seeing a demon in the middle of the party, but at least you weren’t in public. This time, you were at the Ubuyashiki estate. 

“That’s really interesting. She just sleeps?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, your promotion to Hashira happened just after the ‘trial’. 

A loud laugh echoed from the other side of the room. Uzui was the source, as Rengoku’s stomach wound prohibited any sort of laughing, which had to be a bit painful. That man was made of sunshine and laughter. At this moment, he had a shit-eating grin on his face though.

“Yeah, she slept for two whole years while I was training under Urokodaki-san,” the boy with the hanafuda earrings, Tanjiro, said fondly while looking at his sister. She was staring at Mitsuri, and occasionally glanced at you, probably because Mitsuri braided your hair for the evening as well. 

“I see. Urokodaki-san also trained Giyuu-san, right?” you turned your attention to him. His face was flushed with alcohol, his eyes bright as they met yours. A high-pitched noise left him, and it took a second to realize it was a whine. “Giyuu-san?”

His lips parted, and closed, before he said, “Yes, he did.” 

Tanjiro giggled. You tilted your head to look at him with a confused frown. “Is something funny?”

The teen immediately tensed up and pressed his lips in a tight smile. “Nothing.” An obvious lie.

A tug on your sleeve distracted you. It was Nezuko, and her wide innocent eyes made you melt. “What is it, Nezuko-chan?”

She made some grumbling noises and gestures but you got the gist of it. She wanted you to braid her hair like Mitsuri’s, and yours. 

“Alright,” you shuffled out of your pillow seat, a difficult motion in your yukata, and patted it. “Sit here. I’ll braid it for you.” You knelt behind her and started to part her hair into two sections. Two braids would be better. Her hair was thick. 

Clothes rustled, and you glanced up to see Tanjiro staring intently at your hands as you worked. Giyuu got pushed out of his seat to let the young man watch but seemed fine with a cup of sake in his hand. 

You felt… content. For once.

Much later, Giyuu leaned heavily against you. You took it as a sign to get up and guide him home. This time, his home was closer, and that’s where he guided you as you supported him.

“[Name], are we friends?”

You looked at him confusedly, “Yeah, I consider you a friend.”

“Good, b’cos Shinobu is always like ‘Aww, Tomioka-san, you have no friends! Tomioka-san~’ and it’s annoyin’,” he pouted, half hanging onto your figure as you trudged through the streets towards his estate. “Now I can tell her I have you, and when she says ‘Oh, but no one likes you Tomioka-saaan’ then I’ll tell her-” he hiccuped “- I’ll tell her you like me and that will show her!” 

The flush on your face wasn’t to be blamed entirely on alcohol. At least it was dark enough that he couldn’t see. 

He saw.

You said nothing as you dragged him through the gates. Giyuu continued his rambling as you forced him to take off his shoes before walking in. 

You sat him down on the engawa and he lied down, much like last time you were helping his drunk ass into bed. 

“Wai’, are we at your place again? Why ain’t we at mine?” he whined.

You snort in amusement. Giyuu truly was a baby drunk. You frowned. Your stupid sandal wasn’t coming off. Did you tie it too tightly? 

“Hey… don’t ignore me,” he breathed against your ear sensually. 

A shiver ran down your spine. When had he moved?! “Giyuu, the hell?” you flinched back with a deep blush. “You scared me.”

His pout was criminally adorable. “You were ignoring me.” 

“I’m just getting my shoes off so we can go in. This stupid tie won’t budge though.” You went back to fighting your sandal.

Warmth enveloped you from all sides when he embraced you from behind. You tensed up but let him do as he wanted. His nimble fingers reached for the tie on your shoe and tugged it free in just a second.

He would never admit he re-tied it tight while you were distracted braiding Nezuko’s hair. His knots were the best, he knew.

Giyuu stayed glued to you for a few moments longer, breathing against your neck.

“Giyuu?” Goosebumps rose all along your skin. “Are you awake?”

He huffed. “Yeah.” The pressure eased and cold evening air stole all the body heat provided to you.

The both of you got to your feet, Giyuu more unsteady than you. He wavered and you immediately supported him. “Well, which way?” 

The room he led you to smelled like him. There was a big futon already prepared on the tatami mats.

“Alright, this is your stop, buddy. Let me set you down. Which way to the guest room?” 

Giyuu looked at you like you were stupid. “You’re staying here, with me.”

“I’m what?” You blinked. “You know what? I don’t really care at this point. I’m too tired to search for it by myself and I don’t wanna wake up your attendants.” 

You left him to steady himself and took off your outer yukata. The white juban was staying on though, despite being tied a bit too tight. You couldn’t risk anything with how clingy Giyuu was. With that, you crawled into his futon, leaving enough space for him to comfortably rest in.

It was silent for a little while.

You heard the rustling of fabric before it fell to the ground. He only wore a yukata before, so if some cloth fell, he had to be naked right now.

“My eyes might be closed, but, please, put your clothes back on…” Your face felt heated and you tried not to think how he looked naked. Your throat felt dry.

Two uneven strides, then: “I want your attention, [Name]...” He ignored your command.

You kept your eyes closed as you felt the covers move. “You have my attention.”

“Open your eyes.” 

“No.” 

A finger poked your shoulder. “[Name]...”

“No.” 

You turned so your back faced him. You thought that was the end of it, but then you felt his body slide against yours, the heat scorching against the thin fabric covering you. 

“What- on- Earth- are you doing right now?” You ground out. You were getting a little annoyed. You were horny, frustrated and a little under the influence of the consumed sake and you were not having it with Giyuu.

“‘m huggin’ you, whaddya think?” he mumbled. The arm he draped over you pulled you closer. You squirmed a little. His hand slid up and cupped your breast.

“Alright, that’s it! You have my attention now,” you huffed and pulled at the hand to stop touching your chest. It didn’t budge, it just squeezed a little. You wiggled and fidgeted, trying to get loose when your butt brushed against something that was not his leg. You froze.

Giyuu’s breath hitched. “Baby…”

His grip lost its strength so you turned around to face him. Soft moonlight was enough to see his flushed face.

“I could kiss you right now…”

“Giyuu… You’re drunk,” you pressed your lips in a tight line. You yourself felt much more sober, yet intoxicated at the same time.

If the walk home helped or not was anyone’s guess, but he rolled over to pin you to the futon. The blanket slid down his back to rest at his hips. You practically stopped breathing and were forcing your eyes to remain on his own. You couldn’t glance down right now.

“I could kiss you right now,” he repeated. “...maybe add a little tongue…” Your face had to be as flushed as his. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Giyuu…” Protests died in your throat a miserable death when he leaned closer. His breath smelled like sake.

“Give me you body… your love… your lips.” The words entranced you. The pace and anticipation were killing you. You never knew Giyuu knew how to be soft, how to express himself in such a way. “You’re so beautiful.” The kiss was barely there, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You sighed against his lips as if in relief, unsaid tension released, and all thoughts left your head. 

He rolled you both so you were under him, shifting so only one of his arms supported his weight off of you. The hard-on you discovered a few moments ago pressed against your stomach. His free hand pulled a few stray hair strands behind your ear and lingered there as he stared at you.

Every second stretched out into infinity. 

Hesitantly, your hands trailed up his bare sides. A violent shiver was your reward. “Baby…” he breathed out harshly.

You remained silent and traced gentle and winding lines across his chest with your nails.

Giyuu let out a strangled moan. “...your touch…” He didn’t elaborate but swooped down for another kiss, this one more insistent and deeper. A scorching heat built up inside of you. “Intoxicating. You’re like- a drug… my drug…” 

The uncharacteristic possessiveness drove you nearly feral with need. “Giyuu, please…”

Your plea was rewarded with a shaky breath from him. He slowly trailed his way down to your neck with his lips, feather-light and teasing. He kissed your pulse point.

“Plea-Ah!” 

He nibbled on the vulnerable flesh while humming in pleasure. The low vibrations of his voice made goosebumps spread all over you.

“More… Stop teasing,” you whined. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were dizzy from alcohol or his touch. Your hands gripped at the futon in an effort to ground you.

Giyuu must have felt merciful, as his sweet worship ran down your body in slow motions. His hands joined in the silent conquest, broken only by his and your shaky breaths. He untied your juban easily - How did he do that? You were sure the knot was too tight - and pulled it open as he went lower and lower. 

Before you knew it, your panties were gone as well and you were as bare as him. He took a deep Breath and dove in with the hunger of a starving man. 

His hands reached up to hold your thighs apart, giving him access to your most sensitive spot. His tongue expertly flicked and teased at your clit. He continued his gorging, building up a rhythm that drove you closer and closer to the edge. 

Just as you were about to cum, he moved his tongue down to lap at your entrance. You whined his name at the ruined orgasm, frustrated. Giyuu didn’t care and continued his assault of your pussy lips, loud slurps and licks echoing in his room.

He added a thumb into the mix to stimulate your clit again. A few light circular motions and you were at the brink again. Just a little more- just a second-

-and you were lost. The intensity of the pleasure pulsing from your pussy was all you could focus on as you trembled from head to toe. Your chest heaved with deep breaths. He continued to lick you softly, clearly still lost in the taste.

“Hmm, delicious…” He licked his lips, before he realized what he just said. “Oh no, I’m starting to sound like Rengoku right now.” His horrified expression, drunken flush on his cheeks, face half wet with your pussy juices, everything about this situation was hilarious. You started to laugh. “Babyyy,” he whined quietly. 

“Sorry,” you giggled breathlessly. 

Giyuu crawled up your body with a pout, holding eye contact, his hips slotting between your thighs easily. “As you should be.” His cock slid over your lower lips easily, wetly humping against you and letting you feel just how massive he was. “Can I…?” 

Instead of answering, you reached down to position his tip at your entrance. He got the message and started to press in, releasing a long shaky groan. His eyes became shiny, too shiny, while he stared into your soul.

You clenched your teeth to stop any noise from spilling past your lips. He filled you in all the right places, the stretch burning slightly. You hadn’t truly realized his size until he fully slid in, pressing against your cervix harshly. Your mouth opened in a silent scream at that, a full body twitch overtaking you, still maintaining eye contact as tears gathered at your lash line.

“Don’t… don’t look… babe…” he exhaled harshly in pleasure, eyes tightly clenched shut and tears finally falling down his face. Your pussy was heavenly warm and snug around his cock. “Don’t look at me.”

You’d always been a little rebellious. Your eyes remained open, short nails digging into his biceps and you urged him on with a low grind of your hips against his. The hitch in his breath gave away his desperation.

The first stroke was drawn-out, Giyuu struggling to breathe properly at the feeling. However it wasn’t long until the pace became a harmonic gooey pat-pat-pat of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Giyuu…” you lost your composure and stopped holding back your noises, sleeping attendants be damned. Every time he bottomed out, he brushed against your clit harshly and his tip smooched the entrance to your womb. It sent shocks through your body, centering in your stomach like a tight knot.

He groaned breathlessly as your walls tightened around him gradually. “So- fucking- perfect- Ah!” The pulsing around his cock was almost mind-numbing. Tears still continued to fall from his eyes slowly, the pleasure overwhelming his drunken body. The drops fell onto your own chest, neck and face with his motions, like the first dew in spring.

Giyuu opened his eyes to watch your face as you got lost in ecstasy. He suddenly gripped your legs and nearly folded you in half. The new position allowed him to thrust against something that made you cry out at first contact. Your hands tried to find purchase in the futon again.

“Y’ like tha’? Like me makin’ a mess of you-?”

Moans were all your throat could produce as an answer.

The heat shared between the two of you built and built, like a simmering pot left unattended, ready to burst at any second.

His pace grew sloppy and uneven, yet it offered no mercy on your puffy pussy, bullying any semblance of sanity right out of your mind. Giyuu seemed to be losing his strength. He leaned down, his body dwarfing yours, and supported his weight on his forearms above your shoulders. He panted and whined right into your ear, the sounds sending electric shocks of pleasure right to the still-tightening knot in your belly.

“Ngh- fuck- ‘m close-!” he grunted, rolling his hips, more grinding than thrusting now. The stimulation on your nub in this position was unreal.

You thought you would explode, but instead went out with a whimper. Eyes unseeing, ears ringing, thighs quivering, you lost yourself in the kaleidoscope of pleasure rolling through your body.

Giyuu suddenly slammed into you with the power of a tsunami, sending another shock through your body. You could scarcely breathe - was it just another wave or was it another orgasm entirely? 

Twice more did he strike just as forcefully before he released a shaky moan, hilting as far as he could. His breath stuttered. Hot spurts of cum started flooding your pussy in the rhythm of his erratic heart. It dripped around his length and out of your ruined hole. He continued rutting into you, as if to fuck his semen deeper into you.

He had ruined you, ruined you for any other man. 

You keened like a wounded animal when he finally pulled out slowly, your gummy walls scraped raw from his cock. Like a broken dam, his cum leaked out of your pulsing pussy. 

He rolled over with a relieved sigh. You could finally unwind from the near-impossible fold he had you in. There was a slight ache in the small of your back, but a good night sleep could fix that… probably. If not, you could always demand a massage.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Giyuu demanded in a soft whisper after he caught his breath, pulling you close. 

Your face was smushed against his collarbone but you figured he would let up once he fell asleep.

He kissed the crown of your head tenderly. “Never leavin’ me. Not allowed.”

You could hardly protest, as tired as you were from your activities. 

“Please… date me…” he mumbled. Right after, soft breathing indicated he passed out. 

You smiled tiredly. “What an impossible man… Not even awake to hear my answer…”

✿   ✿   ✿

Will be cross-posted on AO3 soon

I'm also writing a bonus scene / part 2 but idk when it'll be done

Next up: Obanai

[steddieas-shegoes]

maybe forever

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'on the road again'

rated t | 689 words | no cw | tags: bisexual gareth, good friend eddie munson, future fic, super famous corroded coffin

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Gareth stared out the window of the bus, watching as trees passed in a blur as the sun sunk low in the sky. They'd been on the road for four hours and had roughly 81 days to go.

They'd all agreed no girlfriends or boyfriends on the first leg of the tour. This was just for them, for their hard work, for their passion.

Gareth had agreed. He hadn't really thought much about it. He figured they'd be so busy writing music, playing shows, and sleeping it all off, they wouldn't even have time to miss them. But after the initial celebration with drinks on the bus, they all went to their bunks, or in Gareth's case, the table by the long window.

He was lonely.

He was surrounded by his closest friends, and doing his favorite thing in the world, and got to live a life he only dreamed of.

But he was lonely.

"Gare? Probably should get some rest. We've gotta do souncheck as soon as we get there in a few hours," Eddie said to him from next to the bunk beds.

"Yeah. In a minute," he sighed.

But Eddie wasn't the type to leave him alone if he sensed something was wrong. Gareth wasn't the type to be able to hide when something was wrong.

"What's goin' on?" Eddie asked as he sat down next to him, looking out the window too.

"Just miss him," Gareth admitted.

Eddie was the only one who really knew what was going on with him and Sam. Everyone had their suspicions and Frankie even made a joke about him being sad without his boyfriend, but he hadn't officially told any of them except Eddie that that's what he was.

It was still pretty new, but they'd gone head first into something more serious than Gareth had ever expected of what was supposed to be a hookup at a bar.

"Yeah. I miss Steve," Eddie agreed. He put his arm around Gareth and tugged him into his side. "We didn't have to worry about boyfriends on the last tour. Kinda think we made a mistake not having them here."

"Maybe. Might just be something we have to get used to," Gareth leaned his head against Eddie's shoulder. "Do you think i'll have time to call Sam when we get there?"

"I could distract the guys for a few minutes. As long as you promise to let me have the phone after the show to call Steve."

"Deal."

"You really like him, huh?" Eddie nudged Gareth's cheek with his thumb.

"Yeah, he's pretty great."

"Think you might love him?"

Gareth paused. He'd never had a serious relationship. A couple short-term girlfriends in high school, one guy who he thought was cool because he was five years older, but was actually just an asshole who liked fucking younger guys. One guy who was never an official boyfriend, but they met up any time he was in New York and always had fun.

Sam was different.

Sam was maybe forever for him.

It wasn't as scary a thought as it may have been back before Corroded Coffin got famous enough to headline their own world tour.

"Yeah, I think so."

Eddie squeezed him in his arms before letting go. "Then you should tell the guys. Might make it easier if they know. I know it did when I first realized how I felt about Steve."

"They know I'm into both, though."

"But they don't know that you've found someone who means a lot to you, not really. That's the part they need. It's easier when you can talk about him. I promise," Eddie stood up. "I'm taking a nap. You should too."

"In a minute."

Gareth watched as they passed a sign for some small town that they'd probably never see again.

He thought about being on the road, how much fun he always had with the guys, how having Sam here later on would feel.

He smiled to himself as he stood up.

He was ready for this tour, but he was even more ready to show Sam what tour was like someday.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

bring a friend who loves to play, we'll eat all the candy canes (Obey Me!)

A/N: A day late, but here's Belphie's story!!! This one is so cute and I loved writing it sm, it's so fun. Actually had a few others in the story this time, but it's still mainly Belphie, I promise <3

Pairing(s): Belphie x MC

Prompt(s): 7. Belphegor

Summary: A Christmas Eve walk turned epic snowball fight.

Tag(s): Super fluff, a snowball (or two) to the face, and my Belphie-really-really-loves-Christmas-time headcanon :D

Word Count: 1,547

Song Inspiration: Candy Cane Lane by Sia (A very Belphie type of song imo)

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

~*~

Snow flurries dance on their way to the ground, a blanket of white already covering everything within sight. It’s the middle of a long winter’s night in the capital of the Devildom and everything is quiet. Any shops or businesses open at this time of night are sleepy and slow. On the road leading away from the House of Lamentation, all that can be heard is the crunch of fresh snow and ice alongside the quiet giggles and whispers of a human and a demon on their way to the center of town.

Spinning in a circle with their arms out on either side of themself, facing the sky and trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue, the two are full of amusement as they accidentally run into each other in their lack of attention to how close they are to each other.

The Avatar of Sloth takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around the other and rest his chin on their shoulders, trying to walk backwards while tugging them along, grinning all the while.

MC tries to stay rooted in place, eyes intensely fixated on a very specific snowflake. “Wait, wait, I’m gonna get this one.” And they stick their tongue out and wait.

The demon holding onto them waits as well, staying perfectly still. Only when the snowflake is about to land right on their tongue does he jostle them, trying to tug them along again, effectively causing them to startle and the snowflake to land somewhere else. Belphie is laughing before MC even turns to face him, a dramatic look of offense on their face.

“How dare you, you- you- you demon!” They say, hand above their heart. Despite their words, the look of mirth in their eyes is plenty clear.

Belphie very poorly schools his expression, forcing himself not to smile in any way. “It’s your own fault, human. You shouldn’t be messing around at a time like this, anyways. You could slip and fall and die.” He says in a very familiarly stern and deep tone of voice.

MC tilts their head to the side slightly, a grin growing on their face. “Was that Lucifer?”

“Duh.” Belphie confirms, his voice back to normal. “Pretty good, right?”

A snort leaves the human as they shake their head at him. “It is actually, the best one I’ve heard besides Levi’s.”

He nods in agreement. “Yeah. It seems all that cosplaying has helped him learn a lot about doing voice impressions. At least it’s good for something.” He holds his gloved hand out to MC.

“Hey, be nice to your brother. I think Levi’s cosplays are really cool. Plus, dressing up is always so fun, I love when he lets me join him.” They take his hand and lock their fingers together happily.

Belphie shrugs. “I’m not allowed to be nice to my brothers. That’s the rule.” The two of them continue walking down the road side by side. “Well, except for Beel. Twin’s are an exception. …And Satan. We’re allies.”

MC holds back a giggle but cracks a grin. “Whatever you say, babe.”

Belphie nudges them playfully in return. “Do you think anyone at Purgatory Hall is still awake?”

Thinking about it, MC shrugs. “Probably. There’s like a 99% chance of Solomon being awake, a 76% chance of Simeon being awake and about a 50% chance for the other two.”

“Perfect.” Belphie smirks mischievously as he catches his partner’s eye. “Do you think they’d be up for a snowball fight?”

They match his look immediately. “They better be.”

The two of them find themselves walking through town a few minutes later, making a beeline straight for Purgatory Hall right by all the many shops and such. They approach the front lawn and both of them share a look before leaning down to gather snowballs. They even take the time to make a small pile of them, stocking up on their ammo ahead of time. Then, with one last one for each to hold in their hand, they’re ready.

“You go knock, then run back over here.” Belphie gestures along with his words.

Nodding, MC walks up to the door and knocks firmly three times, ensuring it’ll be heard, before running back to where Belphie waits by the corner of the building, but far enough out that they both have a direct eyeline of the doorway.

They don’t have to wait long. The door is opened by Simeon less than a minute after the knock, a curious look on his face. Before Simeon can even process that no one’s there, MC throws the first snowball, the packed snow landing right in the middle of the man’s face. His face is covered in snow and he’s frozen in place.

MC puts a hand over their mouth in surprise, not intending to actually hit him in the face, while Belphie whistles quietly, both of them holding back laughter. But as Solomon appears behind Simeon, Belphie throws his own snowball, hitting Solomon square in the face as well, though if the exclamation he lets out afterwards is anything to go by, it was intended.

“Oh?” Simeon is already stepping out of the house, barefoot and without a coat, though seemingly unbothered as he gathers his own snowball. Solomon is quick on the uptake and follows suit as the pranksters dive for their own ammo, a war quickly beginning between the four.

The front door to PurgatoryHall is still wide open, light from the front hall spilling out and lighting up the yard as packed snow flies back and forth. The loud laughter and squeals is probably what draws out the other two members of the household, both of them in pajamas but appearing to be wide awake, looking out at the commotion in surprise.

“Luke! Raphael! C’mon!”

“We’re losing here! We mustn’t let the intruders win!” The last line was said jokingly as Simeon and Solomon wave the other two over.

They didn’t need to be told twice. Suddenly, it was four against two, but MC and Belphie didn’t even think of backing down. Even quicker now, they were tossing out snowballs left and right, walls of snow being built as barriers on either side. They don’t know how long passed, but eventually, the war was over, the “intruders” successfully thwarted, a truce offered out and accepted.

As MC helped Belphie up from his spot on the ground, a snow angel left in his place, Luke waved them towards the door. “C’mon! Simeon’s gonna make hot chocolate and the cookies I was making should be cooled off by now!” Belphie and MC turned to each other with happy smiles before following the angel inside.

Inside of the large house, the fire is going, soft christmas music is playing in the background, and everyone is gathering in the living room. Solomon and Raphael are on one couch together and Belphie and MC sit on the one across from them. Luke comes in with a tray full of cookies, which he sets in the middle of the coffee table, Simeon not far behind him, juggling all six mugs of hot cocoa, all topped with whipped cream. They get passed out and Simeon sits on the other side of MC, Luke choosing to sit on the floor with his back against MC’s legs.

MC turns to Belphie and watches him nibble on a cookie, his mug held close to his chest in his other hand. He’s beaming with happiness, his eyes filled with excitement. It’s so rare the sleep demon is ever wide awake for this amount of time, he’d usually be passed out by now. But according to his brothers, Christmas is Belphegor’s favorite holiday. He’s much more awake around Christmas time than any other time of year. And it’s certainly noticeable. He looks the perfect picture of energy as he chats excitedly with all the others about tomorrow’s celebration plans. It makes them smile happily with clear affection and adoration for the demon in their eyes.

“Why don’t you guys stay here until morning? We can all head to the House of Lamentation together. I’m sure Lucifer wouldn’t mind if we saved everyone a trip to here and the castle.” Simeon points out.

“That’s true, if we all go to their place first thing with all of our presents, it would make things a bit easier. We’d even have some time to relax before getting ready for the Christmas dinner with Diavolo and Barbatos.” Solomon says.

“Oh! Do you think Lucifer would be okay with me using their kitchen to bake all the treats I wanna take to the castle?” Luke asks excitedly.

“I’d like to spend Christmas morning with all of the brothers.” Raphael says quietly, a smile on his face at the thought.

“That’s all fine with me. I don’t mind staying here for the rest of the night. What do you think, MC?” Belphie turns to look at them, a hopeful smile on his face.

MC leans forward to give him a quick kiss before replying. “That sounds fun. Let's do it.”

Belphie grins and kisses them again. “I love Christmas. Especially with you here.” He says softly.

“Good. Cause I don’t have any plans to go anywhere else.” They tell him.

“You better not.”

~*~

A/N: I think this one is my favorite one so far, tbh. I still wanna get Barbatos' out tonight, but I gotta let my laptop charge, so it'll def be out after midnight my time (it's currently 10:05pm)!!!

~*~

Taglist:

@dutifullyuniversallykingdom

@om-adventcalendar

@the-ancient-fae

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

[bella-rose29]

Idiot ~ Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Requested by anon:

Hii I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader, with childhood bestfriends to rivals to lovers with the miscommunication trope, but also a happy ending with both of them being together. So the plot could be like, they were childhood best friends but then when Anthony's family died he later wanted to start the business, but she thought that he was out of his mind because she was scared about him being in danger, but he thought she just didn't think he can handle it so they got into an argument and she left. After that, they started hating each, later she joined Fittes as an agent, so he was even more angry. So they became rivals in the ghost hunting business. Then they got put on a mission later, and idk she gets injured and his like "who did this to you," but they're still enemies, even though the whole time there is sexual tension between them. This request is super chaotic, so just make your own plot with these elements, I guess. I'm not good at describing plots, I will be happy with whatever you write, but please let them have a happy ending and be together. Also, could you try to make this as long as you can because there aren't as many Lockwood fics as there should be.

I might have changed some bits a lil bit and probably spent way too long talking about their childhood, but hopefully this lives up to your expectations anon! (Please let me know if it doesn't though)

Word count: 9.5k exactly (holy shit this is insane i had way too much fun with this)

Warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, descriptions of injury, mentions and descriptions of Lockwood's family dying/being dead, major spoilers for the books (and the show), some stuff probably doesn't make sense (like at all), i might also have misremembered and made up some things but we'll go with it, Lockwood is actually kind of a dick for some of this oops, he gets better i promise, hospitals, mentions of being on morphine (for the pain), references to Lockwood being depressed, they're idiots in love.

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list!

It was nearly 3am and Y/n L/n had had enough.

She was exhausted, weary, worn out, and pretty much any other synonym for the word 'tired', and she just wanted to go to bed, but Anthony Lockwood had other ideas.

"Give it here, come on!"

Y/n groaned, then half-heartedly chucked the bits of paper at her best friend from where she was lying on the floor of his living room. Jessica laughed, despite also losing to the 5 year old boy at Monopoly, and shook her head at his greedy smile as he counted the money. How he had ever managed to get the two of them to agree to play with him, Y/n didn't know, especially since she'd not really been paying attention when the rules were explained. But then she saw how happy he was at the idea of playing with the two girls, and Y/n knew she could never make her best friend sad.

She did really want to go to bed though.

Jessica Lockwood appeared to notice Y/n's droopy eyes, and quietly spoke to her brother, stifling a laugh at his pout when she told him they should probably stop.

"But we aren't done yet!"

"I know, Anthony, but you've definitely got the most money, I'm sure of it. You're going to win no matter what, so I think we should let Y/n/n go to sleep, yeah?"

"Oh..." he'd noticed his friend's demeanour now, and felt immediately bad for making her stay awake. "Alright then. Y/n/n?"

"Mmm?"

"You ready to go to bed? 'Cause Jess says I won, so I reckon we can go up now."

"Mkay," she murmured, too sleepy to answer in proper words. Going up to bed was a haze, and she only really woke up when she stubbed her toe at the bottom of the stairs (Anthony hadn't told her that was there, despite saying he'd guide her). She was sure she brushed her teeth, Jessica would have checked, and they were all already in their pyjamas, but the only other thing she remembered before dropping off completely was seeing Anthony's face on the pillow next to her, already snoring lightly.

~~~

Y/n couldn't remember most of Anthony's sixth birthday now, what with all the memories that came in between, but she did remember his joy at receiving her present.

He'd spent the majority of the morning since Y/n and her family went next door gloating about how he was finally six, and now he was old enough to do so much more than Y/n (who was still five). She'd rolled her eyes, laughing when he did victory dances all around the house, and laughing even harder when he fell over while doing one of the previously mentioned dances.

They'd run away and hidden in his room in the attic after collecting plates of cake, and Y/n made sure to pick up her carefully wrapped present on the way up. He'd noticed immediately that she was carrying it, of course, he was far too observant to miss it, and had demanded that she let him open it right then and there. Initially she'd refused, feeling shy and worried that he wouldn't like it, but he'd given her one of his secret smiles, one of the ones reserved specifically for her, and said "Please?" so sweetly she caved.

He placed the cake to the side, then spent a good minute unwrapping the gift, being oh so gentle with the paper in fear of breaking it. When he saw the item inside, his smile burst out, bright and blinding, and Y/n felt her own smile form on her face, pleased at his reaction.

"Do you like it?" Nerves were still coursing through her, but they left her body when he raised his head and met her eyes.

"I love it, Y/n/n," he whispered, lifting the picture frame all the way out of the wrapping. She'd convinced her parents to print the photo off, and then spent hours making a frame that would fit it perfectly, complete with lolly sticks and stickers, trying to make the best gift for the best friend she'd ever had.

The photo was the two of them the previous Christmas, bundled up in ridiculous festive jumpers and sat in front of the Lockwood family tree in the hallway, presents surrounding them. Their parents had insisted on a photo before they ruined the area with rubbish everywhere, and the two of them could barely contain their excitement. There was a slight blur to them, a testament to their energy, but their smiles were so wide and they were hugging so tightly Y/n knew it was the perfect photo to give him.

"Where did you even get this? I thought your mum hid the camera?"

Y/n giggled at his comically wide eyes. "I just asked her, silly. I did have to do some chores but I didn't mind, it was worth it."

She barely had time to move her plate of cake out of the way (she hadn't eaten any in the last few minutes, far too focused on Anthony's reaction) when he surged forward, bringing his arms around her in a crushing hug.

"Thank you," he said, although it was muffled since his head was pressed into her shoulder.

"Anything for you, Ant, anytime."

They stayed there for a while, just hugging on his bed and revelling in each others' presence, both knowing that Y/n had meant her words.

~~~

When Anthony had to fight his parents' ghosts, Y/n had cried.

He was crying too, since he'd seen them die less than a day ago and now he had to keep them dead, but seeing her best friend in so much pain had made Y/n cry harder.

Anthony was trying to push back the tears so that he could see, so that he could fight, and Y/n hated that he was doing this on his own.

She had been kept in her room by her parents, the adults being too scared for their daughter's safety to let her go and help Anthony, and she was watching him through her bedroom window. Despite the tears streaming down her face and the sobs racking her body, she could tell he was crying (or trying not to) because of the way he was hunched into himself, as if by making himself smaller he could make everything stop. His body was shaking too, heaving with silent cries as he fought off the two ghosts in front of him. Why they were in his back garden, Y/n wasn't sure, since they'd died on the road in an explosion a few minutes drive away, but she was only six, and didn't understand much anyway.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, perched on the window seat with her gaze fixed on the boy next door, but she knew that it was far past her bedtime when he finally stopped them, and she woke up with her face stuck to the window, tear stains on her cheeks.

Realising it was light again, Y/n hurried to get dressed, tearing down the stairs and into the house next to them, knocking rapidly on the front door. It swung open a few moments later, revealing Jessica, who smiled sadly at the small girl in front of her and waved Y/n in.

"He's in his room," she said quietly, voice raw from crying.

Y/n nearly tripped countless times climbing the many stairs, and by the time she'd made it to the attic she was out of breath. Pushing his door open, and going up the last few steps (seriously, why were there so many steps?) she froze at the top when she saw him curled up under his bedsheets, shaking with near-silent cries.

"Anthony?"

She heard him sniff, the sound gross and snotty, and then he turned his body around to face her, and Y/n felt her heart break in her chest.

He clearly hadn't slept all night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep, and he was struggling to keep back the fresh tears that threatened to break through.

"Oh, Ant."

Y/n rushed to the bed, climbing to sit next to him and pulling his head into her lap, brushing her fingers through his hair.

They sat like that for hours, long after Jessica brought up some toast for the two of them, and even when Y/n's back hurt from the headboard and her legs were numb from having his weight on them, she didn't stop stroking his hair, soothing him silently.

When he finally sat up, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose (Y/n made a mental note to put her clothes in the wash as soon as she got back home), she pulled him back in for a hug, both of them sat up this time.

"Thank you, Y/n/n."

She remembered the last time they'd done this, hugged on his bed while he thanked her, but this time it wasn't happy.

"Anything, Ant. Anytime."

~~~

"Ant, don't be stupid!" Y/n giggled, watching him climb the tree.

"I'm gonna get you an apple," he shouted, smiling down at her. "You're gonna love it, I promise!"

He'd just been reaching out for one, bright red and shining, when they'd heard a crash from inside his house, followed by a scream. They'd frozen where they stood, Y/n on the ground and Anthony in the tree, and then suddenly they snapped into action, scrambling to get inside and find Jessica.

They tore up the stairs (somehow Anthony had caught up to her, despite having been up the tree), and he pushed open her bedroom door just in time to see the ghost.

"NO!"

He moved before Y/n did, grabbing a spare rapier from the dresser and moving to fight, hoping to save his sister.

Y/n moved, but backwards, taking a step back out onto the landing, her hand on her mouth.

"Anthony."

He had pushed the ghost back, and was picking up a net.

"Anthony."

He had thrown the net over the broken pot, wrapping it up securely.

"Anthony," she said, eyes fixed on the bed.

"What?" His eyes were wide with terror as he turned to look at her, evidently scared that she was in danger, but when he followed her finger that pointed to the bed, he choked.

"No," he croaked hoarsely, and Y/n felt terrible for making him realise. "Jessica? Jessica please wake up. Jessica. Jessica, this isn't funny. Jessica, please. Jessica."

He kept on like that, repeating her name and asking her to wake up, but Y/n knew that she wouldn't. She moved again then, over to where he stood, rapier hanging limply in his hand. It had only been three years ago he'd lost his parents, why did he have to lose someone else that he loved? Pulling him into her, she let him sob into her shoulder (difficult, given his growth spurt).

Y/n knew at that point that she wouldn't ever leave him.

~~~

"You what?!"

"I'm starting training," Anthony replied, not looking up from where he stood at the kitchen counter, buttering toast.

"But... but why?"

"Because," he shrugged. When he didn't expand on it, Y/n sighed.

She was worried about him.

He'd been vacant, hollow, since Jessica's death, and although he tried to smile and make everybody think that he was doing just fine, Y/n knew her best friend better than that. She saw the bags under his eyes, the lack of joy and mischief that used to reside in his gaze.

"Because what, Anthony?"

"Look, I'll be fine. This guy called Nigel is gonna train me, and then I'll be an agent, and I can keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe, idiot," Y/n huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"I know, I just want to be extra sure that you'll be okay. And everyone else."

"We're nine, Anthony. You went to a funeral a week ago and already you're talking to agents?"

"Yes. I'd like it if you came with me, obviously, but if you don't that's fine too. I'm doing this anyway, with or without you."

That hurt.

They always did everything together, so why was he talking like this?

"Fine. I'll talk to my parents. You need protecting too, dummy."

She'd broached the subject that night at dinner, expecting them to say no.

"Are you sure you want to do this, darling?"

"Yep," she said, stabbing some peas with her fork.

Her parents shared a look.

"Alright. Just promise us you'll be careful, and you'll pay attention in your training, yeah?"

Surprise made Y/n jolt, sending peas skidding across the table. "I can go?"

"Yes, but you have to promise us-"

"I promise!" Her parents chuckled, shaking their heads in a way that reminded Y/n of Monopoly and a late night.

~~~

Training was horrible.

Everybody was mean to her, just because she couldn't run as fast as the others, or move as quickly with a rapier.

"Look at her, she's gonna die within minutes!"

"Nah, she'll never make it that long. On the plus side, if she's in our group we only have to run faster than her!"

"Won't be too difficult!"

Y/n scowled at the whispers, making her way over to Anthony. She huffed, plopping down on the bench next to him and glaring at the girls.

"What's up with you?"

"They're being mean about me. Saying I'll be useless in the field."

"Aw, Y/n/n, they're stupid if they think that. You'll be amazing, I'm sure." He nudged her shoulder with his, smile working its way onto his face. Y/n couldn't help but smile back; his was too infectious. "You'll prove them wrong, I'm sure of it."

After that day, Y/n worked ten times as hard on the practical elements, a new intensity coming into her training with the other agents. She sparred against Anthony when they got home, blunt rapiers clashing in her back garden while her parents cooked dinner.

Within a month, she could beat pretty much everyone she trained with, the only exception being Anthony. He'd shown a skill with the rapier from the very beginning, and his long body made him graceful in a fight. She'd nearly beaten him a few times, but then he'd had a fire light in his eyes and he'd push her back, focus deadly as he forgot everything but the fight. She grew scared in those moments, and had stopped trying to beat him, afraid that he'd forget who she was and hurt her.

~~~

When they were fourteen, Y/n broke her promise and walked out on Anthony Lockwood.

He'd started a business, his own goddamn agency, in his own goddamn house, and he'd wanted her to work with him. She barely recognised the boy that stood in front of her the day he asked her; he was a shell of the best friend she used to have. He was vacant still, and she just wanted Anthony Lockwood back.

"Please? It'll be so much better if we're working together! You can come and live here, and your parents are still next door so you're not too far away, and we'll go on cases together, and it'll be great!"

Y/n had shaken her head, fear creeping up her spine. He'd grown a death wish recently, and although he vehemently denied it, she'd seen how he didn't seem to care about his personal safety when on cases led by the trainers.

"Anthony, you can't do this, please. You're gonna get hurt," she pleaded, hoping he'd come to his senses. If he wasn't so broken, she'd say yes, gladly, and work with him as they had always planned they would. But he was broken, and this job could destroy him.

"What, do you think I can't do it?" His brow furrowed in confusion, and Y/n could practically feel his guard start to go up.

He'd never done that with her before.

"It's not that, I just don't want you getting hurt. You're my best friend, Ant, and I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't lose me," he'd raised his voice slightly, pushing off of the kitchen counter as he got defensive. "You've seen me," he swept an arm out, referencing the training missions. "I'm the best agent they've got, and we both know it. I won't get hurt. I'm too good for that."

Y/n scoffed. "Do you hear yourself, Anthony? Do you realise how arrogant you sound? Because that's gonna get you killed." She'd raised her voice too, to match his, and she jabbed a finger into his chest.

"Arrogant? You think I'm arrogant? I thought we were 'best friends'?"

"Why did you say it like that?"

"What?"

"'Best friends', like we're not. You did little finger quotes like it was sarcastic."

"You always do this! Make something out of nothing!"

"What?" Her eyes narrowed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You tell me! You're the one saying I'm gonna get killed when I'm the most skilled agent we know! Why can't you just trust me?!"

"Because you will, Anthony! You will get yourself killed, and I can't let that happen! You can't start a company, just join Fittes, or Rotwell!"

"Fittes? Rotwell? I'd rather eat my own foot than join one of them! You just think I'm not capable of any of this, don't you? You think, that because my family is dead, I can't do this, because I should be grieving instead. Well I have grieved, and if you don't want to stay, then you can leave. I don't want you here if you're gonna keep being like this. Come back when you've sorted your attitude out." He turned his back, busying himself with making a cup of tea.

Y/n stared at him, mouth open in shock and tears threatening to fall.

"Prick. You're the one that needs to sort your attitude, not me."

She left then, grabbing her bag from the chair and scribbling a 'fuck you, Lockwood' onto the paper cloth on the table.

~~~

A year later, Y/n was working a job, and was actually somewhat happy.

She'd joined Fittes after her argument with Lockwood (she stubbornly refused to call him 'Anthony' until he'd apologised to her), and had been put in Quill Kipps' team. He was nice enough, arrogant and conceited at times, but Y/n put that down to his failing Senses and the stress of being team leader, since he was alright the rest of the time. He was more like an overworked teacher on a school trip with a bunch of primary school kids, and the bags under his eyes really added to the image.

It was a minor threat, Type One ghost that was giving an old lady the creeps, but they'd been waylaid on their way back to Fittes by a group of ghosts in the park, and two figures struggling to fight them all. There had to have been around twenty to thirty ghosts (all Type Ones, but they were angry), and when Kipps wondered aloud who would be so daft as to take them on, Y/n sighed, knowing exactly who would do it.

The Fittes team had jumped in, using the remainder of their flares and energy to help, and Y/n found the source, securing it quickly and efficiently. Mass graves were never fun, and this one wasn't much better. Spreading the silver net over the area, Y/n stood, careful not to jostle it.

"We don't need Fittes coming in, thanks, we were perfectly fine on our own."

"Sure," Kipps snorted. "Because being completely surrounded by ghosts and nearly dying is being perfectly fine. Give it a rest, Tony. Go back to your house and leave the agent work to the professionals, yeah?" Y/n rolled her eyes as she got closer, but she couldn't help but agree with what her leader was saying.

Anthony Lockwood looked terrible.

She had no idea who the other boy was (although he did look vaguely familiar), but he at least didn't look like he was on death's door.

"Y/n?"

She raised her eyebrows (she still couldn't figure out how to raise just the one, despite practicing for hours).

"Lockwood."

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but she knew him too well to miss it. Nobody else noticed.

"Why are you... Are you working for Fittes?"

"Yes." He wasn't getting more out of her, not until he apologised. Kipps was looking between the two of them, as was the other boy with Lockwood, both clearly confused.

"How do you know each other?" Kipps asked.

"We were-"

"We were neighbours. Didn't talk much outside of that." Her tone was bland, and her face nonchalant, and she turned to leave. "Has somebody called DEPRAC?" Ned nodded, waving the radio in his hand.

"Said they'd be two minutes. Should be here in a minute."

"Perfect. Can we get that tea now, Kipps?"

He hesitated, obviously still unsure about what was going on. "Sure. We'll drop the other Source off first though, yeah?"

They left, and although Y/n could feel Lockwood's stare on her back, she didn't turn around.

~~~

It was a month later that Y/n saw Lockwood again, and it was almost the same situation. Her team had been patrolling the streets, making sure the area was secure, when they'd seen magnesium flares going off. They'd rushed in, and Y/n had scoffed when she caught sight of the long black coat and flashy moves.

"Outta the way, Tony!"

The Fittes team had made quick work of the Type Two, bagging the Source and claiming the reward. Y/n felt a little bad about the money, but at the same time Lockwood needed to learn how to get control over the situations he put himself in if he wanted to keep the reward. He seemed to take on the cases that were ridiculously out of his reach, and if Y/n was speaking to him she'd guess that he was trying to prove a point.

She and her team were warming up in a cafe afterwards, one of the late night ones that opened specifically for agents, when Lockwood and his coworker walked in. The pair breezed past, and when the other boy had smiled apologetically at them and given Y/n a little wave, she remembered who he was.

"George! Wait, it is George, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," he scratched the back of his head, and adjusted his glasses on his face. "I wasn't sure you remembered me, to be honest."

"I knew I'd seen you before, it just took me a bit to remember where from. Also it was dark the last two times we saw each other, so that won't have helped. Anyway, how are you?"

They chatted for a while, George shifting the piles of paper he had in his arms.

"Do you need to put those down?" she asked after he readjusted them for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I should probably get over to Lockwood, actually. I'm pretty sure he's burning holes in my jumper right now."

"Oh, he's glaring at me, don't worry."

"Why would he be glaring at you? You're lovely," he questioned, confused. "I thought you were just neighbours anyway?"

"Yeah. We had an argument a while back. He was a knob."

"Oh. Yeah, I can see that he would be." George nodded in understanding. "I should definitely go and join him though. We've got all this to get through," he held up the papers slightly, and Y/n smiled up at him.

"Well good luck, George. See you soon?"

"Probably the next time you save us. Lockwood has a death wish apparently. Doesn't let me research for long enough," he complained, shaking his head as he turned and left. Y/n had been right. Lockwood was being reckless, and he'd get himself, and quite possibly George, killed.

She and her team were just finishing up, with Kipps paying the bill and her other teammates standing with him at the till, when Lockwood came over. Y/n had stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air, and when she heard the door she instinctively turned to look, expecting her coworkers.

"Oh. It's you."

"C'mon. Don't be like that, Y/n."

She snorted. "You know you're proving me right, right? You keep throwing yourself into situations you can't win in, and you're going to get yourself killed."

"I'm not proving you right," he started, frown forming on his face. He'd had another growth spurt, she realised. He'd stepped closer to her, out of the way of the cafe door so that other agents could enter, and now he towered over her.

"Yes, you are. Stop being a dick, Lockwood, and realise that you're going to get yourself seriously hurt someday."

"Since when was I Lockwood to you?"

"You know when."

"True. Lovely message, by the way. Great parting gift."

"Yeah, well you were being an asshole, and it felt fitting to write 'fuck you'."

He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'Yeah, I bet you'd like to'," he repeated, louder this time, meeting her eyes with a smug smile on his face.

"Grow up, Lockwood."

"That's not a denial."

Y/n turned to him, looking him dead in the eyes. "Yes it is." She tried to sound threatening, but that was difficult when he was nearly a whole head taller than her. She was saved by her team coming out of the cafe, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders against the chill.

"You alright, Y/n?" Kipps asked, concern for his colleague appearing on his face.

"Yeah, fine. Let's go."

~~~

Those meetings kept happening, and it was beginning to frustrate Y/n.

Lockwood had started being more flirty, as if he actually enjoyed getting on her nerves, and the past year had been exhausting.

It was the same every time.

Y/n's Fittes team would be patrolling, or coming back from a job, or heading to a job, when they'd see two figures, or their flares, or hear their shouts, fighting an incessant number of ghosts. The group would jump in, joining the fight, and somehow Y/n and Lockwood ended up next to each other. She was certain he engineered it that way specifically so that he could irritate her with his comments, and that just irritated her even more. What he said was always the same thing, too.

"Do you come here often?"

"We have to stop meeting like this."

"What are you doing after this?"

When she told him to shut up and focus on the job, he'd ignore her, or answer with something just as bad.

"Make me."

"I'll stop talking if you join me later."

Both of those were said with smug smirks and winks, and Y/n went home to her crappy flat close to the Fittes building (she couldn't stand being near him after the argument) every night wondering what the hell had happened to her old best friend.

The last case had been particularly annoying.

The same routine had occurred, but this time there were three of them.

Y/n was surprised to see the girl, but as soon as she saw her fighting she decided that she liked her. She was feisty, and from what Y/n could tell, didn't take any of Lockwood's shit. She looked like the sort of person Y/n would be friends with, or at least get along with, like with George (they had limited contact outside of saving them).

But then the Fittes team had helped, and Lockwood hadn't come near Y/n.

She was glad in some ways, it meant she didn't have his incessant flirting in her ear, and she was glad, until she looked to see where he'd gone.

He was side by side with the girl, and they fought together like they'd been doing it their whole lives. For some reason it annoyed Y/n, despite the fact she'd sworn to block out any feelings for Lockwood other than annoyance and hate, and she grumbled the rest of the night. Kipps picked up on it, and questioned her.

"What's up with you? Surely you'd be happy that Tony left you alone?"

"Yeah, I am. It's something else, don't worry."

"Alright... well, don't let it get to you too much, yeah? We need you focusing on missions, you're too good at what you do."

Y/n nodded, flushing slightly at the compliment.

They made it to the cafe just as Lockwood and Co did, and Y/n bristled at seeing the three of them laughing together.

Well, at seeing Lockwood and the girl laughing together.

George she was just happy to see, he was always nice to her back when he worked at Fittes, and when they passed each other in the Archives or finished jobs together, and she didn't think she could ever be mad at him.

Lockwood and his new colleague, however, she could justify.

"Oh, hi!"

Ugh, she was nice. That made disliking her even harder.

"Hi," Y/n forced a smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"I'm Lucy," she said, coming closer to Y/n as the two of them trailed behind the others.

"Y/n. How long you been working with him then?"

"Uh, about a week? Do you... do you not like Lockwood or something?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You just... said 'him' like you wanted to rip his head off."

"Oh. Well, that's one thing I wanna do to him."

Apparently Lockwood tuned in to their conversation at that specific moment, because he turned around, smirk already in place.

"What are the other things you want to do to me, Y/n? I'd love to find out later. My place or yours?"

Y/n scoffed, pushing past him to join her teammates. Behind her she heard a thump, followed by a small "Ow!" Assuming that Lucy had hit him, Y/n smiled, and started liking the girl again. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she originally thought.

~~~

It had been nearly two years since Y/n had first met Lucy, and her second impression of the girl had stuck.

They'd saved Lockwood and Co far too many times since the girls had first met, but Y/n didn't mind. She enjoyed seeing Lucy and George (and Lockwood, but she wouldn't tell anyone that), and if getting involved and having to suffer Lockwood's chatter meant that the three of them lived another day, Y/n would gladly take that sacrifice.

Y/n and Lucy met up regularly in the down time that they both shared, either at Y/n's flat, or in a cafe or shop somewhere. Sometimes George came along, having snuck out under the pretence that he was researching at the Archives, and the three of them had lengthy chats about pretty much anything. Lockwood came up in conversation a lot, of course, given he was something they all had in common, but Y/n always steered away from the subject.

Tonight, however, she wasn't getting let off the hook.

"Why do you always do that?" Lucy asked, stuffing a chip in her mouth. They were sat on the floor of Y/n's tiny kitchen, take away boxes of food in front of them.

"Do what?"

"Whenever Lockwood gets mentioned you start talking about other things. Why do you do that?"

Y/n shrugged, eating some of her own food. "'Cause he's a knob and I don't want to think about him more than I have to?"

"He's always flirting with you though, and you always flirt back."

"Thanks for the observation, George. And I do not flirt back!"

"Oh you totally do, like earlier, right, he was saying something about how your uniform really compliments your complexion or something, and you look really good in it, and you said, wait, George, you take over, I need a drink," Lucy spoke.

"You said 'thanks, I look better without it', and winked at him. I had to physically push him out of the way of a ghost because he was stood staring at you like an idiot."

"He always looks like an idiot," Y/n mumbled, cheeks going red.

"George is right, he's actually gonna end up hurting himself if you two don't get on with it soon."

"He's at risk of death anyway! And get on with what?"

"Snogging," Lucy said, at the same time George said "Making out."

Y/n stared at her friends, hand pausing halfway to her mouth, chip in between her fingers. "What?!"

"Seriously, there's so much tension I could slice it with my rapier. Just stick your tongue in his mouth already."

"Lucy!"

The girl just shrugged. "We are seventeen, you know that right? I know people who've shagged at seventeen. I'm honestly surprised the two of you haven't yet, which is why you need to get on with it."

"That would be... no, that's too weird."

"Why is it weird? He's your old neighbour, you had an argument about something petty probably, and now he's flirting with you 'cause he's realised how hot you are. If he doesn't kiss you I will, just so I can say I kissed the hottest girl I know."

"Aw, thanks Luce. I'd rather kiss you than him, to be honest."

"The bar is low. He's punching."

"Definitely. You alright George?"

"I don't understand girls," he replied, having been quiet the last few minutes while Y/n and Lucy went back and forth. "What did you argue about, anyway? Because you've held a grudge against him for at least three years now and I have never known why."

"Was it petty?"

"No, Lucy, it wasn't petty." Y/n sighed, taking a break from eating. "He... We were fourteen, just finished all of our training, and he told me he wanted to start his agency."

"That is kinda petty though."

"Lemme finish. I don't know how much he's told you about his family," she paused, looking at the other two.

"Not much, but we know they're all dead."

"Yeah, and he showed us Jessica's room."

Y/n raised her eyebrows. He'd kept that room stubbornly locked since she'd died.

"Right. Well, a week after her funeral, he told me he wanted to start training to be an agent. We were nine, and he was definitely not okay at all. Anyway, we did it, and then like I said, when we'd finished, he told me he wanted to start an agency in his house and he wanted me to join him. He was still not himself, and I was just worried that he was going to end up killing himself. Hell, he'd almost hurt me a few times in training. We were the top two in our academy, so we ended up fighting together a lot. But he'd get... intense. Focused. But not in a good way. It was like... he saw anyone he was up against as a ghost, and he wanted revenge for what had happened with his family. We argued about the agency. I told him something about how if he did it he'd just end up hurt, because I knew him and I knew that he wouldn't think he had anything to live for. He took that to mean that I thought he was incapable, and he told me to leave and that I could come back when I'd fixed my attitude."

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Y/n staring at her take away box in her lap, George and Lucy absorbing everything she'd told them.

"Fuck," Lucy finally said, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah."

"Wait, so you weren't just neighbours?" George asked. "You must have been closer than that if you knew him so well."

"Best friends. We're the same age, and our parents had lived next to each other since before we were born. Just made sense really that we were friends."

"Does he know? That you were worried about him?" Lucy questioned.

"Probably not. Should have guessed it though, given how close we were. I mean, he's seen me ugly cry at funerals, and they weren't even my relatives, they were his."

"Maybe you should talk to him? I know, I know, he needs to apologise for being a knob, but you were fourteen. I mean, it's three years on and he's still the mental age of a five year old, but talking might help?"

"Anyway, Lockwood's hopeless when it comes to women. Completely clueless," George added.

"How would you know?" Y/n frowned, not liking the way her heart clenched at the idea of Lockwood talking to other girls.

"Because he hasn't done anything about you, and you're probably the most amazing girl that's ever going to get a chance with in his life. Maybe he's intimidated by you."

"He's not getting a chance. Not like that. Don't look at me like that, Luce. If I don't kiss him that means I'm kissing you."

"Oh, alright then. I'm fine if you don't wanna make up with him," she replied, cheeky smile appearing on her face.

They left the topic alone after that, moving on to other subjects, but Y/n couldn't help but think about the boy with a death wish.

~~~

It was only a week after her evening with George and Lucy that Y/n had to help save Lockwood again (it was so ridiculous she was almost entirely convinced he came unprepared just so that he could see her).

"Miss me, darling?"

"In your dreams, Lockwood," she shouted back at him, dodging a Type Two. She gritted her teeth as she hit the ground, jagged rocks digging in and pain shooting through her side. Rolling, she stood again, panicking for a moment when she realised she'd dropped her rapier.

"Here you go, darling," Lockwood said, appearing out of nowhere with her rapier. "Do I get a reward for returning your belongings?"

"Yeah, you do, actually," she replied, getting close enough to him she could feel his breath on her face. "You get to not be stabbed by me. Duck." He did, almost immediately, and Y/n threw a flare at the Spectre behind him. Lockwood popped back up, somehow still smiling despite the utter carnage surrounding them.

"If I got hurt, would you visit me in hospital?"

"Yeah, to finish you off."

He laughed, and Y/n turned away so he couldn't see the blush rising on her face at the sound. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of something that definitely wasn't dead rummaging around where she had thought the Source for the cluster was.

Relic men.

"Lockwood?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Relic men, over by the Source. What are we gonna do about them?" She hadn't taken her eyes off of the two figures that were crouched by the oak tree, afraid that if she moved her gaze they would run off. When Lockwood only cursed, she panicked, wondering what was wrong. Normally by now he would have charged in to the fight, all guns blazing. Why wasn't he doing that now? Had he suddenly realised that she was right? Because this was really terrible timing if he had. "Lockwood?" Her voice had gone up in pitch, fear making it quiver. Relic men were nasty, and a lot harder to deal with than ghosts. Ghosts she'd been trained for.

"We're surrounded by them. They're blocking all reasonable exits."

"Shit. Okay. What about unreasonable exits?"

"What?"

"You said they're blocking all reasonable exits, yeah? So what about the unreasonable ones? Could we get out anywhere else?"

"Uh... there's a gap in the fence over there," he pointed. "But that would mean letting them have the Source. It's too powerful, we can't let that happen."

"Ugh, okay, hang on. Go and tell the others, just in case they haven't noticed."

"What about you?"

"I'm keeping an eye on these two, make sure they don't get away. I'll try and get closer, but there's a lot of Type Ones in the way."

"You'll be okay?"

"If I die you can take me on a date."

"That's... what? That doesn't make sense."

"Take it or leave it, Lockwood. Get a move on."

He left, casting a last look over his shoulder at her before disappearing into the night to find the others. Y/n felt unease creep up her spine, and she gripped her rapier tighter, her other hand hovering over the remaining flares in her belt. The relic men were still digging, and a few of the ghosts had noticed the disturbance now, moving over. Y/n frowned, a thought occurring to her.

Relic men waited until the ghosts were gone.

So what were they doing here, now? Why endanger themselves? Before she could think on it further, she felt the air shift behind her and ducked to the left just as a fist appeared in the space her head was in mere seconds ago.

Shit.

She pulled herself back up, readjusting her grip on the rapier and taking a quick glance over to the tree. Seeing the two relic men still there, Y/n whipped back around, ducking again just in time to miss the next punch. The man pulled out a knife, the edges jagged, and a wicked grin came over his face. Y/n gulped, then parried his attacks. He was relentless, swinging and then swinging again immediately after, never letting up on her. It was all she could do to keep her arm upright and strong enough to block him, and the ache in her side from hitting the ground earlier was turning into a throb that wracked her body with pain. The relic man noticed the weakness, and his grin grew wider, broken teeth showing. He became even more frantic in his attacks, and Y/n felt herself stumbling backwards over the grass. The floor was uneven, and she tripped, crashing onto her back. She got her rapier up in time to hold off the relic man's knife that had carved a path through the air to cut through her head, but he was stronger than her, and his blade was edging closer to her face. He was only using the one hand, and Y/n realised a split-second too late that his other hand was reaching for his belt, where a second knife was strapped. Her eyes widened in recognition briefly right before he plunged the blade into her side, and she let out a scream.

The pain was all-consuming, and it took everything in her to keep her rapier up, the shockwaves coursing through her body. She took a hazy note of the fact that he hadn't pulled it out yet, which was good, but her vision was blurry, which was not so good. At least if the knife was still inside her body then she wasn't losing too much blood. Her grip weakened, and she saw the other knife jolt towards her face before it disappeared, the man being flung backwards into the bushes in a flash of light. Lucy appeared, hair wild and filled with leaves, her own rapier in hand. She crouched down, pressing a hand to Y/n's cheek and checking if she was okay.

"Threw a flare at him, should knock him out for a while. LOCKWOOD! HURRY UP! Sorry, I told him to get his ass over here just now, but he's stuck with some ghosts, and they're-"

"Lucy?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was hopeful, glad that her friend was conscious enough to speak.

"Please stop talking."

"Y/N!"

She winced at the shout, and Lucy moved over to make room for Lockwood. Y/n rolled her eyes at the cuts on his face, and the gash on his arm. "You can't help yourself, can you? Gotta throw yourself into danger headfirst."

"Shut up. Can you sit?"

"Did you just tell me to shut up? Anthony Lockwood, do not tell me to shut up when I could be dying."

"Y/n, please, don't do this. Can you sit?" His voice was insistent, desperation seeping into his expression, and his glare was convincing enough that she tried to sit up. The pain in her side was too much though, and she ended up half-slumped against a tree. "Who did this? Y/n? Who did this to you?" His tone was lower now, with something dangerous in the background.

"Lucy hit him with a flare. He's over there somewhere." She waved in the general direction she'd seen him disappear in. "Anthony, where are you going?" He froze, looking down at her from where he now stood. The full moon was behind him, and he looked otherworldly in the silver light.

"Lucy will stay with you, okay? Just hang on. I'll be back in a minute. Don't die on me now, Y/n/n." He softened a little at the last part, trying to convey a million emotions in a few words.

"Wait, I'm staying here?"

"Yes, Lucy." And with that he left, stalking in the direction Y/n had pointed him in.

"You alright?"

"Brilliant, thanks Luce," Y/n replied, and then she promptly passed out.

~~~

A soft beeping woke Y/n up, and the harsh light above her and the sterile smell in the air immediately told her that she was in a hospital.

That didn't explain the warmth in her left hand though.

Blinking as she adjusted to the bright light, she turned her head to the left, and had she not been drugged up on painkillers she would have reacted much more quickly and jerked away.

But she was drugged up on painkillers, so instead she just stared at the boy asleep in the chair next to her bed.

Anthony looked peaceful when he slept, he always had, but he didn't look particularly comfortable right now. His right hand was holding her left, and he'd managed to pull one of his long legs up onto the chair, bracing his forehead on his knee while his left arm dangled off the side of the armrest. Yeah, he couldn't be comfortable like that. She squeezed his hand lightly, but he didn't wake. A nurse came in, and upon seeing Y/n awake, smiled.

"Your boyfriend must love you a lot. He hasn't left your side since you came in. Rode in the ambulance with you too, which he wasn't meant to. Paramedics said he was very insistent and needed treating anyway, so they let him. He's been really worried about you." Y/n was on too much morphine to fully comprehend what was going on, and her brain had stopped working properly at the word 'boyfriend' anyway.

"Oh," was all she said, and the nurse smiled, going through her checkups. Y/n drifted in and out of consciousness for half an hour before Anthony woke up.

He blinked a few times, just as she had, stretching like a cat, long limbs going everywhere but never removing his hand from hers. His grip only tightened, and when he saw her watching him with a small smile on her face, he returned it.

"You're awake."

"No, I'm dead," she deadpanned. "Obviously I'm awake, idiot. If I died I'd have to go on a date with you."

He frowned. "Would that really be so bad?"

"Yeah. You should be going on a date with me, not the other way around."

He laughed lightly, more an amused exhale than anything else. "You are so drugged up right now."

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p'. His thumb was stroking across her hand, and Y/n wondered if he knew he was doing it.

~~~

"Ugh, do I have to live at yours? What's wrong with my house?"

"You live on the fifth floor and there aren't any lifts. You were also specifically told not to climb too many stairs."

"Yeah, but your house has almost as many stairs as my apartment building, so what's the difference?"

"The difference is that I can look after you here, because I live here. Don't touch that, it's still healing, and- ow!"

"Oh shit, sorry. It looks healed."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one that got stabbed, alright? Here, let me get the door."

Anthony sprung up the last step, fishing the keys out of his coat pocket and unlocking the door. Y/n followed behind, wincing when the movement up the stairs put pressure on her wound. She'd been in hospital for two weeks once she'd woken up, and had been told to stay at home until she was properly healed. Anthony had taken on the role of carer immediately, and the nurses had all mentioned (multiple times) what a good and loving boyfriend he was, looking after Y/n the way he was, despite his own injuries.

Neither of them had denied it.

Once inside 35 Portland Row, Y/n took a look around, and was surprised to see that it had barely changed in the last three years.

"Right. Tea? I think George has just put the kettle on."

"Anthony?"

"Yeah?" His smile was tentative, clearly not wanting to scare her off when she'd just started calling him by his first name again.

"Please don't make me sleep on the sofa. Because that looks like the same one your parents got when we were four and I remember how uncomfortable that one is." She pointed to the sofa in question, and he shook his head.

"No, you're not sleeping there. What sort of a boyfriend would I be if I let that happen?" he joked, and Y/n felt her heart flutter at the idea. "You can sleep in my bed, alright? It's only one flight of stairs, which will hurt, but it'll be good for you to get the exercise in, make sure you're healing properly."

Y/n frowned. "Where are you sleeping if I'm in your bed?" She half expected him to say that he'd be right next to her, but he smiled softly again.

"Sofa. No, don't look at me like that, I've slept in worse places."

"What worse places? Ant, you've got to look after yourself! God, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

She started making her way up the stairs, huffing from the effort. She was tired, despite having spent just over two weeks lying down, and it was already late in the evening.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Just... let's just get you to bed, okay?"

"You're sleeping in a bed, and that's that."

"You are so stubborn sometimes."

"So are you!" She made it to the half landing, and hobbled over to the door she remembered being Anthony's. "You still in here?" At his nod, she pushed the door open, going over to the bed and sitting on the edge. "Seriously, this bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa, Ant. It's super uncomfortable."

"Won't that be... I don't know. Won't that be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because we haven't... we're not... you don't like me and I'm scared you're going to murder me in my sleep."

"You... what? Uh... okay. I'm not gonna murder you in your sleep, Ant. One, that's completely dishonourable. I would do it while you were awake so that you could look into the eyes of your killer. Two, I do like you, I just also need you to apologise. For what you said."

"You want me to apologise? I was just defending myself, because I was hurt by what you said. You made out like I wasn't capable and that stung, because you'd always been my biggest supporter."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Anthony. I wasn't saying that at all. I was worried about you because you weren't yourself after Jess died. You were... I don't know. You weren't you, and it freaked me out when you said you were starting an agency, because it's a crazy thing to do! You sort of became a shell of my best friend, and disappeared, and I was worried that you would die and I would lose you because you wouldn't care about living anymore. I know that you are perfectly capable of fighting, and you're one of the best swordsmen I've ever met, but you're an emotional wreck, Ant."

He was quiet for a bit, staring into space as he thought about her words. Y/n sighed, lying down on the covers and closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She felt the bed dip next to her as he sat down. "I'm sorry. I said some horrible things to you and you had every right to leave. I don't have an excuse for what I said, and if you want to leave tomorrow morning then I'll help you move into your flat again. But I just... I'm sorry, Y/n/n."

Y/n sighed again. "I don't want to go. I've missed it here," she admitted. "And yeah, you were an idiot and an arse, but you're my idiot, alright? You have a lot of grovelling to do as well." He nodded rapidly, and a secret smile spread on his face, one of the ones he showed her and nobody else.

"Your idiot?"

"Yes, Anthony. My idiot." They smiled at each other, soft and gentle. A thought occurred to Y/n, and her brow furrowed. "What happened after I passed out in the park? All I remember is you looking murderous and asking who stabbed me."

"Oh, right." Anthony looked away, blush creeping up his neck.

"What happened?"

"He's not coming after you again, if that helps. Or anyone. DEPRAC completely purified the area."

Y/n gaped at him. "You killed him?"

Anthony shrugged. "He hurt you, badly, and you could have been killed. If Lucy had been a second later..." He trailed off, eyes clouding over slightly.

"Ant?" Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through her in protest.

"Hmm?" he turned to look at her, and his eyes went wide when she slid an arm up around his neck.

"Lucy and George think that we need to make out."

"They, uh... they what?"

"They think that we need to make out."

He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering between hers, trying to figure out what was going on. When he spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper.

"What do you think?"

"I think we should listen to them. They're normally right about things. What about you?"

"Uh... okay?"

Y/n hesitated, suddenly unsure.

"Ant, do you want to? Because if you don't that's totally fine, I just assumed that you felt the same as me, and we were both fine with the hospital thinking that we're dating, and I genuinely really like you, and I probably love you-" she was cut off by his lips on hers, slightly chapped but still soft.

"I do want to, I'm just hopeless around girls, especially the ones I've loved since I was about ten." He'd barely pulled away, his nose brushing the side of hers, breath fanning over her lips.

"George was right about that too, then," she murmured, kissing him again. "He said you were hopeless with women."

"Thank god. I thought he knew I've been in love with you for years."

"Oh you're in love now, are you?"

"Started about seven years ago, but sure." He pushed forward again, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he kissed her softly and slowly.

"Is that why you flirted with me?"

Anthony flushed, nodding slightly. "In my defence I am completely hopeless with pretty girls, and I wanted to know if there was any chance of you sharing my feelings."

Y/n kissed him again, short and sweet. "I love you, Anthony Lockwood. Just look after yourself more, yeah?"

"I love you too," he replied. Y/n prodded him in the side.

"And?"

"And I'll look after myself more," he said, smiling. "Anything for you, anytime."

They kissed again, for longer this time, exploring each other and being mindful of their injuries, and Y/n thought she could happily spend eternity wrapped up in his arms

"You're definitely not sleeping on the sofa," she said when they paused for air a while later.

"If you say so," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. She smacked a hand against his chest, face going red at his implication.

"Not like that, idiot."

"Your idiot," he smiled, pure joy on his face as he pecked her lips.

"My idiot," she replied, mirroring his grin.

[vodika-vibes]

oh may I request the "if you had the guts, [name], you would have kissed me." "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now? prompt for Alpha-17? I just love that big grump 🥹

thank you very much:)

Challenge

Summary: You're at a medical seminar, and Alpha-17 is there to play bodyguard for you. And your relationship changes.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1930

Warnings: Smut, shameless smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This wasn't going to be smut when I started to write it, but Alpha took control and said that this is happening, and I'm apparently weak for him. I'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted.

Divider by Saradika

“This place is awful,” Alpha-17 grumbles as he folds his arms over his chest and glowers at a scrawny Doctor who looks like he’s about to come over and talk to you.

“You didn’t have to come to this seminar, Alpha.”

“I’m following orders,” He replies sarcastically. “General Ti said you needed a bodyguard. So here I am. Guarding your body.”

“Hm…and what are you guarding my body from, exactly?” You ask, as you flip through the brochure, “What kind of food do you want me to order for us tonight, by the way.”

“Hm?” He glances at the brochure over your shoulder and taps a restaurant, “They have good curry, according to someone else’s bodyguard.” Alpha replies, though he doesn’t finish answering your question until you grabbed the menu for the restaurant that he indicated, “Anyway, I’m apparently protecting your body from horny scientists.”

“...wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you seriously scaring off potential dates? Alpha!”

“You don’t need a date. You’re here for work, remember.” Alpha snarks.

“You sound jealous.”

“I’m pretty sure that guy can’t go up a flight of stairs without needing to pause to catch his breath.” Alpha says snidely, “He definitely wouldn’t be any fun in the sack.”

“Why are you even thinking about my sex life?” You ask.

“I have a lot of free time.”

“Which you spend thinking about me being naked.”

Alpha tilts his head and drags his gaze down your body, humming thoughtfully, “I have a very vivid imagination, princess.”

You scowl at him, and ignore the way that your face burns with the ease of long practice. You take a deep breath and look away from him, “You talk a good game, Alpha. But what would you do if I actually took you at your word?”

He arches an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“If you had the guts, Alpha, you would have kissed me already.” You say as you turn and meet his gaze evenly. Challenging Alpha is never a good idea, on account of the fact that he always wins. But you’re so tired of him flirting with you and then not doing anything about it.

Alpha straightens, and his gaze is locked on your face, “You think something is stopping me from doing that right now?”

“I don’t think you will. I think you’re all talk.”

Alpha stares at you for a long moment, absolutely silent, and then he smiles, slow and dark, “Okay.”

You pause and shoot him a strange look, “Okay?”

“Okay.” He repeats, his smile never once changing.

“Okay…” You say slowly, and then you turn your attention towards the brochure rack. However you expected him to react to your challenge, that wasn’t it.

You jerk when you feel his finger trail up your spine to stop in the middle of your neck, “You might just regret that, princess.” Alpha breathes in your ear, and then he’s no longer touching you.

You glance at him, he looks completely calm, though his gaze is locked on your face and the promising smile on his lips hasn’t wavered. You take a steadying breath, and turn to him, “Do you see anything you want to do?” You ask, as you motion at the stand.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “Yeah, I do.” His grin grows when you shift slightly under his heated gaze, “But I don’t see anything on the stand I’m interested in.”

“Great!” You reply as you quickly spin away from him, “Then I’ll just grab a few of the restaurant menus and then we can go.” You hear him chuckle behind you, and you kind of want to pout. But you also brought this on yourself.

You grab a handful, necessary since you’re going to be here at this seminar for the next week or so, and then you turn to head towards the lift. Alpha, dutifully, trails after you and settles against the wall inside the lift.

He slams his finger against the button that shuts the door, causing the doors to slide shut before another scientist can enter the elevator with you.

“That wasn’t nice,” You say as the lift starts moving.

“I’m not nice.”

“Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“You just keep digging that hole, don’t you princess?” Alpha murmurs, his eyes glittering.

You consider him for a moment, and then you lift your chin, defiantly, “I still think you’re all talk, Alpha.”

His smile grows into a grin, and he reaches out to brush his thumb over your lower lip, “You know why I didn’t kiss you in the lobby?” He asks conversationally.

“Because you don’t mean it.”

“Because I fully intend to have you naked as soon as I have you in the room, and no one is allowed to see that but me.” Alpha growls out, “Especially not those scientists down there.”

Your lips part slightly, “Oh.”

His thumb presses a little harder against your lower lip, “Unless, princess, you’re not interested.”

“I never said that,” You reply immediately, and Alpha smirks at you, his gaze heated, but drops his hand as the doors open. He allows you to lead the way to the room. He waits patiently as you key in the door code, and he waits patiently for the door to slide shut behind him.

And then he’s on you.

Your back is pressed against the door, and his lips are warm and demanding against yours. He uses his teeth and tongue to devastating effect, and when he breaks the kiss, you’re flushed and breathless.

He takes a step away from you, and you whine low in your throat, “Alpha-?” As he backs into the room and settles on the couch.

“Come away from the door, princess.” He orders, his voice a low rumble. And you obediently step away from the door, and get to the middle of the room, before his voice stops you, “Stop there.” Alpha leans back against the couch, his legs splayed, as he palms the obvious bulge in his pants. He lazily frees his cock from the confines of his pants, and smirks at you, “See something you like, princess.”

Your gaze is locked on his cock, and you take half a step towards him.

“Did I say you could move, princess?” Alpha asks, his voice low.

You hesitate, but move back into the original position.

“Good girl,” He praises as he lazily strokes his cock, “Strip for me, my pretty girl. I want to see you.”

With shaking hands, you start peeling your clothes off. First your shirt and bra, and then your pants and underwear. And as soon as you’re bare in front of him, you fold your arms over your stomach.

“Beautiful,” He murmurs, his gaze hungrily dragging down your body. Alpha considers you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Come here, princess.”

You cross the short distance quickly, and Alpha pulls you to balance on his knee, rather than pulling you flush against him like how you wanted. “Alpha-” His name slips from you in a whine, and he leans in to kiss you, turning your whine into a sigh.

He pulls away and leans back against the couch, “Touch yourself,” Alpha orders, his gaze dragging down your body to linger on your pussy, “Make yourself cum, princess.”

Your fingers twitch towards his cock, and he laughs softly, “I know what you want, princess.” One of his hands ghosts across your breasts, and he rolls one of  your nipples between his fingers, and he’s rewarded with a moan, “Can you do this for me, princess?”

You release a shaky breath, but you nod, and your hand slides down your body. You ease in a single finger and you thrust slowly, as you twist your wrist so you’re able to rub the little bundle of nerves that brings you so much pleasure.

You fall into your usual habits, your free hand coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your needy moans. 

Alpha releases a growl and tugs your hand away from your mouth, “I want to hear you.” He threads his fingers with yours, and he’s not the least bit surprised when you tightly squeeze his hand.

And when you’re right there, right on the edge of reaching your climax, Alpha grabs your wrist and pulls your drenched hand away from your body. “No…’m so close….” you whine out, writhing on his lap for the friction that you need. Though you stop moving when Alpha takes your fingers into his mouth and starts licking them clean.

He releases your fingers, and pulls you a little closer, his lips catching yours in a heated kiss, and you moan at the taste of Alpha mixed with the subtle taste of yourself still on his tongue.

Your hips jerk when you feel the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly, very slowly, he pulls you down his hard length. He’s big, much bigger than your fingers or any of the toys you’ve used in the past. It’s a little uncomfortable, but as you settle fully on his length, the discomfort fades into pleasure.

Alpha breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, as curses fall from his lips at the way you’re fluttering around him, “So fucking tight,” He groans, “Let me know when you’re ready to move, princess.”

You press your face against his neck, your hands curling tightly into his shirt, and you nod. Slowly you rock your hips, unsure about the unfamiliar position, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually find a rhythm that has the coil in your stomach winding tight again.

“That’s right, princess. Use my cock to chase your pleasure,” He groans in your ear, shallowly thrusting up into you.

You release a quiet whine when you realize that you can’t quite push yourself over the edge, “Alpha-”

“Shh,” He soothes you with a hand down your spine, “What do you need, Princess?”

“I can’t-”

“I have you.” Alpha murmurs, “Wrap your arms around me.” You do as he instructs, wrapping your arms tightly around him, and then he thrusts up into you roughly, as one of his hands slides between you to quickly roll his thumb over your clit.

And finally the coil snaps, and Alpha’s name falls from your lips like a prayer. And he continues fucking you though your orgasm, chasing his own release as he holds you tightly against his chest, praise falling from his lips as you slowly came down from your high.

His thrusts become shallow, and his lips crash against yours as he pulls you down around him, hard, and then he holds you still as he spills his release deep inside you. 

Alpha keeps you flush against him, staying buried deep within you as he presses lingering kisses against your neck and throat. And neither of you speak until you both have your breathing under control.

And then he tilts his head back to look at you, a smug smirk playing on his lips, “Do you believe me now?”

You blink at him, slightly bewildered, and then you pout, “Yeah. I guess.”

His smirk widens, and he lazily smoothes his hand down your spine, “So, Princess, how long do you think you need before round two?”

You release a breathless laugh, “Can we at least move to a bed, please?”

“Not a bad idea,” Alpha murmurs, “This time you’ll be under me, princess.” He kisses you deeply, and then stands, his arms strong around you.

[officialdaydreamer00]

hello star child!! thank you so much for your service <33 as payment and as thanks, please take this bowl of lollipops!! i'm sure you can find something you'll like ^^ and if not, right next to it you'll find a strawberry cheesecake. i wanted to express my upmost gratitude for your work. you're wonderful ^^

for this event, i'd like to send a letter to my beloved levi from obey me, if that's alright!!

Dear Levi,

Thank you for being alive. Thank you for being yourself. I know you don’t have the highest opinion of yourself but every moment I spend with you is so much fun. I love you dearly, and have for years now, and I hope you were able to eat a good meal today.

I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always be there for you. Even if though I’m in a different world, far away from you, my heart yearns for you. If that embarrasses you, which I’m sure it will, don’t worry about being annoying or irritating me, you never have and I promise you never will. I want to make sure you know how much you mean to me, and maybe someday you’ll accept it wholly. I’m always yearning for you, whether you realize it or not. I want to take care of you, I want to make you happy, I want to help you with anything and everything I can. I love you, I love you, I love you.

I can’t repeat it enough times. And you know neither of us are good with words, so letters help us express our feelings, so I hope my adoration is conveyed.

You might not like how you look, but I do. I think your hair is such a pretty color, and your eyes remind me of the sunset at the beach. I love kissing your forehead and your cheeks, I love how shaky your hands get when we hug, I love how you put a hand over your mouth when you’re embarrassed or angry, I love all the silly jabs you throw when you don’t know how to react to affection. You’re so wonderful and beautiful and funny and smart, and I love you for all of that and more.

I love you, sin and all. Thank you for falling for me too.

Auburn

*trips on the milky way* IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I'VE DONE A DELIVERY I'M SO LATE (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

and as always, obligatory nickname conversion:

auburn -> levi's henry

To my Henry,

Can't believe I'm actually sitting down and writing a response to a letter after a long while thinking about it and procrastinating.

A letter from a human I probably don't deserve.

(eugh how do i even write letters i never write letters-)

I'm not good with words, which we both know already, so I'll try my worst and keep it short. I can't believe time flies so fast, has it been years already? Time's really weird when you become aware of it, it just slips through like sand, and I don't think I like that. Especially with a human I've come to, well, care for.

For the longest time, I thought my obsessions, my nonexistent social skills, my struggles, they would deter you from approaching. But... you never did. I used to hate myself for, well, everything (I still do, but that's another thing), but you still stayed by my side regardless. You saw my growth, you went through so much with me and for me, you chose me, solely for who I am, and I can't thank you enough for it.

From the bottom of my heart (and I mean it), thank you. Thank you for everything.

Leviathan

(written with speech-to-text)

tags: @identity-theft-101 @cloudcountry @xen-blank @dove-da-birb @cookiesandbiscuits @edith-is-a-cat + levi likers :D

do reblogs and/or comment if you enjoy my works!

[ladyluscinia]

I'm already so sick of how the fallout of ofmd season 2 has snowballed into people on here going "fandom these days just can't handle Bad Things happening in media-- newsflash, characters have to get hurt and die, grow up!" all condescending like. First of all, in the context of Izzy, most people I've seen discuss his death agree that they would've accepted and enjoyed his death if it had just been handled appropriately, and also. "You just can't handle bad things happening to your fave!" Bruh. We were all partying it up when Izzy lost his fucking leg and was suffering physically and mentally. It can be FUN to see your blorbo suffer!

And that is just one example of a larger trend on this site-- people are really gonna come onto the "we love putting our blorbos in the blender and watching them struggle and suffer" site and say "kids these days can't handle Bad Things happening to their blorbos." Sorry, but that's just nonsense. Fandom loves their fix-its, but they also love shattering their faves. The problem has never been Bad Things happening in general, but HOW those things are framed within the narrative and how that narrative is told. The problem is when something is out of place in its genre, or when it goes against a promise the show has made, or when suffering is used flippantly and uncaringly, or when a character suffers and suffers and then just when they've finally caught a break, they're kicked down again, just for a cheap tug at your heartstrings.

Both within the context of ofmd AND in a wider fandom context, fandoms LOVE when our blorbos are hurt, as long as our blorbos are hurt RIGHT.

... And I think it sure is Something that a fandom can have a rampant issue with fans of a character being harassed and sent death threats and that's just "normal fandom being fandom" but god forbid people feel Emotions. About a Character and a Show. And dare to react by... just Offering Criticism! No, death threats are "fandom culture that comes with the territory," but if you vent post or criticize a writing decision in media, THAT'S being "hysterical" and "overly emotional" and "truly frightening behavior!" I just LOVE (big sarcasm) how back when people were getting doxxed and threatened for liking a guy, the fandom was all *cricket noises,* but NOW suddenly everyone is "terrified and exhausted by fandom's volatility" and "concerned about the fragile mental health of fans" when you simply say "damn that episode sucked and I sure am sad about it."

The OFMD fandom was toxic as fuck for a year and a half and continued to be toxic as fuck for all the airing of S2, so hardly surprising that the aftermath of S2 appears to be... toxic as fuck.

Least surprising thing in the world is that the people who hated Izzy and passively or actively supported driving his fans out of the fandom for "ruining it for everyone else" now think his fans should leave the fandom if they are so upset and stop leveraging "baseless criticism" at the show that is "ruining it for everyone else." They have normal not-at-all-parasocial relationships leading them to directly @ David Jenkins and thank him for a season that somehow managed to be both flawless and have all its flaws blamed on MAX, but those wretched Izzy stans have horrible-evil-parasocial relationships making them harass the crew by *footage not found*

If Mr. Jenkins decides to go scroll the #ofmd s2 tag on tumblr and stumbles across me - a random blog and icon - outlining how I think he fucked his show up, that's pretty clearly on him? This is tumblr. I have no relationship with this man or obligation to tailor every word I say as if he's bound to see it and going to take it personally???

I'm actually a big proponent of "Don't @ the cast and crew about pretty much anything" because the same fandom mentality that makes you think you can randomly ask him about your headcanon like you're chatting is what all these people are melting down about if someone directly goes "hey you killed my favorite character and that makes me mad!" - same fucking people, same fucking parasocial relationship. The standard of "only @ them for good things" is the flimsiest fucking line, as any ao3 writer who has received unsolicited "constructive criticism" or "advice" can tell you.

If we want to snidely get into "what this is really about" well it's the same fucking thing it was before:

People substituting subjective opinion as objective fact with zero self-awareness of doing so. "I liked this so it's good." "I didn't like this so it's bad." "I got bad vibes from that character so he was clearly written to be horrendous and unlikable." "I sympathized with this character so anyone suggesting he has flaws is demonizing him."

Or the deepest circle of fandom hell: "I think [insert identity] rep is so important and this piece of media fits into however I personally define 'good rep', therefore it is flawless and/or morally significant enough to be above criticism."

...which, yeah, leads to temper tantrum levels of fandom infighting, especially since people online express, fairly frequently, "I didn't like it because it was bad" and then present evidence for their point. And also a lot of fandom likes bad TV. Or even just mediocre TV that's entertaining.

I personally was not going to be happy about any person beyond one-offs, blatant villains, and background randoms dying because "they had to" (for their own arc or someone else's) because I fundamentally think if you believe you've written yourself into that corner in a workplace comedy that's built around a main romance arc... you're kinda stupid. Yes, even if it's pirate themed. Enough injuries have been walked off and lampshaded to confirm that part is aesthetic.

The fandom wiki for The Office lists 11 deceased characters. Three of them are fictional characters who die in an action-movie episode. Two are one-offs that get named dropped seasons later as having died offscreen. One of them is an offscreen cat, who appears to have had a more significant death plotwise and emotionally than any of the humans, and another is a woman who literally exists as a picture someone makes up a personality for and then discovers the real woman died. The most significant character on the list is a temp boss that got a four episode story arc about being a useless idiot who died in the hospital after a basketball dunking accident.

That is a show that ran for 9 seasons and over 200 episodes. It's pretty universally regarded as good, and the cringe asshole boss getting genuinely moving emotional beats is a big part of that. I think we can maybe pretty confidently say that reflecting the random realities of death is not essential to every story.

If OFMD wants to be evaluated as a hard-hitting drama or a queer story about the struggle of piracy against the Evil Empire, I will compare it to Black Sails instead of The Office. I just don't think David Jenkins is going to enjoy that comparison.

I'm not going to lower my standards because [insert rep reason the show must absolutely be a wild success here].

[my-favourite-zhent]

2024 Writing Roundup (Late)

Wasn't sure whether to put this on @unmoderatedzhentarim or here but all my other writing is here so what the hey.

I really enjoyed reading everyone's writing roundups and wrap ups have been wanting to do one, bit late as I've not had the time or energy for tag games the last few months (hopefully will soon).

Words posted (not including group works): 69, 682

Additional words written over various projects:

NT: 14, 198

F&F: 8,827

F&F Sequel: 1466

Untitled One-Shot A: 468

Untitled One-Shot B: 1513

Total: 26, 475

Grand total: 96, 156

I feel a little bit better about my output seeing it as a total number.

Fandoms: Baldur's Gate 3 (pretty much just the Zhentarim)

Highest Kudos: New Tricks at 77, a Rugan x OC long fic that I hope to finish this year. Set before and during the events of the game.

Highest Hit One shot: I don't have one posted from *this* year but Worthwhile Reward from last December comes in at 101. This one is Rugan x Tav where Tav gets the drink she was promised at the Elf Song.

New Trickshings I tried:

A long fic, which I have a love-hate relationship now as it's my darling but seriously can it just write itself?

Lore research, have not written in 20ish year but I don't recall investigating anything back then.

Getting involved in Fandom, previously I've watched a lot from the sidelines so it was nice to actually talk to other creatives and fans this time around, big shout out to @littleplasticrat for pulling me into it.

Fic I spent the most time on:

New Tricks by a landslide, it's consumed me pretty much every single day of 2024, even if my output has slowed down considerably.

Fic I spent the least time on:

Untitled One-Shot A, have only spent a few hours on it. This was going to be a character study of one of the Zhents but the other projects are consuming me so much that I don't know if or when it will get done.

Favourite thing I wrote:

New Tricks! Again! As much as I had fun getting Fortune and Favour started NT is still my first love and will probably continue to be so until it's finished.

Favourite thing(s) I read:

Quite a few and I'm bound to forget some but I'll break it up by category and hopefully I do not over tag and anger tumblr:

Comedy:

A Honeypot; A Thirst Trap by @threerattsinatrenchcoat

The start of the Bandit Queen saga. Rugan and the Waukeen's rest gang have met their match in the Bandit Queen. Time and again they come up against her schemes and vice-versa. Will the gang ever come out on top? Will Rugan ever get laid? Read to find out!

Drama:

Aqua Vitae by @dustdeepsea

Amazingly grounded and poignant work that takes place in the Rugan cut-content AU. Octavia (Tav) runs into Rugan at Elfsong only to find him a lot more troubled than when last they met.

One For the Road by @thisaccountisagainstmywill

The first in a series of character defining dalliances for Rugan. The exploration of his first romance and how it would shape him.

Fluff:

Isn't it a Marvel by @fistfuloftarenths

A post BG3 ending where bard Tav enjoys a day out with her favourite (former) Zhents, and a little bit of mischief.

Somewhere I have never travelled also by dust

An encounter with sweet Zhent Olly from the POV of a young woman named Nora in Berdusk.

I was and forever will be so touched Dust decided to set this in the NT universe, and I hope I'll be able to do Olly some justice!

On-going series aka Long fic:

de diversis artibus also by fistful

A fantastic Salazon centered story, the narrative is shared between him and the POV of a very sheltered Partriar's daughter by the name of Rosafieri. Rosa is both infuriating and endearing in her naivety and the perfect compliment to Sal.

God and Monsters also by dust

The threequel to Aqua Vitae. Set post-game, Octavia (Tav) and a broken Rugan embark on an investigation for the guild while studiously avoiding talking about their feelings.

The Red Right Hand by @pentuppen

Yvie St. John is a firey medical assistant that, thanks to the reckless and selfish behaviour of her mother, finds herself the target of some various dangerous loan sharks. A chance run in with our favourite Zhent simultaneously ruins her life and offers her an opportunity to get everything she's ever wanted.

Smut:

The Inkskin Pact by @littleplasticrat

A Rugan o' Clearlight story, a little exploration on one of his various tattoos and how it is very beneficial for a Zhent Tav.

A Snake in the Garden also by pentuppen

Rugan collects on a debt anyway that he can, only the token he's taken isn't traded for coin but for a night with an extremely talented tiefling courtesan.

The Perfect Mark by @luvwich

What if instead of encountering a heroic Tav, Rugan ran into a rather unscrupulous Dark Urge? One who doesn't fight her violent tendencies but instead finds a perfect opportunity for them in an unknowing Zhent.

Writing Goals for 2025:

Actually finish New Tricks (is this realistic? I couldn't tell you).

New Works:

Untitled One-Shot B! B is a bit different in character and trajectory but it's fun to write and its a bit of a collaboration so I hope to wrap it up soon.

Thanks for reading this far! And if you haven't done your own roundup yet give it a try~

[plusultraetc]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you so much @starlightbelle for tagging me!! If there are any One Piece fans following this blog, I highly recommend Belle's fics!

-- How many works do you have on AO3?

Officially I have 18, but it's 19 if you include the Star Wars au (my beloved). I haven't taken it out of the anonymous collection yet because I promised myself I would only do so when I posted the second chapter, but I still count it in my head!

-- What's your total AO3 word count?

95,613 :') I know that's nothing compared to some writers, but I am unreasonably pleased with it. I'm wondering if I should do something fun when I break 100k, which should hopefully be soon with chapter 2 of 'now i'm glad i get forever' 🤞

-- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

there's no good tricks but old ones

i'll take what i can get, i'll take what i am given

you've got no fear of the underdog

write me a list of how it is

every battle, every day

-- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I'm a smidge behind on literally everything this month, but I eventually respond to them all <3 I really do appreciate every single comment, they literally make my entire week and sometimes it takes me so long to reply because I am editing my response four hundred times to take out all of the !!!s.

(I also love getting to talk to others in the fandom, even if it's just for a single exchange--MHA is actually the Most Involved I've ever been in a fandom, and I've met so many really cool people by commenting and replying to comments on fics!! Thank you ao3 comments section, I love you ao3 comments section.)

-- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm this is tough bc I don't write a lot of angsty endings, and most of my fics are canon compliant anyway so the angst is relative? With this in mind, it's probably 'there's no good tricks but old ones'--it's one of my only fics where there isn't some kind of emotional breakthrough or connection reached (or even the start of one) and it's pre-Paranormal Liberation War arc so we all know Hawks is headed for A Really Bad Time 😬

-- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

All of them,, but I did write about Shinsou finding out he'd been accepted into the hero course in 'every battle, every day' which might take the cake (Brian from TAZ voice I'm so proud of them etc)

-- Do you write crossovers?

Do crossovers have to include characters from another media? Bc I've written aus set in other universes, but none of the characters from them appear 🤔

-- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully no! I did once receive a comment that was just like. A Statement with no tonal indicators, In All Caps, but I'm 99% sure it was meant to be taken positively. okay 98% sure.

-- Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! (I also don't read E-rated fics even though I get so many interesting looking recommendations with that rating 😭 If you've ever recommended me an E-rated fic and I just never brought it up again I'M SORRY)

-- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of?

-- Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also no!

-- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I think it would be fun :D

-- What's your all-time favorite ship?

It feels like cheating to say erasermic on the MHA blog, but like. I'm going to say erasermic on the MHA blog. I don't think I'd ever written anything for a ship in my life before them. To be loved is to be changed but to have a ship is also to be changed.

-- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Never say never but rip time travel fic lol.

-- What are your writing strengths?

IF I SAY SOMETHING YOU DISAGREE WITH LOOK AWAY. But. I think I write good dialogue, especially banter, and that I am occasionally funny. I also think I'm pretty good at describing places, but only if I have a clear mental image of them, so I feel like you can always tell when I'm not sure what a room looks like (which is most of the time).

-- What are your writing weaknesses?

Second-guessing and self-doubting myself into genuine writing paralysis. Also internal monologue/narration, like a character thinking about and articulating their feelings :')

-- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm a little confused about this question?? But I also only speak one language fluently so I can't do this anyway 😭

-- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

When my sister and I were kids we used to pick our favorite characters from a bunch of different movies/books/shows and tell stories about them all going on some kind of gigantic crossover adventure, so it was probably something along the lines of 'Scooby-Doo, Batman, and Jedidiah from Night at the Museum vs Firelord Ozai'

-- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have a few Demon Slayer WIPs I'd love to figure out one day!

-- What's your favorite fic you've written?

This question is so hard bc like. Does it mean my favorite fic while I was working on it, or my favorite result? The fic that was easiest to write, or most difficult but most worth it?? The fic I've reread the most, or the fic I'm afraid to reread in case it doesn't live up to the memory I have of it??? Can I do a top 3????

This was so much fun!! (even though it did give me several small crises staring at my stats page--run 'i'll take what i can get, i'll take what i am given,' 'there's no good tricks but old ones' is right behind you!!) No-pressure tagging @machiroads @blinkeasy @kyurilin @karliahs @poppy5991 @ifyougoillfollow and anyone else who sees this & wants to participate!! I was scrolling through my following tab but omg it's a long list so I def missed some writers 😭

[moonheavens]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

thank you for the tag my dear @littleoldrachel! it's always such a pleasure to engage in these kinds of fandom games and you're one of my fave people to nosily read answers from...

I only started writing in 2023 and my pace of writing new stuff is glacial so there won't be that much to share (I am one of those people with thousands of words in unfinished snippets in my google docs but very few of that actually makes it to AO3), but without further ado, let's go...

questions under the break <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

3 at the moment!

What's your total AO3 word count?

121,546 words

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

I only have three, so I'll list them in that order:

in the centre of a circle my first long-form chaptered fic, and still the one I am most proud of. I truly, thoroughly enjoyed writing this and diving into Sirius's brain, and I think that really shines through.

tongue full of tomorrows my first-born! I wrote this quite quickly and feverishly and as a result it's pretty simplistic, but I still like it. it's a fluffy little thing I really enjoyed writing.

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft it feels like I wrote this fic weeks ago, not almost half a year! I spent a lot of time trying to get this just right, but I'm really happy with how it came out. hurt/comfort is one of my favourite tropes and I had a blast taking a crack at it, extremely self-indulgently.

Do you respond to comments?

always, and embarrassingly quickly, too. it's so very special to receive a comment, whether it's a few words or a lengthy ramble, and I love engaging with people who liked what I wrote.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

none of my fics really have super angsty endings, but I think no thing defines a man is the angstiest one because it's canon compliant. as in, the fic ends semi-happily, but there's still a war looming above their heads, you know?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

that would be in the centre of a circle! there's a big fat HEA tag on that fic, and I stuck to that promise—the boys are thriving (very gay and very in love).

Do you write crossovers?

assuming this means fics that straddle multiple fandoms? in which case, no

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

no, actually. or well, I haven't seen any of it. I've been lucky enough to only receive positive comments and feedback.

Do you write smut?

yep. there is some smut in in the centre of a circle, and I have some WIPs floating around my drive that have smut, including a WIP that is... excessively filthy (casanova Remus, if anyone remembers me yapping about that one). like, it's explicit explicit. if that ever sees the light of day I might need to scrub my digital footprint, honestly.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I know!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

officially, no. however, my bff/roommate and I have an abandoned WIP floating around the google drive (a 9-1-1 AU) that we co-wrote. we spent hours outlining it and assigning roles, re-watching the show, etc. it's only about 5 chapters before we abandoned it, but still! it was fun, and I'd be open to doing it again.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Wolfstar, of course, and I have unfortunately fallen down the Jayvik (from Arcane) rabbit hole...

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I don't have any WIPs running on AO3, if that's what the question is, but I have dozens on my drive. I think the 9-1-1 one will unfortunately stay there forever, simply because I don't think I'd want to write it without my friend (even though it was exciting). otherwise, I have made it a new year's resolution to actually try to finish and publish the two WIPs that have been hijacking my brain the most in 2025... so wish me luck!

What are your writing strengths?

see, now this is where you lose me. I've been a writer for as long as I can remember, and I have written fanfic for most of that time. despite that, I am an extremely self-deprecating writer and I suffer from a crippling case of perfectionism. is that silly? yes. do I love writing? yes. is being super critical of my work a blockade to doing what I love? also yes.

I love writing, but I struggle to see the forest for the trees, so to say, and pinpoint my own strengths. I get in my own way a lot. but, if I had to pick something, I think I'm good at writing emotions. but that would more so be because other people have told me so than because I actually believe it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

ah, so maybe I should have put the "my own worst enemy" spiel here, instead, haha. but yes. I have so many ideas, and I think in a general sense that my writing and ideas are pretty neat, it's just my own brain that sabotages me. one of my goals in 2025 is trying to actually finish something, instead of building a rolodex of random snippets and unfinished WIPs in my google drive. (as for actual writing, I think my weakness is over-describing things that could easily be said in one sentence instead of my five).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

love it, why not. I haven't done it myself (yet) but I adore the welsh-speaking Remus and french-speaking Sirius headcanon and enjoy reading it in fics. I recently read a great fic in which Remus spoke swahili and afrikaans. as long as there's translations in the end notes, make them speak anything you want!

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

there's some Marauders ships (dorlene, mostly) that I would love to include in future works but I want to be able to do them justice, so I'd need to find the proper place in one of my fics for them to get the development and attention they deserve and not just be there in the background for the plot, if that makes sense.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

in the centre of a circle. she's my baby, and I love her. I spent so many hours in cafe's scattered across London outlining and writing, removing and adding and editing and just being stuck in Sirius's head, and I really love the way it came out. you can see the difference in writing quality between chapter 1 and 7 a little too clearly, but I had so much fun writing it regardless of that. the original idea was just a little brainwave of what if? and it went somewhere entirely different (Sirius took the wheel) and it was exhilarating to roll with it.

* * *

TAGS: honestly, I don't really know who's already done this or not so forgive me if you have. also, if you want to do this but haven't been tagged, feel free to use me as your tagger. tagging @magicbeings @pretentiouswreckingball @kaaaaaaarf @pain-in-the-riri @euripidestrousers <3