#i got possessed and was drawing this for three hours

[ndrwlls]

i love the fact that in mag142 jon became one of the entities he reads about. he is now a nightmare haunting innocent people i love that for him

no green eyes version he looks crazy here

[martyryo]

Cooked out of nothing...because it's her...

Process video cause I like it (ignore the initial thing I don't wanna crop it 🤤)

[kyonshi-8610]

サニー坊っちゃん

(なんか未完成。もう諦めたよ)

[kingkatsuki]

— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

[moonstruckme]

hiiiiiiiii mae <3 i have an idea for thawing out series. what about if reader has a 'moment' w one of them and the other boy gets slightly cranky bc of it but then is also confused bc he doesn't know if he wants r or the other boy.........and then EPIPHANY 😈

Thanks for your request! The mood of it got altered some but I hope you like it :)

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some hurt w/o comfort but dw we'll fix it down the line

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.6k words

“Pads!” Remus shouts across the ice. “Focus!”

Sirius’ cheeks pinken slightly as he tears his stare away from the Russian soloist practicing her quads. You laugh and say something to him that makes him pinch your waist meanly, as if you’ve been acting any better. 

You and Sirius are completely starstruck. Remus wants to be irritated at your distractibility, but it’s sort of adorable. You nearly fall on your bum watching the Austrian team run drills, Sirius is too busy eye-flirting with a Swedish skater to remember he’s supposed to be going into a turn, and you both stop your routine entirely when the Canadian duo steps out onto the ice. 

You and Sirius draw plenty of stares yourselves, though naturally only Sirius appears to notice. He shoots a wink at a skater admiring him and a glare at another looking too closely at you, his hand possessively on your lower back anytime you’re not running your routine. 

Altogether it means you have to spend a couple of extra hours learning to work through this specific brand of stage fright and running your drills again after you all get your heads turned multiple times, but Remus lets it slide. He remembers being just as dazzled during his first Olympics, seventeen years old and feeling like he’d somehow snuck into the hall of fame, an imposter among legends. 

Part of him hopes that the embarrassment of having to do a half-ass death spiral in front of so many professionals will make Sirius finally go all the way, but no such luck. He keeps you firmly above where you ought to be, expression impassive even as Remus can see you pleading with him with your eyes. Still, the rest of the routine goes well, and Remus tries not to let it get under his skin. He hopes you’re right and Sirius really will pull through in the final hour; your faith in your partner is absolute, and Remus finds it easy to put his faith in you. 

He lets you loose to spend the afternoon as you’d like, but it comes as no surprise when he sees you both on the ice again. Remus knows you’ve likely got plenty of nerves to work off. It’s one thing to compete in your home country, another entirely to represent your home country while competing amongst the best figure skaters in the world. He calls you off the ice before one of you can overexert yourselves and pull something. Sirius swears up and down that his ankle hasn’t bothered him since the day after he hurt it, and Remus hasn’t seen anything to make him suspect differently, but he knows better than to take risks with a healing injury. You spend the rest of the afternoon playing cards and gambling for candies in Sirius’ room. 

Eventually you disperse to go to bed. Remus’ hip has been bothering him since the flight the previous day, so he goes on a walk to stretch it out. It’s odd, he thinks, how easy things have come to feel between the three of you. When he first arrived, Remus had every intention of setting up strict professional boundaries, of knowing you only as your coach and seeing you only during practice times. And then you started practicing together, and it seemed like his boundaries wouldn’t even be necessary. Sirius hated him, and besides that the two of you existed in a bubble no one could penetrate, intimate and trusting only each other. Now, after learning about what your former coach did to you, Remus understands why that was necessary. You were protecting each other, safeguarding your partnership and your careers. It would have made sense for you to keep Remus at more than an arm’s length, taking his coaching with grains of salt and keeping him well away from your private lives. 

But then there have been days like today. Still bickering with Sirius, still watching the two of you interact with a familiarity only years of history can grant, but feeling warm and welcome despite it all. It feels easy, to tease Sirius and let him snipe back. To let you lean your shoulder into his and not move away. It feels good. 

Remus’ hip is feeling fairly good too by the time he gets back, sore from the exercise but not so stiff. As he makes his way to his room, passing Sirius’ and then yours on the way, he sees light sneaking through the crack underneath your door. 

He frowns. It’s late, and you’re meant to practice again early tomorrow morning, your last day of practice before you compete. You should be well rested. As he approaches your door, he hears sound coming from inside. Low, crackling voices, and a song that tugs at the fringes of his memory. Then a sound he knows too well, the shushing of skates on ice.

Remus knocks. The door is thin enough that he hears your little gasp and a quiet snap, and when you say “come in,” it sounds like a question. 

He suppresses a smile, opening your door cautiously in case you didn’t really mean it. 

You’re sitting on your bed, one hand atop your shut laptop. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “It’s late.” 

“I know.” You look almost shy. Between that and the pajamas you have on, plaid little shorts and a bulky sweatshirt, Remus has the urge to pinch your chin between his fingers. “Sorry, I was just watching some, um…”

“Figure skating videos.” Your lips part, and he says, “I could hear them from outside.” 

“Oh.” You laugh. It’s a nice sound, one Remus can happily say he’s come to know well, but this one is woven through with nerves. “That’s embarrassing.” 

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asks honestly. “It’s normal to want to study your competition. And they’re fun, I still watch them all of the time.” 

“It’s not…” You give him a tentative look, then scoot over on your bed. “Do you want to see?” 

Remus can’t imagine you’re watching anything he hasn’t seen a million times, but he is curious which are your favorites. He’s careful to sit on top of your covers, a few inches between your leg and his. The bed doesn’t allow for anything more. 

“Fuck, did they really have to go back to making them out of cardboard?” 

That gets another nervous laugh out of you as you open your laptop screen, playing the video. And Remus knows then where he’s heard the music before. It’s his music. You’re watching his old routine, a niche one from a small competition back in Wales. Remus was fourteen when this was filmed. 

He glances at you, and you’re watching the video with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, the colors of the screen dancing across your eyes. 

“I’ve always admired how tight your form was,” you say. “You were so young, but it was obvious you were putting the work in.” 

“I practiced a lot,” Remus agrees. “Too much, really.” 

The nostalgia he feels for figure skating is bittersweet when he watches videos like this. He remembers spending all his time in the rink, every hour he wasn’t in school or at home, nothing spared for friends or hobbies. He did love it, but in loving it he forgot to build a life outside of it. Life was constant motion, training and competitions and awards whirling around him like the rink during a spin; by the time he had his accident anyone that might have been his friend had their own friends, and Remus realized he may have been lonely for years. 

“I’m really glad you agreed to coach us.” You’re still watching the video, young Remus doing a camel spin. “You’ve made us a lot better, both of us. I know Sirius is going to end up fixing the spiral, and I’m going to try my best, and…I really hope we can make you proud.” 

“You will,” Remus says, instead of you already do. It feels wrong to take any credit for how incredible you are, either one of you, but that is what he feels when he sees you out on the ice. Proud. He looks at you carefully. “You’ve seemed wound pretty tightly lately.” 

Your eyes drop, no longer looking at young Remus but not at the older one either. 

“It’s alright to be nervous,” he says gently, “so long as you know that you deserve to be here. You’re going to do great.” 

You rub your lips together. “Were you nervous during your Olympics? Is it okay for you to talk about?” 

“Yeah,” Remus says, a bit surprised, “it’s fine. I was nervous. I was…” he chuckles “I was freaking out, honestly. But when I got out there, it was really just like any rink. The music and the routine were the same, so I just let myself get lost in it. I almost forgot where I was until it was over, and people were waving flags at me and all that from the stands.” He feels his lips curve with the memory. Bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “It’s not so bad. Anyway, I think it’s got to be better to go through it with someone else. I was on my own, but you’ll have Sirius with you.” 

You give him a little sideways smile. “And you, right?” 

A fond warmth blooms in Remus’ chest. “And me.” 

“Has it been difficult for you to coach us?” you ask him tentatively. “I mean, to come back?” 

Remus takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says after a minute. “At first, it really was. I’m not proud of it, and I don’t think I really knew it at the time, but I was jealous of both of you. Anytime you did something differently than I would have, I got so frustrated that you were throwing away these opportunities I would kill to have again. It was easy to look at either one of you and wish I was in your place.” 

You’re nodding, not a trace of hurt or offense in your expression. You look at him like you understand. 

“But that stopped a long time ago,” he says. “After I worked with you for longer, it became clear you’re both very different skaters than I was.” You huff a laugh, and Remus nudges your shoulder admonishingly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think early on I wasn’t a very good coach to you because I couldn’t see your individual strengths. But now I think I can, and it’s really a privilege to watch you skate together. It’s lovely. And I’ve loved getting to know you and Sirius, too. So, yeah, it was difficult at first, but I’m really glad I came on. And I’m glad you were patient enough to let me stay.” 

That got a bit more earnest than he intended. Remus feels heat rise to his face, but you’re still nodding, thoughtful, like you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He sees you rub your lips together again. 

“I really want to do well,” you say softly, “but I’m not the skater Sirius is. I don’t have his natural talent, and I don’t flourish under pressure the way he does. I—that’s usually when I mess up.” Remus’ chest aches at the vulnerability in your voice, his hand moving unconsciously to cover yours on the bed. Some of the tension goes out of you at the touch. “I’ve tried my whole life to keep up with him, but I’m never quite there, and you guys, you’ve both been these incredible, talented skaters…” Your eyes meet his, timid and ashamed. “I’m afraid I’m going to let you both down.” 

“Are you kidding?” You drop your gaze, and a surprised little laugh trips off Remus’ tongue as he ducks his head to follow, holding your hand more securely. “I’m sorry, that was rash, but really. How can you think that? You’re one of the most talented skaters I’ve ever seen.” 

You’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle, an encouragement more than anything, but you let him turn you towards him. 

“I don’t care how much of it comes from natural aptitude,” he says firmly. “You’re an incredible skater. Even when I didn’t know you at all, it was obvious that you care about this more than Sirius or I likely ever have. That’s important. You can see it in how hard you train, and in how you move on the ice.” Remus shakes his head, expelling a breath. “It’s mesmerizing. You’re beautiful to watch.” 

You’re not shying away from him now, but Remus doesn’t let go of you. Your expression is wide open, diffident but curious. He goes on.

“The way you skate, it’s not just about the motions or the art of it, it’s joyous. Anyone can see how happy you are out there. That’s what makes you so good. You really love it.” 

“You did, too,” you murmur. 

His voice softens in kind. “I did. But not the way you do.” 

Your eyes lower, but this time he allows you it. Remus is suddenly acutely aware of your leg where it's pressed up against his, of his own heartbeat. He’s still holding your hand. 

You wet your lips. “Do you really mean all that?” 

“Why would I give you a whole speech I didn’t believe?” 

You crack a smile. “Some coaches call it a pep talk.” 

“You’re beautiful to watch,” he says again, voice dropping to a murmur as he realizes you’re staring at his lips. He breathes in, and the distance between you lessens. “You’re beautiful.” 

Remus knows he’s judged you rightly when your hand comes around his waist, pressing into the softness of his jumper to glean an impression of the skin underneath. You kiss like you skate, with a sweet eagerness, ready to explore and wanting to learn. Your lips part, inspiring a similar parting in Remus, and you let out a breath with a soft humming sound. 

Remus' nerves are alight underneath your hand on his side. He angles his torso to get you closer, free hand coasting up your thigh. Your fingers bunch in his jumper, kisses picking up heat as he lets his hand settle at the small of your back, an echo of how Sirius touched you this morning when—

Sirius. 

Remus draws away from you so suddenly he hears you gasp. He still has your face in his hand, can feel the flustered warmth of it before he removes that too, putting distance between you. 

“Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. Guilt burns in the back of his throat. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just, I—”

Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. 

“I didn’t think that through.” He can feel his heartbeat in his mouth. Sirius is in love with you. Remus is only just starting to feel like a part of your team, but this could send you all back in time. Kissing one of his skaters, who the other is in love with? His stomach hurts. “I’m your coach, and you—we have a big competition coming up. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

He edges off your bed, looking at you while he does. Your lips are still parted, eyes wide. 

“It was a really shit idea,” he says, “and I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” 

You rub your lips together. Remus feels it like you’re still moving them against his own. “It’s fine,” you say on a breath. “We can forget it.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. 

“It’s okay.” You’re shaking your head, and he’s backing away, both of you like deer caught in headlights. “You’re right, it was silly. We’re professionals, we can get past it.” 

Remus feels himself nodding, feels the handle of your door in his hand. 

“Practice in the morning?” you ask weakly. 

He pushes out a breath as he opens the door. “Yeah. Six thirty.”

[annebd]

winter warmers, day 16: secret santa. ~1800 words <-holy shit.

There’s a little box on the corner of Daniel’s desk, wrapped neatly in green paper and topped with a gold bow. The tag is a small square card, no more than a couple inches across, with a short message on one side:

To: Daniel

From: Your Secret Santa

Daniel opens the box and unfolds the carefully wrapped tissue paper bundle inside to remove the expected Scrabble tile. Today is the letter H. He tucks it into the top drawer of his desk, along with the rest of the tiles. The bow is also gently removed and stuck up on the pinboard next to the other twenty-two bows that he’s gotten so far this month. Some are gold, some silver, a few red and green.

There’s one particularly sparkly bow that’s been shedding glitter on him and all of his possessions for the past week. Halfway through the marketing team meeting last Thursday, Max reached over and brushed his thumb across Daniel’s cheekbone.

“You are all shiny, Daniel,” he said and showed him the sparkles of golden glitter that he’d rubbed off. “Always you’re so handsome, but today you’re like a shining star, too.”

Daniel was pretty sure he’d turned bright red, not even the deep tan in the middle of an Australian summer able to hide the color rising in his cheeks.

“Oh, uh, thanks, mate,” he replied and then turned back to the meeting on the last marketing push for Christmas sales, while trying not to think about the feeling of Max’s hand against his skin.

Today’s bow isn’t quite as glittery, but it does glint prettily in the glow of Daniel’s desk lamp. It’s 8:52am on December 23rd. Early enough that he has time to sip his coffee without interruption for a few minutes as he waits for his computer to boot up and he has to hop into the workday.

He eyes the drawer that holds the Scrabble tiles and decides he’s got time. As he’s done so many times so far this month, he pulls them all out and scatters them across his desk. Twenty three tiles so far. One of them is a blank, but a little question mark has been drawn on in black sharpie.

The ? tile showed up on the 17th, and he assumed that that was the end of it, so he’d spent the entire day trying to unscramble the letters, but couldn’t get anywhere. When another N arrived the next day, he realized that it wasn’t quite over yet.

The first box had arrived on the first of December. He wasn’t expecting it. George, over in operations, had floated the idea of doing a Secret Santa exchange a few weeks prior, but there had been so much hemming and hawing, with no one really wanting to commit, that he’d given up and moved on. Daniel hadn’t given it any further thought until the first box showed up.

Like every day since, the little box was wrapped inexpertly, though neatly, with green paper, and had a red bow stuck right on top. The same note, from “your secret Santa,” was attached. The Scrabble tile that day had been a D. Daniel assumed it stood for Daniel and that someone was either playing a silly joke, or truly had the worst taste in gift giving.

That assumption was only further confirmed on the second, when another box arrived, containing an R, which he could only assume stood for Ricciardo.

Thoroughly confused, he stopped by George’s office to poke his head in the door and ask when the Secret Santa drawing had been and why he hadn’t been involved.

“There was no drawing, mate,” George told him. “You lot were all too cool for the idea, so I didn’t bother. Why d’you ask?”

“Huh,” Daniel said, flummoxed. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

He brought it up to Max when they had lunch that Friday. It was Daniel’s favorite part of the week- getting Max all to himself for an hour, to make ridiculous jokes and watch Max turn pink from laughter.

“Strange, isn’t it? Just a random couple of Scrabble tiles. What, am I supposed to use them to make a name tag for myself?”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” Max replied. “And they are, of course, just using the Secret Santa as an excuse to send you gifts.”

“They’re some weird gifts, then,” Daniel said, and took a bite of his pastrami on rye. It was good. Mustardy.

“They might get better. It could be fun.” Max looked over at Daniel, who was in the middle of another big bite of his sandwich. “You’ve got a little-” and pointed to the corner of Daniel’s mouth. He reached out, as though he intended to swipe away the crumb with his own finger, but he pulled back and let Daniel dab at his mouth with a napkin.

“Thanks, Max. And I guess you’re right. But I reserve the right to be annoyed if it’s just a bunch of letters spelling my name.

Day three put a wrench in the name theory when he popped open the box and found a V. So definitely not his name then.

Over the next couple of days, he received a W and a Y. On the following Monday, he showed up to two Ls and another E, each tucked into one of three boxes lined up carefully along the edge of his desk. He’d wondered what would happen over the weekend, and he was quietly pleased that his secret Santa had taken into account the extra days.

And today, as Daniel sits sipping his coffee with twenty two letters and a question mark, he decides that he’s got to be able to figure this out. Christmas is in just two days, which means that he’s only expecting two more gifts. And really, he’s only expecting one gift, since the office is closed on the 25th, and he’s not coming in for anything- even a secret Santa surprise.

Daniel mixes the tiles around, trying different combinations of words. The twenty three tiles at hand read NOIVUHHTLEMIWARELDYNIE?, which he’s pretty sure isn’t a thing. He can spell various words. He’s got the letters for DANIEL, but not RICCIARDO, so he’s mostly ruled out his initial name tag theory.

He’s been able to make a few phrases, some more promising than others. He had “HAVE YOU LET ME DIE?” laid out when Max stopped by his desk last week.

Max had raised an eyebrow at the phrase and given Daniel a disapproving look. “You don’t think that’s what your secret admirer is saying, do you?”

Daniel shrugged. “No clue, mate. Your guess is as good as mine right now.”

Max didn’t offer any actual help, but he scrambled the tiles again so that the question was no longer visible. “I don’t know either, but probably it isn’t about death.”

Daniel tries a few more letter combos, but nothing is jumping out at him. As the clock on his desktop ticks over to 9:00, he gathers up the tiles and places them back into his drawer.

When he heads out of the office that afternoon, he bumps into Max in the elevator. “You’re wrapping up early today!” he exclaims.

Max is always staying late at the office, and Daniel is forever trying to get him to leave on time, have a life outside of work. But Max insists that software engineering waits for no man, and he’d rather just get as much work done in the office as possible, instead of having to take it home with him and continue with it there.

“Hello, Daniel,” Max says. “Yes, today is an early night. I have some things to do today. Before Christmas, you know.”

“I’m glad,” Daniel replies. “See you tomorrow?”

Max gives him a big smile. “Yes. Tomorrow. See you then.”

The next day is Christmas Eve, and, Daniel assumes, the last day of his Secret Santa gifts. He still has no clue what the tiles are supposed to be telling him, but he feels a nervous energy thrumming in his stomach. Something big is coming, he thinks.

He gets to his desk by 8:45, eager to unwrap his final gift and finally figure out what’s going on. To his surprise, instead of just the one little green box he’s expecting, there are three wrapped presents on his desk. The first is the usual green box, but the tag that he’s expecting to proclaim the usual salutations instead proclaims “open me first.” He checks the other two. The box to its right reads “open me second.” And, just to be sure, he confirms that the final box on the end says to open it last.

With a slight shake in his hand, he picks up the first box and plucks off the bow to secure it to the pinboard. He opens it up and pulls out the last tile, another W. He adds it to the stash in his drawer and then reaches for the second box.

It’s the same size as the first, wrapped in the same way- no bow on this one. Perhaps it’s a one bow per day kind of deal.

Inside, there’s a small slip of paper folded in half. Daniel unfolds it to find a clue:

W_ _ _ Y_ _ H_ _ _ D _ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ M_?

He waffles for a moment. Does he open the third gift, or does he unscramble the letters? The opening instructions didn’t say, so he supposes he could do either. Tiles, he decides.

He pulls open the drawer and tips the tiles onto his desk, then carefully arranges each one face up and pointing in the right direction.

Slowly, he starts moving tiles around. The Y is probably You, he guesses. So perhaps the M is Me? And then H could be Have. W is What? No, he realizes; that wouldn’t make sense. W for Will?

A sentence begins to take shape.

WILL YOU HAVE D_ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ ME?

Daniel is fairly certain where this is going. He arranges the last few letters into place and then reaches for the third box. He tears open the paper, carefully as usual, and opens the box.

Inside is a card, on which is printed the name of the fanciest restaurant in Perth, which Daniel has been wanting to try for months, but which he has lamented to Max several times is impossible to get reservations for.

Beneath the name of the restaurant is today’s date, the 24th, and a time, 7pm.

Beneath that, there’s a final line, which simply says “TURN AROUND.”

Daniel takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and then swivels in his chair.

Behind him, Max is leaned against the doorframe to his office.

“So?” he asks. “I asked a question, I think.”

Daniel looks back over the tiles, laid out neatly on his desk. He looks back at Max and grins helplessly. “Yeah, Maxy. I would love to.”

[lustlovehart]

For your followers requests, maybe a sketch of slime monster Azul with little details about him? He sounds so fascinating in your teaser list!

Congrats on the 700+ followers!

A/n: Azul’s a fav but my goodness I cannot draw him, in fact, I kind of hate the drawing (╥_╥). I’ve never done slime before so I blame it on that, and backgrounds, all my homies hate backgrounds. This was a lot quicker to do though, as I did have an Azul sketch made before this request so I just got back to doing that one. Drawing under the cut! Also in head canon format.

Pairing: Monster!Twst [ Slime Kraken! Azul x Reader ]

Warnings: Slight possessiveness towards the end, Azul struggles with insecurity, Three hearts are seen in the drawing

- Due to his insecurity about being a slime and all that, he formed some barrier made of shell to keep a stable form instead of melting into some disfigured blob.

- Before meeting you, Azul, Jade, and Floyd had no preference for their smaller, more humanoid forms, as they didn’t have any particular liking towards humans. To them, what was the point? They were essentially the top predators in the sea with the massive body they already inhabited. That changes when you come in, as now they have a real reason, if they’re in their real forms, how could they ever hold you, have fun in the water?

- It’s slightly different for Azul though, as not only can he become humanoid, but can become human as well (In appearance, each monstrous tendency he holds is still deep within him. He also can’t keep it up for very long, only 4 hours at max) He does this because well… you’re human. All the details he reads from human remnants, like books, or photos, shows romantic relationships can only be achieved within their species. So, he’ll become a mortal, for you.

- In the moments where you do catch him in his smaller form, he’ll attempt to hide from you, or come up with a swift suave excuse as to leave. There was one moment where he couldn’t avoid it… In a state of exhaustion he passed out, having not found any nutritional intake in the sea lately.

When he woke up, he’s ready to spring back into hunting mode, but the feeling of solid skin rather than hard rock makes him slowly turn his head up, your form looking down at him, his soft head laid in your lap. He’s practically stunned, you’re not ridiculing him for being made up of something so gross… Your fingers brush a strand of his hair back, watching as he slowly lifts himself up, a slimy residue left on your thighs.

There’s no way, you must be disgusted by now—

“You were on the floor. That’s not very common is it? That’s why you’re here, sleeping somewhere… better?”

It’s official, Azul will either follow you on land, or you’ll stay with him in the sea forever.

“Hm, perhaps it is better, maybe we should form an agreement that lets me sleep here, rather than the hard sea bottom?”

Thank you for the congratulations! I really was not expecting to have 700 so soon ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[draftdweller]

Cherry, baby

Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Unprotected P in V, Oral F receiving, plus sized reader.

You were on your way home from your late night Diner shift, the uniform looking straight out of the 50's, your cherry red lipstick providing a stark contrast to your facial features, the dark mass of hair tied back in a nice updo to keep it out of your face and make sure it's contained while you work. You loathed the pastel pink dress that you had to wear for your shift, but money is money. You were flat broke every month after bills and groceries, the economy was more than difficult to survive in. You blamed the cost of things on the damages every city endured from every spat that came from mutants fighting their own wars. You noticed the city you were in was compromised the most, New York. Every week a new part of the city was destroyed, every month a new price raise on things. You loathed it completely. Even being a mutant yourself, you stayed to yourself.

Your family had tried to ship you off to Charles Xavier's school for the gifted. You booked it out of there by first light of the next day. No one had even noticed you were gone. Who would, with your powers being nothing spectacular, just telekinesis and the ability to cloud your presence from others. It was useless in any of their battles, and useless in life unless you were using it to move the trays at your job when you were busy with other things.

When you got back to your tiny apartment, you sighed seeing the notice on your door, three days to evacuate the premises, two months late on rent due to hours being cut meaning you couldn't afford it any longer. luckily you had almost no possessions, and the next thing you knew, you were on your way back to the mansion of professor x.

You approached the door and gave a tentative knock, who knew if Charles would let you back into this place. But when the door opened, it wasn't Charles before you. No, it was a muscular man, broad shoulders, dark hair that came up to a point on either side of his head. He was gorgeous, and rugged. He had a cigar between his lips and eyeing you cautiously.

"Can I help you, bub?" A gruff tone left his lips as he spoke.

"Uh, Yes. I'm looking for Charles"

"Charles? How D'you know him?" Another glance in your direction as he took a drag from the cigar.

"He's an old friend."

"I see. Well, come in then" As he spoke he turned and stepped into the house.

You nodded and walked in, and suddenly all eyes on you, Storm drawing in a breath as she caught sight of you. She was one of the only ones who had noticed you had left back when you did. The look in her eyes was both hurt and shock, taking in the sight of you. She walked up to you, her hair significantly shorter than when you'd last seen her.

"Y/N? Where have you been? I thought you had died. Why are you back?" She cautiously held you at arm's length and looked you over

"Died? No, I was just fine. I was on my own as soon as I could be. No one knew where I was because I knew if you all could find me, you'd bring me right back here, and I don't think I ever belonged here, my gifts are useless to say the least. Could you take me to Charles please?"

Without another word, she led you to Xavier, who you spoke to about staying here. You were assured you would always have a place at the school, and so there it was. You were working on unloading what little things you had, when the man who answered the door was standing there in the doorway. Keeping his eyes on you, as you used your mind to move the items around where you wanted them.

"So. You've been here before then? What brought you back?" He spoke and as he did so, you could feel his eyes tracing over your curves. You took off your hoodie you were wearing and looked back at him. "I had nowhere to go anymore" Your reply was short, not unkind but definitely blunt

"I guess that makes sense. But why'd you leave in the first place?"

"Look. I'd rather not discuss this with someone I know nothing about." Your cherry red lips pursed as you finished your sentence, hoping that would be the end of it. You couldn't be more wrong.

"Yea, well bub, Good luck trying to know anything about me. I don't even know much about myself from before I got here. Just that my name is Logan, and I have adamantium bones, and claws"

Your eyes rolled and you looked at him unbelieving. Then you noticed the look on his face. Your brows crinkled up and you sat on the bed.

"You really don't remember?"

"Not really. When I try to look back, it's foggy. Like someone covered it with mist"

You were nodding along as he spoke, and couldn't help but feel bad for him.

"So then, what is your name?"

"Logan." That was all he said before he left the room. That in itself was weird.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You had adjusted to the mansion life, always buzzing during the day. Quiet at night, there seemed to still have the curfew to be in your rooms at. But tonight, you couldn't sleep. You cautiously made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a drink and snack, and going to the room where the TV was. You made sure that it was turned down low enough that it wouldn't disturb anyone, but high enough that you could still hear it. You were in the middle of a horror movie when there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. You felt your body launch ten feet in the air, knocking the snack and drink off the coffee table in front of you. You turned around to see Logan standing there, his hair messy, and him wearing sleep pants and a white tank.

"You do know, there's a curfew, correct?"

"Yes, I, Yes. I just couldn't sleep. I'm sorry" You were tripping over your words as you spoke, your eyes following the contours of his body.

"Yea, that's the understatement of the year for me. I don't sleep much either. You mind if I join you here then?"

"Go ahead, as long as you promise not to scare the shit out of me like that again." You were moving over to make room on the couch for him, and he sat, eyeing you with a smirk playing on his lips.

"What are you doing sitting so far? I don't bite." He motioned for you to sit closer to him, and nods at the TV "Poltergeist huh? that's a good one"

You nodded, and slid closer to him, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. "One of my favorites that still startles me here and there."

He chuckled and nods. "I suppose it still has some good jumps here and there. If you need to, you can hide in my shoulder"

Your own laugh left your lips, and you nodded keeping that in mind. Eventually you did wind up burying your face against his shoulder, feeling nothing but muscle. He wound up moving to wrap said arm around you, his hands stroking over your plush curves, fingers splaying against your bare midriff, and tracing circles against your skin. You felt your cheeks heat up as he did this and looked up at him. You couldn't form words, but you could feel a spark of energy between the two of you.

You leaned up, and pressed your lips against his, kissing him slowly. At first, he resisted, shocked by the bold move and then kissed back. The kiss increased in passion, until you pulled back looking at him sheepishly.

"I, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that."

"Don't apologize, I was just stunned at first, bub. I liked it."

You met his eyes, your own wide, just as he crashed his lips back into yours, kissing you hotly. You returned the kiss with the same urgency, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, a guttural groan leaving his lips as you tug gently, and his hands coming to rest on your hips, trying to pull you into his lap. You resisted with that move, mainly because you were self-conscious about your weight. You pulled back and looked at him "I, I can't" Your words were hushed, and he looked at you his brows knitting in confusion. "I'm heavier, I don't want to crush you"

"Bub, look. You wouldn't crush me, believe me. You may think you're too heavy, but I promise, I'm indestructible. I can handle you" As he spoke, his fingers came up to grip your chin gently. His words were sincere, and his touch gentle. He brought your lips back up to his, kissing you slowly. Instead of pulling you onto his lap this time, he pushed you back gently, causing you to lay back on the couch.

He pulled back from the kiss and moved his lips to the hollow of your throat, kissing and nipping gently, eliciting a gasp from you. He looked up at you from your throat and smirked "Oh, you liked that, did you?"

You didn't respond. You just nodded your head. In an instant, his lips were back on your throat, licking, nipping and sucking on it. Sure to leave marks on it. His hand was trailing up your thigh, and stopped at the junction between your thighs, stroking gently through your clothes. You moaned out and covered your mouth. He smirked and hushed you slightly. He moved up and hooked his thumb in your sleep shorts, pulling them down, revealing nothing underneath. He let out a ragged groan as he took in the sight of you. You glisten slightly in the lighting of the TV.

"Fuckin' beautiful" He murmured. His eyes had a look in them like a man starved and he met your gaze again. "If you want me to stop at any point bub, tell me. I will" "I want to keep going" Your words were a whisper, your hands covering your face slightly as he moved to place his head between your thighs.

He gazed up at you, and his fingers coming up to stroke along your folds. The little moan that left your lips encouraged him to keep going. His fingers slipped between your folds and caressed the sensitive bud above your entrance. Another gasp slipped from your lips, and he inhaled sharply, taking in your scent. His lips replaced where his fingers were, and they slipped down, teasing your entrance before pushing one digit in. You moan out loudly and arch your hips, his lips capturing the sensitive bud, sucking and nipping on it gently. "Logan, please. I need more" You mewled out as his pushed another finger into you. He smirked against you and sped up the motions of his fingers, continuously hitting the spongy area that had you most about to come undone. You felt yourself tighten around his fingers. "Come on bub, let go. Soak my fingers."

With his words, you let out a strangled cry, coming around his fingers and your hips buck slightly. He pulled back and looked up at you, bringing his fingers to his lips, and sucking them clean with an appreciative groan

"You taste so sweet, like cherries" His words caused your cheeks to heat up again and you look at him

"I, maybe we should go to my room, if you wanted to, I mean"

He smirked and nodded, pulling your shorts back up and lifting you effortlessly. He made his way to your room, and opened the door, bringing you into the room and shutting it with a kick. He made his way to your bed, laying you on it and kissing you once more. His knee separating your legs, and he nipped at your lip roughly. You could feel the bulge of him in his sleep pants pressing into you. Your hand came down to rub against it gently, causing him to let out a low growl "You sure you want to go there bub?"

"I've never been surer of anything, Logan" He nods and pulls back, peeling his shirt off his body, and then his sleep pants. Finally, he removed his boxers, and you gasped as he sprung free. He was thick, and long, with the tip red and leaking precum. He noticed the way you were looking at it and smirked slightly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you" You nodded slowly, and looked at him, carefully peeling off your crop top and sleep shorts. You made an effort to cover your body back up as his eyes danced hungrily over you, but he grabbed your hand gently. He looked you over and used his free hand to stroke your face gently "You are so beautiful. Don't hide it" You were speechless, most people didn't compliment you for your body. But he did, and his eyes devoured you. Before you knew it, his lips were back on yours. His hand moving down to line himself up with your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you, stopping after an inch to let you adjust, and your jaw was slack at the feeling of him. He was waiting for you to adjust. "Logan, please move" With your plea, he pushed further in, until he bottomed out, his balls against your ass and a groan leaving his lips at how tight you were around him. Slowly he began moving and growled at the first thrust. He couldn't take the slow pace, and began to speed up, the sound of skin slapping filled the room, along with the grunts and moans. Your hands were on his back, nails digging into the skin making him hiss. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your sweet spot. The feeling was washing over you again, and he was murmuring sweet things to you, encouraging you to let go again. You let go with a cry of his name, tightening almost painfully around him, and he thrust, the thrusts getting sloppier. As you came undone around him, he followed quickly. His hips stuttering as he shot his seed deep into you. He collapses on top of you, breathing hard, and looked up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "You did so good for me, Cherry baby" "Why do you call me that logan?" your eyes met his curiously

"Because when I first met you, and every day I see you. your lips are red as cherries"

You smiled and nodded, taking in what he said and agreed. A yawn slipped from your lips, and he pulled out gently, moving to lay by your side. You turned to face him, spent entirely from the sex and his hands rested on your hips. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep, and logan snuck from your room.

By the time you woke up, you had noticed the side of the bed he'd been on was cold, and empty. You couldn't help the disappointment you felt. You decided that last night was just another meaningless night.

A/n: I'm so sorry, this was my actual first attempt at writing smut. It's not very good, but I enjoyed it. Let me know if you did too!

[drabblesandimagines]

Lemon Tarts

Clive Rosfield x female (Branded) reader Fluff, 5,828 words

“Come on, out of there, eh? I know I have a scarred mug but I’m a nice fella under all that.” Gav – he’s introduced himself several times now – jokes with a half-hearted laugh.

He’s crouched down in front of the alcove where you’ve sequestered yourself, your body pressed right up in the corner, your head tucked in-between your knees to try and make yourself as small as possible.

Gav’s broad shoulders won’t permit him entry, his reach coming up short when he’d got down on his knees and put an arm in to catch your wrist to guide you back out – cursing himself under his breath when you’d flinched at his attempt.

Your master was harsh both in what he demanded in labour and how he treated you. However long ago, you’d decided it was better to not talk back and, eventually, not worth talking at all. It wasn’t like he’d bought you for your conversation skills - for what worth is there in anything a Branded has to say?

The days in his service were repetitive – just the faces around you would change as the curse wore away at their supposed worth. Two new Bearers had been acquired over a tenday ago, apparently tracked by a group of people calling themselves Cursebreakers when they broke into the barn where you all slept. They explained they were here to take all of you somewhere safe, to free you from your master, all whilst weapons hung from their hips.

They’d escorted you into a covered wagon in the early hours of the morning with a firm grip, before the three of you were transferred onto a skiff roped up at a small dock, tucked away off a beaten path. The boat set sail across the blighted waters of a lake, heading towards some sort of Fallen structure in the middle. From there, you were led up onto a dock and then into a goods lift, ascending up to a new fate. You had tried to keep your panic at bay on the wagon and skiff ride, swallowing down the anxiety that had churned in your stomach and threatened to come up your throat but the moment the lift reached the main deck, the fear of the unknown won and you ran without further thought.

You ran with an energy you didn’t know you still possessed, ducking around outstretched arms. You didn’t make it very far before your mind caught up with your legs - where could you even go now? You’re in the middle of a lake, you don’t know how to swim, you’re trapped.

Now that you’d ran from them, disobeyed their commands to stop, only punishment could follow. At least with your old master you knew what to expect for whatever he deemed as ill behaviour, despite your best attempts to fulfill his demands, and what to brace for when you failed.

The alcove had caught your eye – a gap between two wooden walls made of thick planks. You’d slipped in with more than a hope that you wouldn’t be spotted as you did, perhaps they’d think you’d jumped into the waters below and drowned.

Luck was not on your side – when had it ever been? - for as soon as you’d pressed yourself into the very back, a scarred face had appeared in the opening.

“You can’t stay in there forever.” Gav chides, stepping back to put his hands on his hips before his face falls. “Not that that’s a threat, like! I mean, it’s not… practical, is it? Especially when we’ve a lovely, warm bed with your name on it.”

Warm bed…?

It’s a trick.

Don’t be so stupid.

“Gav, what’s going on?” An almost amused voice draws the scout’s attention elsewhere and the man steps out of view, entering into a hushed conversation. You risk a look between your knees, seeing the railings and a bit of the sky beyond – dusk beginning to fall.

A few moments later, you hear the voice again – gravelly, but cautious and gentle. “Hello, my lady.”

The lack of sarcasm in their address of you – for who would call a Branded my lady –prompts you to peer between your knees. Another rather broad-shouldered man is knelt down on one knee - shaggy dark hair framing stormy blue eyes, clad in red and black leathers, the hilt of a great sword showing over his shoulder.

“My name’s Clive. Mayhaps I could have the pleasure of yours?”

“She doesn’t talk much.” Gav’s voice comes from over his shoulder, but Clive keeps his gaze on you. “Or ever - that’s what the others said anyway. They’re all pretty new to the bastard’s service, like. Said they didn’t know her name, and not sure how long she’d been with him.”

“That’s all right. You don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to, my lady. We just want to help, but we can’t help much whilst you’ve tucked yourself away here, can we?”

He waits for a few moments, testing the waters.

“We have a healer who can treat whatever ails you,” Clive presses on, tone still gentle and genuine. “And a very cosy bunk for you to rest in, where you won’t be disturbed. And food of course - I’ve heard there’s a delicious stew on the menu tonight. Molly - she’s our cook - has made some exquisite lemon tarts for afters. You can have mine, if you like.”

Your mouth salivates at the prospect of hot food. It had been a while since your stomach felt content - yesterday’s meal had consisted of vegetable peelings after a poor day of harvest, shared with the chocobos…

It’s all too good to be true.

“I know you must be frightened – to be taken from everything you’ve known for so long, but you have my word that we wish only to help you.” He places his fist over his heart, hoping it would prove his sincerity. “Though I understand we cannot be helping by hovering over you like this, so I will leave you be to think on it a while, my lady.”

Clive gets to his feet with a soft grunt and takes a few steps away back over to where Gav was stood, shaking his head in defeat.

Gav sighs, wearily. “S’pose I could ask Bartram to knock the planks out at the side so we can get her out that way?”

“No.” Clive’s tone is firm. “Definitely not. I could see her body trembling – she’s terrified.”

“We can hardly leave her in there.”

“She just needs time – we can give her that. It’s not ideal, but she’s at least safe. If her health turns, I’ll consider more drastic action but patience is best for now.”

“Maybe she’d be more comfortable speaking with someone who’s Branded?” Gav muses, scratching the back of his head.

“Good idea, Gav.” Clive claps his on the shoulder with a heavy arm. “I’ll ask Molly if she can pop by with some stew – food and a friendly, familiar face might work wonders."

--

You don’t emerge later though, despite Molly’s best efforts. She gives you a bright smile and soft, encouraging words – a tale of how she was rescued, proudly demonstrating the brand on her cheek, what she does now at the Hideaway, and then offering the bowl of stew in her hand.

The aroma makes your mouth water and stomach ache. Molly carefully places it at the threshold, not wanting to encroach on your personal space. Says she’ll leave it there, alongside a waterskin, before she bids you well and disappears from view.

If you shuffled forward a little, perhaps stretched out your arm as far as it would go, the bowl would be in reach to drag back to eat.

You don’t, though.

You won’t.

It’s a trick.

--

Clive had made himself scarce, hoping Molly's presence would be more calming than his own, and left her with instructions that if you were to emerge, or engage in conversation, perhaps she could coax you into going to the infirmary next.

He busied himself in search of the seamstress, eventually finding her in the bunks, sorting through piles of material stored away in a cupboard.

“Hortense, do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” She nods, turning to face him. “What can I do for you, Clive?” “I wondered if you had any spare blankets?”

“Oh, yes – I’m always working away on more as we grow our ranks!” Hortense beams, turning back to the cupboard. “I'm not surprised you asked – there must be quite the draft in those chambers of yours.”

“Ah, no - not for me. One of the rescued Bearers from today is a little shy, sequestered herself in an alcove in fright. I'm hoping she'll emerge before nightfall for food and to go to the infirmary, but I do not wish for her to catch a chill off the lake if she does not...”

“Oh, the poor mite!” Hortense frowns at the idea, but sets to thumbing through a pile of blankets in search of one in particular – a fleecy grey one in the end - and bundling it up in her arms before she hands it over to him. “Well, this one should keep her nice and cosy, it’s plenty thick enough. Tell me she is at least properly dressed, Clive.”

“The usual attire.” A polite way of saying the threadbare cloth shirts, trousers or dresses that Bearers were permitted by their masters, sans shoes as always. “I doubt she’ll accept any changes of clothing currently, but I am sure she’ll come round. We just need to be patient.”

“How could she not? Please, do let me know if there is anything else I can do.”

“This is plenty, I assure you.” He smiles, holding the blanket aloft in demonstration and leaves her to her work, heading the long way down to the Ale Hall to avoid the main deck. He spots Molly back in the kitchen behind the counter, looking forlorn.

“I’m sorry – I tried, I really did.” She scoops a generous portion of stew into a bowl and hands it off to an awaiting Bearer as she talks. “I told her my story and everything, but it’s almost like she’s frozen in place. I half-worried the curse had took her in front of my eyes. I left the stew - I hoped with some privacy she might eat without me there watching her.”

He places a large palm on her arm and give hers a sincere smile. “Thank you, Molly. I really appreciate you trying.”

“It’s nothing. Here”, she hands him the bowl of stew she’d just prepared. “Can’t forget yourself. And before you ask, yes, everyone else has been fed.”

Clive smiles, wryly, and takes the bowl with a grateful nod.

After he has had his fill, he heads out at the top of the steps, planning to keep his distance for a while longer up in the mess before an attempt to coax you out or gifting you the blanket. As his eyes cast over the alcove, he finds an unwelcome guest with their head and shoulders wedged firmly into the entrance.

“Torgal - away from there!” Clive snaps with a growl in his throat and the wolf hound instantly retreats to his master’s side with a whine and a tilt of his head, unsure as to what he's done.

He sighs, giving the beast a pat on the head. “I am sorry, boy, just... that bowl wasn’t for you – that was for our guest. I am afraid you may have scared her.”

Clive walks over and drops to a knee to peer within. His heart sinks to find your head tucked further between your knees than it had been previously, in addition to your body now trembling almost violently.

By the Founder, you must’ve thought he’d sent his beast to devour you.

“My lady, I am so very sorry that Torgal frightened you. He must’ve picked up the scent of the stew and followed it, mistaking it for his dinner. His sense of smell is unparalleled.”

Torgal barks as if in agreement, and you jump in place at the noise. Clive hushes the wolf with another pat on his head. “Sorry – he still acts like a puppy sometimes, but he is a very loyal friend of mine and he means you no harm. Allow me to fetch you something else to eat.”

He lays the bundled blanket down and pushes it forward, until it’s less than an arm’s length away from you.

“It gets a little cold on the deck in the evenings, my lady, but this should keep you warm until you feel comfortable enough to come inside. I’ll be back in a moment with some more food, and Torgal will keep away – I promise.”

He gets to his feet, picking up the bowl as he does and Torgal quickly follows behind at his heels as he heads back to the Ale Hall. Molly’s eyes widen in delight as he places the empty vessel on the counter, but Clive shakes his head.

“I’m afraid Torgal got to it first – licked it clean. Do we have any left?”

“Ah.” The cook’s face falls. “No, I’m afraid not – some of the Cursebreakers were feeling particularly hungry after their mission. But I do have bread, some cheese, apples and a lemon tart, though I had held that one back for you…”

“That all sounds wonderful. Please.”

Molly pulls out a cloth napkin from below the counter, placing the assortment of food together with a delicate hand. She ties the napkin in a knot to keep the bundle protected and hands it over.

“Thank you.” He looks down at the hound sat by his heels. “Torgal, why don’t you go and sit with Lady Charon?”

Torgal’s tail thumps against the wooden floorboards happily – Charon often has a bone waiting for him behind her counter in the evening.

“Good boy.”

Clive heads back towards the alcove with deliberate footsteps, wishing to announce his arrival. The blanket has not moved, still in the place where he left it. From what he can see in the evening light, your trembling has appeared to ease up from Torgal’s visit at least.

“I am afraid we have run out of stew, but Molly’s put together a selection of other things for you – including the lemon tart I mentioned earlier.” Clive places the bundle down carefully upon the blanket, before moving the waterskin besides it.

He waits a moment or two to see if you might lift your head before continuing, but it remains fixed in place.

“I think you might feel more at ease if you eat something, my lady, even if it’s just a little. I will leave you be and bid you a good night, with a sincere hope that you emerge anon.”

He gets back to his feet again, swallowing back down a sigh and, reluctantly, heads back into the warmth of the Ale Hall.

--

Clive finds himself restless later that night, tossing and turning before settling to stare up at the ceiling of his chambers. His mind is whirling with thoughts of what he needs to accomplish tomorrow, the missives he has yet to reply to, the Mothercrystals that still reside – though an opportune moment was still to present itself – the next lot of Cursebreakers who would be undertaking the removal of their Brands…

..and you, the scared Bearer, hiding in an alcove off the main deck.

He sits up with a huff and looks towards the balcony.

Fresh air – despite how drafty his chambers already are - will help, he thinks.

He gets out of bed, pulling on his earlier discarded trousers and boots to go with his night shirt and heads over to the balcony, stepping out into the cool night air.

The blighted lake waters are still and the moon casts a warm, white glow over the quiet deck. Clive takes a deep breath and then another, when something catches his eye down below - a lone figure heading across the boards on unsteady legs, towards the end of the dock.

You.

He turns on his heel and hurries out of his chambers, his footsteps echoing around the Ale Hall as he descends both sets of stairs two at a time. He pulls the lever back to call the lift back up and waits, impatiently, when he sees the blanket and bundle of food he’d left earlier, pushed aside in front of the alcove.

He grabs the bundle as the lift reaches the dock and hurries inside, slamming down the lever and descending below, praying that he’s not too late.

--

You were sure you hadn’t heard anyone for hours since the sun had dipped below the horizon and stars had slowly started to emerge in the cloudless sky. Cautiously, you’d pushed the blanket forward, only enough so that if someone was lying in wait for you to emerge they would pounce.

Nothing.

You wait another while before you inch it forward again, a pause, then a little more until the entire blanket is now out of the alcove. Your hands are shaking as you pop your head out, just slightly, but the deck appears empty. After waiting another few moments, you crawl over to the railings to peer below. The skiff you’d arrived on is docked up at the end of the pier – an escape route. Without much further thought, you pull yourself up on unsteady legs and walk into the goods lift, pulling down the lever to descend.

You find yourself at the end of the dock, frozen in fear. What were you thinking? You don’t know how to sail. You don’t know how to swim either, so that’s also out of the question. Even if you could, you surely wouldn’t have the strength to swim across an entire lake.

You flex stiff fingers experimentally. Maybe you could muster up enough aether to conjure some wind – would that be enough to sail the skiff? You wished you’d paid more attention on the journey over…

You’re getting ahead of yourself. Where would you even go? The brand inked on your cheek made it so you’d never have a normal life, you stand out immediately in any crowd. If an imperial soldier caught you on your own, you’d be thrown into the cells…

..or even worse.

Maybe… Maybe you could go back to your master? Your stomach swirls again with anxiety at the thought. There would be a punishment, surely, but if you came back that would count for something, wouldn’t it?

Your thoughts are interrupted by pounding footsteps, your heartbeat soon matching their pace as you turn to see your pursuer. It’s the broad-shouldered man from earlier – Clive – hurrying up the dock with a look you can’t identify on his face and a bundle of cloth in his hand.

You take a step back as he gets closer, hurriedly followed by another, then another. There’s an apology on your tongue but the world suddenly jerks when there is no longer anything to stand on. You’ve stepped too far, ran out of dock-

There is a gust of warm wind and an arm wraps around your waist, pressing you close into an even warmer chest. Underfoot, you feel the boards of the dock again - Clive has stopped you from falling into the depths. He guides you forward another half a dozen strides before dropping his arm once he’s sure you’re a safe distance away from the edge and then takes further steps back himself.

“I apologise for touching you without your consent, my lady, but I could not let you fall into the water. Are you all right?”

You don’t take in his words at all - your legs giving up as you drop down on the deck with a thump.

“I’m s-sorry.” Your words are soft, but Clive hears them in the stillness of the night. “Please – I’ll…” You swallow back a sob – crying never helped, would only make punishments worse. “I’m sorry. Please… don’t hurt me. I’ll obey. I will.”

“I will never hurt you, my lady, nor will I ever command your obedience. This is my vow.” Clive responds, equally as soft, as he kneels down to match your eye-level. “I just wish to see you safe and well.”

He sounds sincere, which is unsettling. You realise he doesn’t have his sword, nor the hound at his heels. He’s not even properly dressed - leather trousers and an unlaced white shirt, overall softening his appearance.

Clive takes advantage of your silence to press on.

“Will you join me in a midnight feast?” He places the bundle of cloth down before him, swiftly undoing the knot all whilst you stare, trying to guess the trick.

“I used to sneak into my younger brother’s chambers with things I’d swiped from the kitchen. He was often ill and prescribed a rather bland diet, so I hoped a midnight feast of more appetizing fare might cheer him up.”

He busies himself laying out the food on the patterned cloth, a little further away from him than could be comfortable having to stretch out so far. There’s a few bread rolls, apples, biscuits and something that smells tantalizingly sweet.

“This,” Clive points out a round pastry in the middle, some sort of glazed curd on the top, “is Molly’s fabled lemon tart. The best in Valisthea, I assure you. Please – help yourself.”

He leans back, propping himself up with his elbows, again trying to give you space, and forces his gaze to the sky. The moon illuminates the side of his face as you keep your eyes fixed on him, revealing a mark you hadn’t noticed earlier that day - an almost familiar one.

It’s torture having the food laid out in front of you, the second time that day. You don’t know if you feel sick from hunger or from nerves, but your resolve finally cracks.

You reach out with a shaking hand, waiting for Clive to strike.

He keeps focused on the skies above, his hands firmly planted behind him.

You pick up the roll.

Still, he does not move.

You take a tentative bite and chew, whilst Clive stares up at the stars.

Slowly, but surely, you finish the entire roll. Be grateful – your master’s voice rings around your head.

“T-thank you.”

Clive moves his gaze from the skies to yours, a warm smile on his face. “No, thank you, my lady. This is all I want for you – all we want for you – to be safe and well-fed.”

You dig your nails into your palms. “Why?”

“Because Bearers do not deserve to be treated how they are – we should be able to live and die on our own terms.”

“We?”

He nods, sitting up and turning his head to the side, pushing back his hair a little to reveal the scar on his cheek.

“I was Branded once. Tarja – she’s our healer – removed it, only so I could travel Storm safely and help others escape their fate. The Cursebreakers have all had their Brands removed as well for the same reason.”

“No, they said it can’t be removed – the ink contains poison.” You don’t know where this tone of defiance has emerged from, but there is no flash of anger across Clive’s brow.

“It is risky to remove, yes, but not impossible. And we will not ask you to undertake such a risk – that would be your choice.” He adds, quickly, worried you may take it the wrong way.

“You remember Molly, who brought you the stew?” You nod. “There are many others like her who have chosen to keep their Brand, but it does not dictate their lives in the Hideaway. And until you can live the life you deserve to, one where that mark on your cheek will not make it unsafe for you to do so, I sincerely hope you will find a home here.”

“A home?”

“Mm. Safe, fed, and never need to use aether again, my…” He pauses in realization. “My apologies - may I request the pleasure of your name?”

You shake your head, feeling foolish. “It’s silly, but I… I don’t remember it. Such a simple thing to have forgotten, but master didn’t use it.”

Of course the bastard didn’t - Clive feels a frown forming, but restrains himself. “I am sure it will come back to you with time.”

His eyes fall upon the pastry in the following silence, wishing to change the subject and he picks it up, placing it on the flat on his palm and offering it out to you. “Please – have some more to eat.”

Clive has a shy smile on his lips, a genuine and sincere look in his eye. It is the kindest look someone has given you in all the time you can remember and with that, your fingers brush across his open palm as you take the offered treat.

It is small – only two bites – but it is the most wonderful thing you have ever tasted. The pastry is crisp, thin and sweet, whilst the lemon curd is tart, the flavours dancing over your tongue.

It makes you want to cry at such a simple pleasure that has been denied to you for so very long.

The moment of euphoria is interrupted as a particularly cold wind gusts across the lake and causes you to shiver, unconsciously pulling your limbs closer to your body to try and preserve heat.

“Thank you for trusting me, my lady. I cannot imagine how frightening and worrying it must be – I truly admire your bravery. May I be as bold to request you trust me once more this night?”

You nod – the tiniest jerk of your head down – but it’s a nod all the same.

“Would you allow me to escort you to the infirmary? It has warm and comfortable beds where you can rest - properly.”

The question makes your stomach squirm with anxiety – the food sitting too heavy now in your stomach, but one look into Clive’s eyes almost settles it entirely once more.

“And in the morning, if you feel up to it,” he clarifies, “our healer would like to give you a check-up, but you do not have to make a decision on that right now.”

“A-all right.”

“Wonderful.” He keeps his tone measured, quickly wrapping up the food in the cloth and securing the top with a knot before he gets to his feet and steps back as you get to yours. He gestures forward a moment, quickly second-guessing his actions with a frown.

“Mayhaps you would be more comfortable following me?”

A small nod again.

You can’t be backstabbed if you’re facing his back, after all.

“Of course. Follow me, please, my lady.” He bows ever so slightly, before turning and heading back up and along the dock.

Clive’s heart is pounding as he walks away, worried that you may take his retreat as a chance to take the skiff and sail away or plunge yourself into the lake, but he dare not look over his shoulder in fear of frightening you.

Instead, he strains to hear any footsteps bar his own.

It is only when he reaches the goods lift that he catches sight of you in his peripheral vision that he releases a breath. He’s sure to stand in the furthest corner besides the lever, only taking one look over his shoulder to confirm you were safely within the confines of the lift before he pulls down on the mechanism.

He walks along the main deck, up the stairs to the mess, past the long tables and the hunt board before he pauses at the bottom of the next set of stairs. “It’s just up here and to the left.”

He opens the door to the infirmary with measured strength – aware the other Bearers will be resting within. The first two beds are occupied by faces you recognize – the two you’d been rescued with – and there is a man sat by a desk. Clive nods to him in acknowledgement and heads towards the other side of the room, sectioned off by a large bit of fabric. Both cots back there are empty, so he walks over to the one closest to the window and pulls the blanket down, then stepping back to the other side of the room and gesturing you forward.

“Here.”

You hesitate. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The stranger the other side of the curtain has unsettled you. It had been easy to forget about everyone else for a moment when it had just been Clive and you on the dock, but now you are inside… Who else would come when dawn broke?

Clive picks up on your hesitation, noting the way your eyes flit between the window and beyond the curtain, annoyed with himself he did not warn you of Rodiguez being on duty that night.

“If it would be all right with you, my lady, I would like to stay in order to make introductions in the morning with Tarja. But I will only do so if you are comfortable with me – I will set up a chair over there.” He points back the way you came, to the gap between the fabric and the wall.

“P-please.”

“Of course.” He nods, picking up a chair immediately from the side and moving it to where he had said. It is only then that you sit cautiously on the edge of the bed, slowly lifting your legs up and tugging the blanket up to your chin.

Clive settles himself on the chair – he has slept in far worse places, after all – and it is not long at all until sleep claims you.

--

Months pass. At first, your circle remains small – Clive and Molly at first, followed by Jill before you slowly begin to open up to those among the Hideaway. You will never forget the smile on Clive’s face when he introduced you to Torgal properly – the hound immediately rolling on his back, titling his head at you inquisitively as his master explained he wished for you to rub his fluffy belly.

You are still easily startled by loud noises, unexpected movement or when Gav swears out of excitement, never the loudest in conversation, but everyone is so very welcoming.

There is plenty to do, but there is no expectation of you to contribute unless you want to, especially as some among the ranks are too stiff from the curse. Jill and Hortense teach you how to sew, you spend a few days in the Backyard learning about the plants, Charon teaches you how to take a stock inventory, Gav tries to teach you how to drink a pint in record speed and, of course, Molly teaches you how to bake.

You are always first to greet new Bearers with a soft word and kind smile, telling them how scared you were, how you hid in the alcove on the deck…

Clive is often busy whilst in or out the Hideaway, but he always makes time for you, seeking out your company immediately after he has given Otto the latest, wanting to know what you’ve been up to before he’ll even speak of himself. He even picks up little trinkets that he thinks will make you smile – lined up on your windowsill in your bunk.

You knock gently on Clive’s chambers – his call for you to enter soon following. You hold the basket behind your back, a piece of cloth tucked over delicately over the contents within as you slide open the door. He is sat behind the writing desk, looking over a pile of missives, dressed in his usual leathers.

He raises his head and offers you the warmest smile, getting to his feet immediately in polite greeting. Seeing you always seemed to brighten his day – there was something about your smile that revitalized his spirits, a reminder of how far you’d come since that first day.

“My lady.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work.” You say, softly, sliding the door closed behind you.

“You are never an interruption. Please, sit.” He gestures towards the bench opposite his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Before I sit, I have some gifts.”           

“Gifts?”

“Mm. For you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have.”

You place the basket gently down on his desk, ignoring his comment. He pulls back the cloth to reveal a pile of six lemon tarts nestled within.

“Did you make these?”

“I did.” You nod, proudly. “Molly supervised, so they should be edible, at least.”

“They’ll be more than edible, I assure you.” He picks one up and bites into it, humming happily as he chews, the pastry melting on his tongue. “They are exquisite – truly.”

“Really?”

He feigns a pout at your question. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You shake your head with a shy smile.

“Then I would hardly start now.” He takes hold of you hand for a moment and squeezes. “Thank you.”

You bite your lip before continuing. “There’s… something else.”

“I am hardly deserving of this gift, my lady, let alone more-”

You interrupt him with a name – your name.

His eyes widen for a moment before he murmurs it back to you – sounding all the more wonderful on his tongue - and you nod, excitedly. You’d been reluctant to choose a new name, despite some suggestions. The inhabitants of the Hideaway had instead picked up on Clive’s term of address instead.

“I remembered, like you said.” You wring your fingers together. “Well, in a way. Tomes was reading a story to the children and there it was, after all this time.”

“It is a beautiful name – I am honoured to learn it.” He takes your hand with a bow, pressing a kiss against your knuckles and saying it once again.

When he releases your hand, you press a quick kiss against his stubbled, scarred cheek. “Thank you.”

Clive’s cheeks redden at your kiss, seemingly speechless for a moment. He smiles, almost bashfully, as he looks down at you with an unfamiliar look in his eyes.

“May I give you something in return?”

“Clive,” you look down as you protest, feeling your own face warm under his gaze, “you’ve already given me plenty. You-” He inadvertently cuts you off as he tilts your chin up with two gentle fingers, determined to meet your gaze.

“You do not understand, my darling. I would love to give you so much more, if only you’d permit me.”

“Oh…”

Clive moves his hand to caress your Branded cheek with calloused fingers – worn from his time of handling his blade – but his touch has never felt so soft.

“May I?”

You nod.

Clive presses a kiss to your lips - gentle, chaste and far sweeter than any lemon tart.

--

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

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[ikilledmyhamster]

Okay listen, what I love about BTD kid au is that Strade, rire, & sano were friends ever since childhood. I mean it's adorable if you actually think about it 😂

I do have a headcannon story that I would like to tell you all so feel free to read this!

I still don't know how the three met, it's kind of like that one trio where they don't even know how they met each other in the first place so let's just go with that. But I'd figured it would go something like this.

Story: Strade was an only child and had no friends due to his behavior. He met sano when he was around probably 6-7 who was stuck in a pond with ropes around his tail (Sano). Strade upon seeing a young boy with a snake tail, was curious and decided to help him...but the two ended up in the rope and it took 2 hours for them to get themselves free. Strade and sano became friends after that and strade didn't even bother asking about why sano had a tail.

The next part is where the two met rire which is kind of in a weird way. Strade got home from his kindergarten and decided to play with sano as the two were close, sano has an idea to summon a demon, which wasn't normal for a child to say that but hey, he's a naga demon so what do you expect? Anyway, they summoned a demon and you might be asking how and why they did it. Well one; They were pretty dumb kids and also just curious, two; Sano found rire's 'symbol' online for odd reasons and decided to try it. They successfully summoned kid rire but...they interrupted his tea time which made the demon prince angry (Btw he's a prince because his family is still alive, so he ain't the demon king yet). After a full on rampage that goes on for about a few hours, they were able to come into an agreement to become friends.

Childhood Moments: Strade, Rire, & Sano would build their own treehouse in their old neighborhood where they used to live, and they would make the treehouse pretty big. Of course the three had their own rooms and storage for their own stuff, by this time strade had an old camcorder, so he used it to create videos and/or memories of their childhood.

The three would go on adventures and weird places or even terrifying ones. Strades parents never really paid any attention to him so they didn't care if he left the house. Strade likes to draw or doodle in his free time, so he draws a lot of art of him, rire and sano. Sano and strade likes to pull pranks on rire. For example one time, they did a water bucket challenge but instead of it being normal cold water, it was holy water which burned poor kid rire skin. Of course he was not happy, but don't worry...he got his revenge.

Another childhood memory is that the three would occasionally watch horror films like slasher films. Especially paranormal activity, every time there is a demon or spirit that is possessing a person, sano and strade were pretty much scared while rire happily watches the scene. BUTTTT, when it comes to the exorcist scenes...Rire would immediately hold his friends with his tentacles while hiding behind them😂😂 (inspo from the photo above)

Another time, sano and strade did a research and they read that in old Russian ancient times, there used to be a saying that brownies could scare off evil spirits or demons. And so...they tried it on rire, the results did not disappoint them. The moment they bought a brownie cake and placed it on the table in front of rire...the poor boy disappeared. Which confused the two at first, but then they realized it actually works! Rire would stay in hell until he knows for sure, that the brownies were gone.

Treehouse: The treehouse that they built in the forest is still there standing stable till this day, and that treehouse holds a lot of childhood memory. Strade Sano & Rire would often sleep in that treehouse as their comfort zone and also since it's the place they mostly hang out in. They carved their names on the treehouse door, something like this; "LR+SK+S" Which obviously means in order; "Lucien Rire+Sano Kojima+Strade". Of course soon strade had to move out of his old town and so did sano and rire. They left their old treehouse but kept their stuff there.

Present: Whenever Y/N is free they sometimes go to the Kojima brothers house just to hangout or sleep over. One day they stumbled upon an old photo of the main trio. Rire in the center, strade on his left side and sano on his right side. The photo looked like it was taken a few years back and Y/N was able to open the frame and found a note attached to the back of the photo which had coordinates, which if your guessing correctly; Leads to their old treehouse. Akira & Y/N visited that place and found the treehouse with all of their stuff still there in the same places where they left it. And if they went all the way to the back, they would find a wooden box container which is filled with many cassette tapes and writing of dates. Strade would record those childhood videos and put them on cassette tapes so there was a lot of them. Of course, Y/N & Akira ended up watching some of the videos in the end and didn't bother telling sano, strade, or rire.

Anyway that's pretty much my version of the BTD main trio kid AU. Let me now which one should I do next down below here ⬇️⬇️⬇️

(Btw, credits to the art above belongs to @darqx)

[avonne-writes]

would love to see nr. 18 nr. 22 and 37 from the prompt list together!! «truth or dare» with «secret relationship» where their relationship get exposed bc john gets dared to kiss someone else, and gale is possessive

After such a long wait, I finally had a chance to write this. Thank you for the prompt! 🩷 Teenage awkwardness ahead, from an outsider POV.

Truth or dare - HS AU, beginning of Year 10

Why is it that the jocks at Olivia's school throw the lamest parties ever? Her older sister always used to brag about how much fun she had at these things back in the day - two years ago - but Olivia's just bored. Like, it's an absolute snoozefest. Putting on makeup for this wasn’t worth it. Not to mention the two hours she spent straightening her hair and looking for a top that complemented her green eyes. With the shit music they're playing, the whole thing was just a waste of time.

They’re all sitting around in a cramped living room that smells like her brother's socks and the P.E. locker room, and most of the boys are not even cute at all. They all have such bony arms, ugh. Olivia is attracted to real men, older boys. At least two years older. That's where she draws the line. The guys in her year are way too immature for her attention.

Okay, fine, if she really had to choose, Gale Cleven isn’t half bad. He’s kinda fit, more muscular than these soccer boys who can’t stop talking about Messi or whatshisname. He’s got beautiful blue eyes. A piercing stare. Zapphire orbs that glitter with interest when they meet Olivia's… She sighs, taking a sip of her soda and taking a furtive look at Gale where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor across from her. She likes boys with an actual personality. Gale has shoulder-length blond hair, which is pretty unique, but he’s a bit too quiet. What if he's boring too?

Plus, dating Gale would come with the unfortunate side effect of having to spend time with Bucky. Olivia had a crush on him last year, but it faded after a while, and she hates him now. She doesn’t get why he's so popular when he's just a stupid player. He flirts but never actually asks you out. Her past self was dumb for falling for his bright smile and loud personality.

Maybe, going for someone quiet is just what she needs. No, not quiet - mysterious. Yes, that's a better word to describe Gale. He’s smart and sweet and fit, and he wears neat clothes, not just plain, wrinkled t-shirts like Bucky. He takes care of himself. And he doesn’t have acne either. She bets he smells nice. Probably like - like cedar and sandalwood and an earthy, musky scent that she would still smell on her clothes hours after kissing him…

Suddenly, Gale's gaze flickers over to her, so she looks down for a second. Heat rises to her cheeks. But, she read somewhere that if you can keep eye contact with a guy for at least 5 seconds, they will begin to like you, and if it goes up to 10 seconds, they fall in love with you. It sounded like a good method, so she has decided to go for it every chance she gets. Telling herself that she's a bold and pretty girl, she looks up and finds Gale's eyes again. One, two, three - Ah!

It was so close! But Bucky had to choose that moment to tug at a lock of Gale's hair. Can’t he just leave Gale alone? Why does he need everyone’s attention all the time?

Disappointed, Olivia turns back to her conversation with her friends, but she makes sure to glance at Gale every now and then, to give that eye contact another chance. For the most part, Gale doesn’t return her gaze, but she can understand why - Bucky's constantly talking to him, his pale face flushed, sweat on his neck and a permanent smile in his eyes. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so annoying. Like, obsessed much?

She wonders how those two get along so well. Gale is a sensitive boy, a romantic soul, she can tell, and Bucky's all about video games and whatnot. And the way he's sitting is so irritating too, can’t he close his legs? His thigh is brushing Gale's knee. It’s clearly making Gale uncomfortable, because he fidgets and bounces his leg a little. Trying to make Bucky catch on that he’s way too close, no doubt. He gives Bucky an awkward smile, looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and instead of realizing how overbearing he is, Bucky just hands Gale his own drink. As if he expects him to hold it for him or something. Ridiculous.

“Dave!” One of the soccer boys yells at their host over the thumping beat.

“What?”

“I'm fucking bored, man!”

“Go fuck off then!”

The boys flip each other off, and some of the others laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they've ever seen, even though this happens every single day at school. Olivia rolls her eyes. Is it some weird male ritual to insult each other over literally nothing while the others laugh like a pack of demented hyenas? This is why she has given up on these dumbasses.

Sweet Gale would never act like this. He’s a gentleman. The kind of man who'd give his lady a thousand red roses on Valentine's before telling her he loves her. Olivia can feel this in her heart.

When she looks at him again, she sees him pull his knees up and rest his elbows on them, then his head on his folded arms, looking at Bucky. With his usual clueless grin, Bucky says something to him that Olivia doesn’t catch, then he bends one of his knees to bump it into Gale's.

Oh my God, Olivia thinks, this boy really can’t take a hint.

She has suspected for a while that Bucky is socially impaired, not in the introverted weirdo way but like, he’s too much and he doesn’t realize it. How his friends put up with it, she has no idea. But it's clear that Gale is pulling back now, because he pushes Bucky's knee away, and when Bucky grabs his wrist in retaliation, he starts scuffling with him with one hand.

“O-kay, who wants to play spin the bottle?” Dave calls out. A mix of cheers and boos follow.

Excited, Olivia perks up. Gosh, this would be the perfect opportunity!

Her mind speedruns a daydream for her. She imagines Gale spinning the bottle, biting his plump lip nervously as he waits for it to slow down. When it rolls to a stop pointing at Olivia, he’d relax though. He might have been hoping for this, for a chance to get closer to her. He might even give her a shy smile. As everyone watches, he’d take her face in his gentle hands, wait for her to nod to make sure it's okay, and then he'd lean in ever so slowly and press a tender kiss to her lips. He’d pull back an inch after a second, but he wouldn’t be able to let her go just yet - he’d close the distance again, not able to hide his passion any longer.

Pleasepleaseplease, she chants like a mantra, curling her legs under herself to sit as attractively as one can on an ugly IKEA rug, leaning against a couch. Her best friend shares a look with her and giggles as Benny DeMarco chugs down half a bottle of Fanta just to have something they can use to spin. That one's going to be an alcoholist, Olivia has no doubt. And he doesn’t even have blue eyes. Not her type.

As Dave lowers the volume of his trash music - finally! - some of the other girls start protesting the game choice. Olivia narrows her eyes at them. She doesn’t mind giving a quick peck to a couple of clumsy fuckboys if she gets to kiss Gale in the end. But if these girls ruin this for her -

“Fine! Fine, Jesus.” Dave raises his hands in surrender, and the girls stop whining. “How about truth or dare then?”

That seems good enough for everyone. Spin the bottle would have given Olivia a bigger chance at getting to kiss Gale, but whatever, truth or dare isn’t so bad either, and some of the questions might be funny at least. Again, she tries to catch Gale's eyes, running a hand through her long brown hair, but he’s looking at the floor and smiling at whatever Bucky's whispering in his ear. After a moment, he laughs and tells Bucky to shut up.

Glaring at Bucky, Olivia wills him to listen this time.

The game is pretty tame at first. A few people are asked if they have a crush on anybody, Dave is dared to show them his underwear, which is something Olivia will have to scourge from her mind, then her best friend has to tell them her most embarrassing memory. It’s quite funny. As they get more into the game, the questions start getting better too, until finally, the bottle lands on Gale. Olivia can feel her cheeks burn with excitement. Predictably, he chooses truth first - but that’s okay, because he, too, is asked the usual question:

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Some of their classmates groan, and Dave throws a handful of chips at the person who asked this lame question again, so the boy adds, “In this room?”

Olivia holds her breath. She tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter if Gale says no, it’s not like he’s the only guy in the world, but her heart still races as Gale's lips twitch into an unreadable smile. So sexy and mysterious!

“Yeah, I do.”

A few whoops and laughter follow, and Bucky, obnoxious as ever, whistles. Something about that makes Gale laugh. The way his nose crinkles is the most adorable thing Olivia has ever seen. Suddenly, she wonders if the knowing looks Gale shares with Curt and DeMarco are a sign that the boys know who the lucky girl is. It has to be a sign. She tries to see if any of them look at a particular girl, and she flushes when DeMarco's eyes land on her. She tries to read his gaze for long seconds, but when he smiles, she glances away, embarrassed. If it’s her, she'll know soon enough!

They play a few more rounds without anything interesting happening. When it’s her turn at last, Olivia chooses dare, but her task is to drink a sip from a disgusting concoction they mix for her using ketchup and soda. The smell alone is enough to make her gag, but she pinches her nose shut and does it. It's absolutely vile, and she hates how it lingers in her mouth.

Washing it down with water doesn’t help much either. She's on the brink of getting upset about it, when, like a literal knight in shining armor, Gale reaches across the space between them and offers her a bubblegum.

“Oh.” Olivia blushes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she looks at Gale’s kind expression. When she reaches out, her fingers brush Gale's. “Thank you, Gale.”

Even saying his name makes her heart flutter. And then the way he smiles at her in return!

As she pops the gum in her mouth, he also puts one in his, and at that moment, she feels a synchronicity she has never felt before. It’s an incredible feeling to be so attuned to someone that without talking or practicing, you just mirror each other instinctually. It can't be a coincidence. Even if he's not doing it on purpose, Gale is connected to her, she can tell.

Gosh, what if it really happens tonight? Most of her previous crushes ended in disappointment - khm, Bucky - but this time, she has much higher hopes. She knows her senses are getting better, that she can pick up on all the signs easier. Tonight might just be the night.

She feels giddy from this thought, right until it’s Bucky's turn to play.

“Truth or dare?” Curt asks him with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Bucky's trademark cocky grin makes an appearance. “Gimme your worst, Biddick. Dare.”

Curt’s smile widens. “Take Buck's bubblegum out of his mouth and put it in yours without using your hands.”

“Ewww!” Most of the room alternates between gagging, laughing and looking at Curt in awe for coming up with such a disgusting task. Even with her small crush on Gale, Olivia wouldn’t do it, it’s too much. Although… Actually, if it got her a kiss, maybe she would.

As she goes through this thought process, she comes to the horrifying realization that Bucky would have to kiss Gale to complete the dare. She blanches. It wouldn’t mean anything, of course, but poor Gale, this isn’t even his dare.

One of the girls takes out her phone and starts recording. Bucky just winks at her like he’s not fazed at all by the dare. He’s such a fuckboy, honestly. Olivia hates how that behaviour still makes something in her belly stir. She watches with her eyebrows trying to disappear under her bangs as Bucky leans into Gale's space, looks at his lips, then bats his eyelashes at him in an over-the-top gesture. Gale just looks amused.

“Can you please give me your gum, Buck?”

“Hey!” Curt tries to interrupt through a surprised laugh.

“You didn't say I couldn’t use his hands.” Bucky shrugs, still grinning, and opens his mouth. His tongue sticks out.

To Olivia's astonishment, Gale doesn't protest. He snickers, then reaches a hand up to his lips. In front of their disgusted eyes, he takes the chewed-up gum out of his mouth and puts it in Bucky's.

“Fuck, that's disgusting.” Dave chortles gleefully as Bucky leans back on his hands, chewing away with a smug expression on his face. The rest of the room gags, cringes and laughs until Bucky spins the bottle, then they move on to the next round.

Olivia watches Gale's face for discomfort, but he seems to have found the dare funny. He shakes his head at Bucky fondly. When his eyes find Olivia's, he gives her a sheepish smile. It makes the butterflies in her stomach go crazy with exhilaration. She grins back.

Although it started out as a total flop, the night feels like a dream now. And in dreams… well, anything can happen, right?

The game picks up after that. The dares get more challenging, the questions juicier, and even though Olivia doesn’t get the kind of opportunities she's waiting for, she finds herself having fun. Being as attentive as he is, Gale always watches the person whose turn it is, not Olivia, but she finds that endearing. She wishes he'd catch her eyes more often, but it's okay, quiet boys usually struggle with eye contact. Except for DeMarco, apparently, because anytime she glances his way, he’s looking back. She wonders if he's just zoned out or something or if there’s something else there. He’s not that ugly, if she thinks about it…

Another ripple of laughter pulls her out of her thoughts. The bottle lands on Bucky again, and he says dare before Dave has even finished asking the question.

At Bucky’s response, Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Kiss the hottest girl in this room on the lips.”

It's simple enough. And surely, for someone like Bucky who - according to the gossip Olivia heard - can’t go without a girlfriend for more than a month, this can’t be too hard to complete. A part of her aches in the hope that it's her. Not that she wants Bucky Egan, dumb jock extraordinaire, to kiss her. It’s just nice to be kissed, that's all. And it would be flattering if he chose her as the hottest. Better yet, it might make Gale jealous.

Oh Gosh, wouldn’t that be perfect? What if Bucky started leaning in and Gale pulled him away at the last moment just to lean in himself and claim the prize? Everyone would be so shocked!

Widening her eyes innocently, Olivia watches Bucky's face for a sign. She ignores the wave of feelings that take her back to last year when she had that ill-advised crush on him. She waits for him to notice her, but he seems unable to look away from Gale’s eyes. This time, they aren't smiling. Something serious flickers between them. Bucky's eyebrows draw together in a way that makes him look like a puppy with gangly legs and arms. To Olivia, Gale's expression is unreadable, but when Gale’s lips purse, Bucky turns back to Dave.

“Sorry, man, gotta forfeit.”

“Aww, what, you getting stage fright?” Dave laughs at his own lame joke. “I was going easy on you!”

“Dude, you were just not inclusive enough.” One of the other boys pipes up. “Should’ve said hottest person.”

“Oh, right. You just want to kiss me, huh, Egan?” Dave makes an annoying kissy noise.

Bucky grins again, his previous discomfort gone. “In your dreams, Davey-boy.”

“You bet.” Dave snorts, then gestures at the circle of them sitting around. “Okay, I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Again, Bucky hesitates. It's confusing. Olivia doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s as if she's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, something she should have noticed already but ended up overlooking. She's still trying to make sense of it when her night comes crashing down around her like a sudden storm that leaves you shivering and cold to the bone.

Bucky reaches up with a loving but sure hand, cups Gale's cheek and pulls him into a kiss like it’s something he has done before.

Their lips meet and part with a soft, damp sound that feels loud in the sudden silence that descends on their group.

It might as well be the sound of Olivia's heart being torn apart. A deep ache blooms in her chest where her joy was planted earlier tonight. Her mind refuses to accept what she's seeing. It’s not a first kiss. It’s sure as hell not a kiss forced on two boys by a dare, it’s not a prank taken a step too far. They've done this before. A dozen, a hundred, or a thousand times. They know which way to turn their heads to make it comfortable, how to tilt their chin for the sweetest contact, how to stroke the other's hair to earn a smile.

They know how to kiss each other and they enjoy it.

With a small smile, Gale draws back an inch, but Bucky doesn’t let him go too far - he pushes forward to chase Gale's lips. Right in front of them all, Gale returns this by opening his mouth, and Bucky takes the chance to lick inside and kiss the taste of bubblegum on Gale’s tongue as if he forgot they had an audience to watch it all.

A cacophony erupts around them, everyone talking over each other in excitement and confusion.

Please tell me this was just a dare, Olivia's breath hitches in pain. Shocked into silence, she starts fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Only parts of reality seem to reach her consciousness - the words boyfriend and 8 months, and the sight of Gale's hand in Bucky's, thumb stroking back and forth. How? When did this happen? Why didn’t she notice it all this time? It's so pathetic that she wants to laugh at herself. She managed to develop crushes on two boys who were secretly dating each other.

Universe, is this supposed to be a sign?

Oh, how it hurts that she's always the one who turns out to be delusional.

As she mopes there quietly, watching the sweet smile on Gale’s face, the sudden warmth of a shoulder pressing to hers draws her attention away. When she turns to look up, her green eyes meet brown.

“You okay?” DeMarco asks. The concern in his gentle voice sounds like a balm to her broken heart.

She takes a deep breath and musters a smile. He feels warm and solid, someone you can rely on.

Well. Maybe Benny DeMarco isn’t such a bad option after all. Bucky and Gale can have each other, Olivia's probably better off like this anyway.

The next party can only be luckier than this, she's sure.

[sunset-snowfall]

"Beg for It"

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Choso Kamo x gn Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Sub JJK men, edging, overstimulation, Toji being an asshole (not that bad)

Minors DNI!

Gojo Satoru

He always talks a big game about how he'll be the one fucking you senseless and making you scream It became pretty obvious that he was just a dumb whore for you to use But you didn't think he's be that pathetic! He always has a habit of cumming too quickly before you're able to, so you tried to think of a way to stop that from happening

One second, you had both been side by side on the couch, watching a show on the TV with very little interest on what was happening on the screen. The next, Gojo was gripping your hand, moving to the zip of his trousers like a man possessed. And being completely unable to resist those shining blue eyes, you had just sighed in defeat.

"Ngh, y/n, please!" You couldn't help but wonder exactly how you got yourself into the situation you were in, Gojo Satoru sitting on your lap, back against your chest, guiding his hand up and down on his pretty cock, the tip already leaking precum.

"You really think that's enough to convince me, hm?" You asked with a chuckle, the pace on his cock merciless as you forced him to jerk himself off, never letting off, even when he was whining about the pain in his wrist.

The only time you did stop was when his hips started to stutter and his mouth fell open, pulling his hand away swiftly as soon as he was about to cum. That had happened three times now and the poor thing was close to sobbing, all energy in his body completely gone as he rested against you, head turned slightly so you could see his pretty face flushed red, blue eyes glistening with tears, clinging to his eyelashes.

When you pulled him away for the fourth time, Gojo did actually start to cry pathetically, hips bucking up into nothing as he tried to bring his hand back to his aching cock, burning with the need for release. He turned to look at you the best he could, a pathetic sight, just for you.

"C'mon, Satoru... you know what I told you... if you want to cum that badly, you need to beg for it..." You cooed, moving your hand back to his cock, stroking it gently with a smile, kissing his neck, sucking and biting the pale skin gently.

The feeling of your skin against his flushed cock caused him to gasp and moan loudly, head dropping back against your shoulder. "Please, y/n, please! l've been such a good boy! Please let me cum! I need to!" His voice sounded so pretty as he cried for you, soft moans leaving his parted lips, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of it all.

And as much as you would love to torture him more, you knew that it was quickly becoming too much for him, so you rubbed his thigh gently, whispering a soft "Such a good boy... Go ahead and cum for me..." And his grateful sobs were just so adorable as he was finally able to get the release he needed.

Geto Suguru

This man did not want to beg you for anything In his eyes, his power was far more superior to you and he owed you nothing, so he didn't have to ask to fuck you! But after you refusing for what felt like hours, he had no choice That doesn't mean he still did everything in his power to resist

"Like fuck l'm gonna beg for you! Get another slave!" Geto had been like this for some time, refusing to even look at you, eyebrows drawn into a frown, making his purple eyes seem even darker. If it wasn't for the tent forming in his trousers, you almost would have believed that he wasn't interested in you.

But of course you had noticed, and that was why you had shamelessly stripped in front of him, your whole body on show for him. However, Geto was stubborn and had simply turned away, but you could have sworn thatyou saw his cute dick twitch when he saw your perfect body.

"Come on, Suguru... I know you want this just as much as I do... I can see your boner, idiot." You shook your head with a laugh as you pointed, lips drawing up into a smile when you saw his hands immediately rush to cover it up, face red with humiliation. How fucking adorable.

Geto looked away with a red face, glaring off to the side. "Stupid whore, you really don't understand who you're talking to, do you?" He growled, eyes almost blazing with anger. In fact, if he wasn't hard right now, and if his face wasn't flushed with embarrassment like a schoolgirl, you may have been intimidated by his tone of voice.

Much to Geto's annoyance, you was extremely stubborn and wasn't going to let him go easily. "Come on, Suguru, you know it doesn't mean anything to me if you fuck me or not, l'll just find someone else... But you need me so badly, don't you? Just admit it.." You tugged down the zip of his trousers, palming his erection through the thin material of his boxers, already slightly damp from precum.

He grunted quietly as soon as you touched him, even if not directly, staring at you with his usual sharp gaze. "Don't fucking touch me!" He tried make his voice harsh and careless, but when you squeezed his pretty cock, he couldn't help the needy whine that left him, hips involuntarily jolting up. Both of you were surprised by the cute noise, and you couldn't help the grin on your face.

"Come on, Suguru... Can't lie now, can you?" You asked with a teasing grin, chuckling at his embarrassed blush. He was so beautiful like that. "You'll only need to ask, and then I'll be yours to use." Your tone was teasing as you looked back at him, surprised by the way he averted his gaze, biting his lip shyly. You never thought he'd actually do it!

But he was already looking at you with an usually soft gaze, lips drawn into a cute pout. "Only because I have to!" He reminded you quickly, and you just nodded with a laugh. "Okay, fine... y/n... Please... Please let me fuck you. I know I was bad, but I'll be good if that means I can be inside you! I need you, baby... need you so fuckin' bad..."

Nanami Kento

He'd be surprisingly willing to beg for what he wants He's a very respectful man, and if you tell him to do something, he'll do it immediately It does take him a while to be honest about what he really wants, though, but with your comfort, he becomes less shy But he only wants to do things that give you pleasure, such a gentleman

Kento was always doing things that would make you feel good, fucking you whenever you asked, setting the pace that you wanted, never depriving you of kisses and gentle touches, always making sure that you knew how much you were loved. He never asked for anything in return either, always insisting that your pleasure was more important.

And as wonderful as it was, always getting spoiled by him, you wasn't heartless and knew that there must be something else that the poor man wanted. Yes, your pleasure was important, but his was too! He mattered just as much as you did, but he always answered with the same thing.

"Y/n, I just want you to feel good, nothing else matters to me..." Whenever he spoke to anyone else, his tone was always bored and distracted, but when you was there, his expression and tone brightened significantly. If you thought about it, he was no different than a puppy waiting for his master to come home.

You took his hands with a smile. "I know you want me to feel good, Kento... but it makes me feel good when I'm doing the same for you, you know..." You pulled him closer into a gentle kiss, smiling lightly at how he reached up instinctively to cling onto you desperately. For someone with pretty closed body language, he always wanted to have a physical connection with you, always needing to touch you in some way.

When you pulled away, Kento's face was flushed and he was panting softly. Your heart softened as you looked down at him, cupping his cheek gently. "Fucking hell, Kento... You're so pretty..." And when you praised him, the blush on his face darkened slightly, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

You couldn't help but notice the way he was squirming in his seat as well, eyes closed tightly. A quick look downwards showed you exactly what he wanted to see. The poor thing was hard, just from kissing you! What a naughty little thing! But considering the fact that he resembled a puppy, you supposed it wasn't all that surprising. Clearly the poor thing couldn't help it! When he saw that you had noticed, he turned his head away in shame, trying to find a way to apologise, but as soon as he opened his mouth, you rushed to interrupt him.

"Uh-uh, baby boy... this is a perfect opportunity to make my Kento feel good, right? So don't be shy. Tell me exactly what you want..." When he saw that you really meant it, he nodded shyly, mouth opening a few times, but he never said anything. Guessing that it was hard for him, you almost stopped him, about to reassure him that it didn't matter, that he didn't have to, but he spoke before you could get the words out. "Y/n... could you... I- Fuck, I'm sorry... I just need your mouth so desperately... I need to feel your lips around my cock, please!"

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at how honest be was, but you grinned and lowered yourself to you knees, gaze fixed on his flushed expression and the way his hands shook, uncertain of where to put them. He was truly adorable. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad teaching him how be a little more selfish once in a while.

Fushiguro Toji

This man wasn't as dominant as he looked, though of course he had his moments But a lot of the time, he wanted that reassurance of not needing to make decisions or having control over a situation Naturally, one thing that didn't change was his entitled attitude, always acting as if you owed him something It look you an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to get past that

"Come on, be a doll and stay still for me, will you?" You cooed as you looked down at the man underneath you. You was riding him, bur considering the fact that you had just came, you asked for just a second to compose yourself. It just so happened that he was also close at the time, and you couldn't help but grin at the look on his face when you stopped moving.

His eyes were dark with annoyance as he glared up at you, rolling his eyes as he completely ignored your words, reaching to the bedside table to grab a cigarette and lighter, a stunned grunt leaving him when you slapped them out of his hand. "What the fuck is your problem?" He growled as gripped your hips, lifting you up by the hips and slamming you back down on his cock, movement rough and forceful, making you moan loudly in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Toji, fuck! Fuck, slow down!" You groaned, eyebrows drawn into a frown as he moved you up and down mercilessly, only laughing lowly at your struggle to take his size. He had always been like that, a selfish prick who only thought about his own pleasure, not caring about how you felt in the slightest, but fuck, you loved it.

But you'd been told by several people that it would be more satisfying to put the asshole back in his place, even if it was a struggle considering your current predicament. And yet, you'd reserved your strength for the moment that he was about to cum and his grip on your hips loosened slightly. You grabbed his wrists as tightly as you could forcing them up and above his head, holding them in place as you frantically reached for the rope you had hidden under the pillow, tying his arms together.

Toji didn't really have much to protest about, though, when you continued to move your hips, working yourself up and down on your cock, shaking your head in amusement at his confused expression. Of course, that look on his face didn't last long as he came with a grunt, gritting his teeth as his body finally relaxed on the bed. You slowed to a stop, grinning down at him, kissing him gently.

"So what's the point of the rope, darling?" He asked with his usual smug smirk, such a calm expression on his face. You'd never done anything like that before, and he just assumed it was an adorable act of defiance and you'd just pout and untie him a minute later. He clearly didn't expect you to take a deep breathe before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down on his cock. It didn't matter to you as much considering the fact that you had had longer to recover, but for Toji, who had had less than a minute since he had last cum, the overstimulation stung.

That was when he realised why you tied his hands down, so he couldn't stop you. In that position, he could do nothing to get away from you, completely helpless on the bed. "Come on, baby just give a sec, yeah?" He asked with a groan, the muscles in his arms tensing as he tried to break free, but you just shook your head with a grin. "You don't want me to take a break, so you don't get a fucking break, got it? Not unless you ask really nicely..."

He scoffed at first, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, but when he really saw that you had no plans on stopping, he was forced to reconsider. The feeling was too much, and while it was one of the best feelings in the world, it felt like he was on the verge of tears, and he would rather die right then than cry in front of you. "Fuck's sake, y/n, slow down!" And when you simply refused, he groaned weakly in protest, voice finally dropping to a soft plea. "Come on, y/n, just be a dear and slow down, please? I promise I'll do whatever you want me to, just give me a minute to recover!"

Choso Kamo

Choso was always such an adorable little thing, sweet and obedient for you, always so drunk on whatever pleasure you give him But he quickly became a bit of a brat because of how much you spoiled him He stopped asking for what he wanted, just assuming that he was entitled to everything Yet since Choso was usually such a good boy, it wasn't a problem that couldn't be fixed easily.

It didn't matter how matter many times you had fucked Choso or had allowed him to fuck you, he was still so sensitive, whining and crying prettily within the first few minutes, making your heart soften whenever you looked at him. He was also incredibly loud, always moaning and whimpering, drooling over himself like a whore. You couldn't help but adore him, but that meant that you often spoiled him, giving him whatever he wanted.

In your defence, you didn't expect him to become such a brat, always expecting things from you now. And it wasn't as if you minded. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was still a good boy for you, and he still showed you a lot of respect, most of the time. It was only recently that his attitide started to change. Of course, it was nothing too major, just his reluctance to ask for what he wanted, thinking he could just take it.

He was curled up comfortably on your lap, head rested on your shoulder, but he had no interest at all in the book you were reading, groaning in frustration as he rolled off your lap soon after, causing you to shake your head fondly at the sight of him sitting cross-legged on the floor. You just assumed that he was going to get up and find another way to amuse himself and so you looked back down at your book, shaking your head fondly.

That is, until you felt his hands pushing your legs apart and the sight of him kneeling between them. Before you could even speak, he was pawing at your trousers, trying to get them down, basically drooling as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling when he saw you looking down at him.

He didn't, however, expect you to grab him by his pigtails, tugging his head back by his hair, making him cry out from the sudden pain, blinking up at you with pretty tears in his eyes, a pout of "What was that for?" As he looked up at you, bottom lip trembling. It was typical of him to pull the tears whenever he wanted anything since you always gave him what he wanted.

This time, however, you were prepared for the tears as you simply hardened your expression, refusing to give in. "What do you mean, what was that for? Don't be such a stupid brat!" You tugged his hair roughly, grinning at his cute little whimper, only tugging his hair harder as he tried to get away. What did he really think would happen?

"You can't just take what you want, Choso. Stupid little whore..." The words were spilling out of your mouth, and it surprised you that Choso really seemed to enjoy it, face getting redder and redder with each insult, gasping weakly when you dropped the handful of hair again. "You want it that much, beg for it! You can do that for me, can't you?"

He nodded immediately, shifting his position as he looked up at you, hands clasping together, almost in a prayer. "Please, master, please let me feel good! I promise I'll never be a brat again! I'll always be a good boy for you!" His voice was so soft and sweet as he blinked up at you, and he whined pathetically when you didn't immediately give into him. "You don't even have to look at me, just let me make you feel good too!" And really, how could you deny a little whore like him?

[toomanygoldfish]

You and your boyfriend Iwaizumi had been lounging on the couch for the past hour or two, binging your favorite movie series.

You had gotten up to go make a snack for the both of you when you hear you boyfriend’s voice call out; “hey love?”

pausing what you were doing you answer him;“yea?”

“can you get my phone for me? I think someone texted me.” “sure” you hadn’t heard his phone go off, but you shuffle around, finishing what you were doing before bringing it to him.

you take a glance down at his phone as you walk towards the living room. His lock screen was a picture you had sent him while you were babysitting two young kids.

You had found some face paint and had let the kids draw freely on your face. You had a mustache and a few strange flowers on your cheek.

You had made duck lips to take a photo and had sent it to him. You had forgotten about the phot about five minutes later after one of the children had decided to eat the houseplant.

You gently toss the phone at him. He catches it and you glower at him. “I could have given you a much better Lock Screen picture than that”

he smoothed his face into one of innocence. He looked up at you, “but you look cute”

Huffing at his voice you turn away and walk back into the kitchen before calling out, “I still could have given you a better one.”

there is a pause before you hear faintly from the other room, “… ok send it over”

——————three days later———————

“hey Zumi! Your phone whent off, do you want me to bring it to you?” You were lounging around in your bed when his phone went off. He had gone the his office to finish up some paperwork.

“sure! Thank you [Name]” you pulled yourself off of the bed and started making your way to the office. His phone went off once more glancing down at it you see it’s a text from Oikawa.

“Of cou— you didn’t change the Lock Screen.” Behind that text from Oikawa was that gosh darn picture. “noo?”

Standing in the doorway you make eye contact with him. “Are you asking or telling me?”

He mouth opens and closes like a goldfish for a moment before he bursts out, “but my love! You looked so cute!”

you gasp in mock outrage, turning on his phone you shove the lock screen right in front of his face. Holding back a giggle you yell, “I look like a squirrel!!!”

He reaches up to grab you wrist. He pulled it down and kisses it. “but I still love you either way!”

“WOW” by this point you are full on laughing. “Well I can’t get too mad at you.”

He looks up at you, and with mild distrust in his voice he tentatively asks “why?”

With an ear to ear grin on your face, you pull out your own phone and show him your lock screen, “cause I got this photo of you as mine.”

“EW. What the crap! Did Oikawa send you this?” He physically recoiled from the photo.

“yeah.” You can barely breathe through you laughs.

“change it!”

“no you look cute in it!!”

You looked at you before almost lunging at you. “YOU LITTLE—“

The two of you were rolling on the floor, wrestling for possession of the phone.

[mint-yooxgi]

{9} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Jongho)

Words: 12,135

Warnings: Violence. Arguments and verbal fights. OC gets some sense slapped into them by Reina, literally. Mentions of blood and of small cuts being inflicted to a wrist to draw blood. Mental Illness: mentions of anxiety, depression, and PTSD. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Not me staying up to post this when I have work in a few hours lmfaoooo anyways, this chapter turned out much longer than I expected! So, yay!! I'm quite happy with how it turned out, cause I feel like the stress of the situation is a sort of catalyst to the argument that ensues. I'm just glad I was able to get in everything that I wanted. It definitely starts off a bit tense, but the ending is quite light and happy. Also, potential smut next chapter anyone? 👀 As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

The moment Yeosang feels you brush against his mind, he’s appearing in Reina’s apartment.

“Sweet baby, Jesus.” Reina places a hand over her racing heart as he now stands across from her in the living room. “You weren’t kidding when you said they can just appear.”

“I told you,” you chuckle, moving over to stand beside him. 

You notice that she rests just a tad bit shorter than him as she looks him over, her arms crossed over her chest.

“So, you’re Yeosang.” She takes a moment to look him up and down. “The musician.”

“And you’re Reina.” His brow quirks slightly in amusement. “The best friend.”

“The one and only.” She grins, tucking the tome further beneath her arm. “Though, you had longer, blond hair the first time we met.”

Yeosang spares a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes. “That I did.”

Briefly, you lean into him, explaining lowly what Reina remembers of the incident.

He nods in understanding.

“So,” Reina’s voice draws both of your attention back to her, “you play the violin.”

“I do.” Yeosang confirms with another brief nod of his head.

“A little birdie told me that you learned a specific melody for her.” There’s a knowing lilt to her voice as she says this. “Well done.”

The corners of Yeosang’s lips quirk upwards. A certain pride begins to fill his chest seeing as he cannot get a read on Reina’s thoughts anymore. There seems to be a spell blocking her mind from his, keeping her opinion of him secret. Though, from what she’s implying right now, he assumes that he’s gotten her approval. Or at least, some of it.

“You can do your best friend interrogation later,” you step over to playfully nudge her shoulder. “We’ve got another pressing matter to attend to.”

“Right, right,” she waves you off as the two of you step back over to Yeosang. “Sorry, I can’t help it. Now that I know, I need to make sure they pass my inspection and everything. They may be Kings, but I’m still your best friend.”

You snort out a laugh just as Yeosang places a hand onto each one of your shoulders.

“You know that your approval of them won’t change how I feel.” You grin. “Also, brace yourself: bend your knees, and close your eyes. It helps with the nausea the first few times.”

You barely make out the confused furrow of her brow when Yeosang is teleporting the three of you back home. Once the foyer is in view, you notice Reina stumble forward, and you immediately move to steady her on her feet.

“I warned you,” you chuckle, helping her straighten back upright.

“I don’t think there’s a proper warning for that.” She grumbles, brushing some stray flyaways out of her eyes. She blinks a few times after that, further clearing her vision.

From down the hallway, you notice a few of the other guys file out of Jongho’s room. The commotion must have drawn their attention, and you watch as Reina tenses ever so slightly as the commanding presences of the Kings of the Realm washes over her. The worried pull of their brows could definitely be mistaken for looks of irritation.

Only, she doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it all that much for Sudaem is stepping out of the room.

A gasp of awe escapes Reina, bypassing all of the males to walk right up to the gorgon.

“You must be Sudaem.” She extends her hand out to the female. “I’m Reina, baby caster. Nice to meet ya!”

Sudaem seems taken aback by Reina’s forwardness, and you can only chuckle fondly as you lightly push your best friend into the room.

“We can do proper introductions later.” You finally step into Jongho’s bedroom, seeing that he hasn’t moved a single inch since you last left him two hours ago. Stella seems to be absent as well. “We’re on a tight schedule here.”

“I’ve prepared everything that I could,” Sudaem addresses you. “There are a few things left that the spell requires, other than the caster’s performance.”

“What else does the spell need?” You inquire, watching as Sudaem moves over to the side to grab her own spell book that has been resting open on top of the dresser this whole time. Wordlessly, she hands it to Reina.

“It will need your blood, since you are connected to him in such a way currently.” She says, bringing a brass bowl filled with ash root, along with a few other things, over to you.

Carefully, Reina places her own tome down onto the dresser, balancing the other spell book effortlessly in her hand. You can see her eyes darting over the words on the page, and you just know that she’s taking in all of the instructions with excruciating detail. Her mind is practically racing behind her eyes, suddenly feeling the pressure of this moment building on her shoulders.

“This is a complex spell.” She comments, worried gaze darting over to you.

“It is.” Sudaem is the one to answer, a nod to her head as she holds the bowl beneath your wrist.

You turn to look at the males standing at the side of the room. “I’m going to need a blade.”

You can see the hesitation on their faces even before they say anything.

“If this is going to work-“

“We know, Dearest,” Yeosang grimaces. “We just don’t ever like seeing you injured, no matter the context.”

“I understand that,” you incline your head. “But-“

“I’ll do it,” Hongjoong steps forward, a small dagger appearing in his hand and glinting beneath the candlelight that illuminates the room.

The curtains have long since been drawn, blocking out any and all natural light. Even the door to Jongho’s room has been closed since you’ve all reentered it, only the faint flickering of the flames causing shadows to dance over the walls.

Carefully, Hongjoong grabs your wrist in his free hand, thumb gently stroking over your unmarred skin. He glances upwards briefly, noticing how you nod subtly at him. A small, reassuring smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“How much blood is needed?” He directs his question towards Sudaem, not even bothering to break eye contact with you.

“At least five drops.” She replies instantly, holding the bowl steady all the while.

Hongjoong nods his understanding, and you can sense the tension in the room radiating off of the others as he brings the edge of the blade to your skin. A flick of his wrist and blood begins dripping into the bowl beneath you. Yet, as always, the pain of such a wound never comes, and from how intently he seems to be staring at your wrist, you know that he has something to do with it.

Not even ten seconds later, Hongjoong’s thumb is tracing over the small incision. Smooth skin replaces the open wound as he heals you without another word, turning his sharp gaze briefly to Sudaem. She scurries away, moving beside Reina with the bowl after hearing his silent command loud and clear.

This should be plenty of blood, anyways.

“All that’s left is to cast the spell,” Sudaem says, and you notice how everyone’s gaze suddenly turns to Reina.

She blinks. “No pressure, or anything.”

“If you can summon the Eight Kings without knowing what you are, you should have no issues with this spell.” Sudaem comments, and you sense the slightest bit of reassurance leaking into her tone.

Your brow quirks slightly.

Taking a candle into her hand, Reina holds it just above the brass bowl that Sudaem clutches beside her. Lightly, she tilts it, allowing the wax to begin dripping into the mixture periodically. Steam begins to rise from the bowl as Reina begins chanting, focussing her energy into casting this spell for the time being.

The bowl bursts into flames, Reina’s voice echoing throughout the room and commanding your attention. Faintly her eyes begin to glow, the whites taking over every visible colour as an intense wind kicks up inside of the room.

You hold your breath, feeling Hongjoong place a comforting hand onto your shoulder just as you reach for Jongho’s own. You can tell that you’re not the only one holding on to another as a lifeline in this moment, worry clear on all of your features as you glance between Reina and Jongho continuously.

The blaze within the bowl begins to die down, along with the wind. Not even a moment later, all of the candles go out, and the room is shrouded in darkness.

Subconsciously, you tighten your hold on Jongho’s hand.

A blink, and both Mingi and San have relit the candles, bathing the room in a warm amber glow once more. The bowl still smokes, but no longer are Reina’s eyes glowing. The only difference seems to be the rise and fall of her chest as she desperately fills her lungs with air.

“Did it work?” She meets your gaze, a sort of hesitance to her voice.

Some complicated spell that was, there weren’t even multiple components to it.

Quickly, you turn your head to face Jongho, noting the steady rise and fall of his own chest. You don’t notice any physical changes, so you lean into him, lifting your free hand to caress the side of his face.

The whole room goes still, anticipation lingering throughout. Not even the flickering sound of the flames can be heard as you all watch Jongho intently, waiting for that tell tale sign of movement beneath his lids.

Except, it never comes.

Your whole body freezes, heart suffocating painfully inside your chest.

“It didn’t work…” your voice is small, words nothing more than a whisper on your lips.

Tears begin to well in your eyes as your throat tightens. You were betting everything on this spell, not even bothering to think of the consequences of it not working. You had faith in Reina, and you had faith in him.

“You must have done something wrong.” Mingi rounds on Reina, a stern frown pulling at his features.

The gorgon shakes her head, devastation clear on her features. “She didn’t.”

“Did we have all the proper ingredients?” Yunho directs his question towards Sudaem, stepping in beside the stunned gorgon.

Sudaem stands there, hands trembling as she clutches the bowl in front of her. Her lips part periodically, like a fish out of water as her snakes begin shifting restlessly over her head. Her slate grey eyes shine with unshed tears, fear freezing her to her spot.

“It should have worked,” she whispers, whole body beginning to shake. “We did everything right: the ingredients, the preparation, the caster.”

“We knew there was going to be a possibility that it wouldn’t.” Seonghwa keeps his voice low, though you can still hear the panic seeping into his tone.

“Are we sure it was the right spell?” San begins pacing, his hand coming up to support his chin as his mind races with what to do.

“It has to be,” Sudaem answers lowly, blinking a few times to clear her vision. “There’s no other spell he could be under, and this is the only one I know to bring him back.”

You opt to remain quiet, mind reeling with all of this information, and lack there of around you. Desperately, you attempt to come up with a solution for a problem you don’t know all of the variables for, drawing a blank each time.

Hesitantly, Reina shifts over to the dresser. She places the spell book in her hands gently on top of the wood, pulling her own tome closer to herself. Slowly, she begins flipping through the pages, skimming through the words until she finds the section she’s looking for. Once she does, her eyes dart over the lines quickly, brain scrambling to comprehend everything going on around her.

A call of your name from her draws your attention.

“Don’t dissociate just yet, and get your ass over here.” Reina states, quite firmly, without taking her gaze away from the book.

Wordlessly, you move over to her side.

“Dissociate?” There’s a hint of worry to Wooyoung’s voice.

Reina points to the page for you to read before turning around to face the others in the room.

“She’s about to get into her own head again,” she blinks, crossing her arms as she leans back against the dresser. “Can you not see the signs?”

A low warning growl escapes San’s lips.

“Don’t growl at her.” You turn your head to look at him from over your shoulder, brow tugging downwards disapprovingly. “She’s only trying to help.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn back around. Reading the words on the page explaining the ‘Veil of the Hypnos’ spell keeps you grounded for the moment, head spinning with what you can do to save Jongho.

“You all need to keep talking.” Reina instructs. “I’m still new at this whole witching thing, but tell me everything you know about this curse he’s under.”

The several males all share a brief look, but it’s Sudaem who speaks first. Calmly, she explains all that she knows about the spell to Reina. Everything that she’s already told you.

Your body goes still, mind churning as you hear the details once more.

“So, he’s stuck in a plane between this world and the next.” You state, blinking blankly down at the page before you.

“Every second lost he could be straying further from his body.” Sudaem confirms, fingers nervously wringing together. “Not to mention what else creeps through the veil.”

You swallow thickly, lips pursing into a thin line. Softly, you begin to nod to yourself.

Reina spares a look at you out of the corner of her eyes. “I know that look.”

“We just need to bring him back to his body.” You’re somewhat just speaking out loud at this point, but you do not shift your eyes away from that page open before you.

The words ‘connection’ and ‘high emotion’ practically glare back up at you.

You turn to look at Reina.

A silent conversation seems to be happening between the both of you. She tilts her head in inquiry, to which your eyes widen exasperatedly. A moment later, her brow furrows in concern while you begin to nod quite eagerly.

“No.” Her tone is firm as she shakes her head. “No way in hell.”

“What?” There’s an even bigger look of worry pulling on Wooyoung’s face as he looks between the two of you.

“Three-hundred and fourteen seconds.” You say. “That’s all you need to give me.”

“That’s just over five minutes.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows in confusion, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Read the page and tell me that that’s not what it’s implying.” You practically slap your hand over the tome open on the dresser beside you. “I can bring him back."

“There is no way I am putting you under the same curse as him just so you can, what? Stumble your way through the veil and attempt to find him?” She replies, her eyebrows practically raising into her hair as her voice rises in pitch. “I am not killing my best friend. That spell hitting you is suicide.”

A hushed understanding passes over the room and panic immediately seizes each male.

“You’re thinking what?” Seonghwa’s eyes look about ready to bug right out of his head, needing to rest a hand against the wall for support.

“Not if I’m prepared for it!” You counter. 

“We’re not putting you under to lose you, too.” San’s voice is firm, a hint of desperation shining through as he looks to you.

“Petal, we need to think this through.” Yunho’s worried tone comes through, his heart pounding restlessly in his chest.

“I have thought it through.” You turn to them. “If this is the only way we can get Jongho back-“

“It’s not the only way.” Sudaem cuts in, her eyes somewhat glazed over as she stares at the ground in thought.

“It doesn’t matter!” Wooyoung is frantic, crossing the distance between the two of you in an instant and holding you at arms length. “We just got you back! We can’t lose you again.”

“This is my choice, Woo.” You reply, placing your own hands gently atop of his own and sliding them from your shoulders.

“No,” San shakes his head. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“This is insane.” Mingi begins pacing, pulling at his roots once more.

“I’m thinking perfectly fine.” You reply calmly, turning meeting Hongjoong’s wide eyed gaze. “Wasn’t it you who told me that the first step to sanity is embracing the insane?”

“Now is not the time to be arguing about this.” Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest. “Dearest, you can’t say something as reckless as that right now. We might lose our brother, don’t make it so we lose you, too.”

“You won’t lose me.” You shake your head.

“You don’t know that!” There’s genuine fear in Seonghwa’s eyes as he falls to his knees. He looks about ready to start pleading with you in a moment, genuine desperation clear on his features.

“The spell didn’t work when we tried it on Jongho to bring him back,” Hongjoong attempts to keep his voice calm, levelheaded. “What makes you so certain it will work to bring the both of you back this time?”

“I’m connected to all of you, aren’t I?” Your gaze darts around the room, and you notice how Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung have all started to cry.

“Starlight-“

“Hold the fuck up!” Reina cuts in, furious gaze locked on you. “Are you negating the fact that I will not be casting such a spell on my own fucking best friend?”

“Reina-“

“Don’t you, ‘Reina’ me! I’ll admit, we’ve done some stupid fucking shit before, but this takes the cake!” She slams her hand on top of the dresser beside her. “Do you realize what you’re fucking asking of me? In front of them no less?”

Her free hand points in the several male’s direction, clear panic on her features.

“I understand-“

“I don’t think you do!” Her eyes blaze with an unrivalled fury, the whites of her eyes beginning to glow.

“Um, excuse me-“ A timid voice attempts to cut through the thicket of booming arguments being thrown around the room.

“They would be doing the exact same thing for me right now if I had been the one to actually get hit!” You counter, arm flinging out in the direction of the bed Jongho rests upon to point at him. Briefly, your gaze darts around the room. “You’re telling me that none of you would be thinking any differently if you knew that this was your only option left?”

“There’s a difference, Dearest,” Yeosang grimaces. “We are not human.”

“Excuse me-“ The voice is a little firmer this time, but still gets ignored.

“Don’t you dare play the entities card on me right now.” The tears of frustration you so desperately attempt to hold back begin to streak down your face. “What happened to us being equals?”

You fail to miss the side-eyed glance Reina gives you, backing away slowly from the rising tension in the room.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.” Mingi’s voice is low as he freezes in his spot.

“No, what’s not fair is the double standard you all have when it comes to doing things for me.” You counter, voice rough with the rawness of your emotions. “So, you all can risk your lives for me whenever it pleases you, but when I wish to do the same for one of you it’s suddenly not okay? I’m the reason Jongho is in this godforsaken mess in the first place. Am I not allowed to want to right my wrong? Am I not allowed to want to save a man I love?”

“You know we’ve never blamed you for this, Baby.” San states, wiping away his tears using the back of his hand.

“Petal, we’ve talked about this,” Yunho grimaces slightly, taking a half step towards you only for you to avoid his reach.

“If this is the only option we have, then I will gladly sacrifice myself for someone that I love.” You see the devastation on their faces as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“But, what about us?” Wooyoung’s voice is small, probably the quietest you’ve ever heard him.

“What about you?” You cross you arms over your chest, a slight frown pulling at your features.

“Are you that desperate to ignore our own feelings on the matter?” San meets your gaze, and you can feel your throat tighten.

“Of course not!” You immediately reply, shaking your head.

“We swore that we would always protect you, and now you want to risk your life for a plan that might not even work?” Mingi shifts restlessly from foot to foot, his hair sticking out in odd ends.

“We don’t know it won’t work.” You reason. “Besides, I’ve survived much worse than some measly little curse.”

Collectively, their breaths hitch.

“Don’t go there.” Seonghwa’s hands brace himself on the floor, his tears spilling freely onto the hardwood beneath his palms.

A low, warning call of your name sounds from Reina.

“We have already almost lost you more times than we ever thought we would,” Hongjoong states, keeping his voice low. “Don’t add another mark to the tally.”

“Then, what are we supposed to do, Hongjoong?” Your hands desperately run over the top of your head, fingers digging into the skin of your skull.

He remains silent, the others offering no other solutions, either.

“This is my choice,” you breathe out. “A choice I know all of you would be making if that were me on that bed right now.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Wooyoung replies, quite exasperatedly. “Your guilt is blinding you from reason!”

“You think I’m doing this solely out of guilt?” You turn your gaze to the younger demon standing near you, your eyes blazing with a sort of pained fear. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Do you think that we don’t know exactly what you’re going through right now? That we don’t understand exactly how you’re feeling?” Seonghwa’s voice is strained, glancing up at you through tear filled eyes. “What’s not fair is you making light of the worst night of our lives.”

Your breath catches, and you swear your heart stops. A second later, and your hands are balling into fists at your sides.

“Do you really think that night was any better for me?” Your eyes are bloodshot from all the crying you’re doing, voice cracking as your whole body shakes. “You only got to see the aftermath. I had to live through it! I’m still living it. Every time I close my eyes, if I don’t watch my every goddamn thought, she is there. She is everywhere I look, and she continues to torture me even in death. She has woven herself so deeply into my life that each time I think I pull a thread loose, another appears to take her place.”

“Petal,“ Yunho takes a concerned step towards you again, nothing but sorrow pulling at his features.

“Do you think I’m not terrified to wake up every morning, only to discover that this has all been some elaborate fabrication that she has made in my mind to continue torturing me with?” Your admission has them all freezing in their spots, tears beginning to fall freely down all of their faces. “I never want another person to experience even an ounce of pain that she made me suffer through, and now Jongho could fucking die because of my mistake!”

“Don’t make his sacrifice into something horrific.” Mingi shakes his head, voice barely above a whisper as he attempts to reign in his emotions for the moment. “He would have done what any of us would have in that situation.”

“That’s exactly my point!” You raise your hand a bit exasperatedly in the air. “You cannot avoid the truth that’s always been right in front of you. That’s not fair at all.”

“You think that it’s fair to Wooyoung that you avoid the dance studio because of what she did to you in it?” Yeosang’s voice cutting through the darkness of the room surprises even you. He keeps it steady, watching you with a cautious gaze the whole time.

The aforementioned male remains quiet, a new sense of stillness travelling through the room as Wooyoung suddenly avoids your gaze when you look to him.

“Do you think it’s fair to Seonghwa that you do the same to his tailor shop?” Yeosang adds lowly. San places his hand onto the elder’s shoulder in worry, but Yeosang just shrugs him off before continuing. “You haven’t even looked at the art room or the garden since everything happened. Do you think that’s fair to Yunho? To Hongjoong?”

“Yeosang-“

Yunho’s own worried protest gets cut off by the aforementioned male.

“You haven’t even touched the piano since that day at your parents house,” he continues, keeping his tone steady as he watches you physically trembling before his very eyes. He can tell that you’re doing whatever you can to hold yourself together at this point in time, but you’re simply a moment from falling apart. “Do you think doing something this reckless will reclaim those parts of yourself that you lost? Have you even tried getting them back?”

A brief silence.

“Maybe I don’t want them back.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet you fail to realize exactly how your words sound to everyone in that room.

Reina’s eyes are wide as she watches the crestfallen expressions overtake each male’s face. He gaze darts around the room, noticing how nearly all of them barely keep themselves together, whole bodies shaking as the two tallest males fall to their knees.

The sound of the slap reaches your ears before you feel the harsh stinging on your cheek. 

A gasp of surprise escapes Sudaem, her hands coming up to cover her mouth in shock as she stares at the scene before her. Reina’s hand still rests in the air, your head turned harshly to the side as several low warning growls resonate throughout the room.

No matter what the circumstances might be, you are still their Queen, and they will do whatever they can to protect you.

Little do any of you see the way Jongho’s fingers twitch subtly in his sleep.

“How dare you fucking say that in front of me.” Reina’s voice is low as she pulls you upright and holds you firmly at arms length. “Do you even know how that sounded? Directed at them of all people? Pull yourself together. Now is not the time to be arguing about this. You said it yourself, time is of the utmost essence! Sudaem has been trying to tell you all something for the past ten minutes. So, pull your head out of your ass, and stop being a selfish, heartless crab!”

This seems to snap you out of your angry stupor, blinking at your best friend a few times to clear your head. Only, just as you begin to nod along with her words, Reina is torn from you, being pinned to the wall by her throat.

“Don’t you ever speak to My Divine like that again.” Seonghwa’s voice is low as he leans into her, nothing but a harsh whisper on his lips. The eldest looks completely crazed right now, tears streaking down his cheek as his eyes flash in warning.

“Raise your hand against Our Queen like that again, friend or not, and it will be the last thing you ever do.” Wooyoung seethes, gaze pitch black as he stands just behind the eldest for the moment.

“Seonghwa, Wooyoung,” you manage to step over to them, pulling them away from Reina in an instant. “She’s right.” 

Your best friend crumples to the floor, coughing slightly as she attempts to catch her breath.

Turning to face all of the males once more, your shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“We can talk about it later,” Yunho’s voice is soft as he helps Mingi back to his feet. “Okay, Petal?”

A small nod is all he receives in response.

“Geez! You weren’t kidding when you said they’re extremely over protective.” She wheezes, using you as a support as you help her back to her feet.

“You were the one brave enough to slap me in front of them.” You chuckle, feeling all of their eyes on you.

“More like stupid enough.” A weak smile tugs at her lips as she leans on you for the moment. She lets out a chuckle of her own, teasingly nudging your side. “Well, stupid is as stupid does.”

“She’s slapped you before?” There’s a hint of irritation in Mingi’s voice when he says this, head tilting forward the slightest bit in disbelief.

“We’ve been roughhousing since we’ve been young.” You shrug. “She’s the only one allowed to slap me, and I’m the only one allowed to slap her. Only when we’re being ridiculous, of course.”

“She still hurt you.” San stands tense across the room, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Because I was hurting you.” You meet his gaze briefly before turning back to face Sudaem. “My apologies, you were going to say?”

The gorgon straightens a bit in her spot, clearing her throat as she feels everyone’s eyes on her. Nervously, she shifts from foot to foot, her snakes falling silent around her as their tongues flick out to scent the tension slowly dissipating from the air.

“I was just going to say,” she looks to you, “this isn’t our only option.”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s another spell that will put you under, and enable you to walk through the veil without having to use the ‘Veil of the Hypnos’ curse.” She explains.

“Then, what are we waiting for?” You take an eager step forward.

“Petal, we need to talk about this,” Yunho’s worried voice reaches your ears, the events of the past ten minutes still swirling through his mind.

“Hang on a moment, I’m not done,” Sudaem raises a hand in the air in a halting motion. “This one does indeed have a time limit, and you cannot wander too far from your body lest you actually wind up lost in the veil forever.”

You swear you see Mingi pulling out his hair again just as Wooyoung turns around with an exasperated huff.

“There’s no winning with this, is there?” Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head.

“How does it work?” You motion for Sudaem to continue.

“Well, again, since you’re connected, you would have the best chance of finding him if put under.” She begins. “Your mind would essentially be transported to the space between realms and set to wander freely for about five minutes. Then, we’d have to pull you and whoever you’re holding on to back out. At least this way we guarantee you won’t die on contact from the initial casting of the spell.”

“And if I can’t find him?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room. “What then?”

“Then, we’ll take it from there.” Seonghwa sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Your lips tighten into a thin line, turning back to face Sudaem as your thoughts race. Shifting, you rest a hand on top of the dresser to support yourself with as you look down at the ground. Blinking a few times, you think everything over.

“This all has to do with the mind being separated from the body, right?” You spare a glance at Sudaem.

“In a way, yes.” She confirms. “The body cannot live without the mind.”

“What if the mind had a physical attachment to this realm? Would that give me more time? Would it make the spell easier?” You meet her gaze, and you know she can see the gears turning in your mind.

“It’s possible, but I’m not sure.” Sudaem replies honestly. “It might make it easier when you get called back to your body, though. You’d have a direct path back to it, no matter how far you were.”

You nod your understanding, turning to face the several males standing off to the side once more. One brush against all of their strings lets them know exactly what you’re thinking.

The several males share a look.

“We don’t like this, but at least it’s a better option than the other one.” Yunho crosses his arms over his chest.

“We’d rather it be one of us that goes under.” San adds, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“There are things worse than just mist floating around inside the veil.” Seonghwa breathes out, somewhat shakily.

“Then, I’ll be quick. If anything happens, I’ll tug back so you know to pull me out right away.” You state rather firmly, turning back to face Sudaem. “What do I need to do?”

Sudaem spares a glance around the room, the faintest hint of apology on her features as she meets the King’s gazes. Then, taking a deep breath, she begins.

Which is exactly how you find yourself sitting on the edge of Jongho’s bed, his hand held tightly in yours not even five minutes later.

“We’re going to need more of your blood.” Sudaem holds that brass bowl in her hands once more.

Mingi, Wooyoung, and San all curse under their breaths.

“I will gladly bleed again,” you state, rather firmly. “I will bleed as many times as it takes to ensure that this works, and he comes back to us. It’s what I would do for any of you, and I know you would all do the same for me.”

Any words of protest that had been building on their lips fail, frustrated looks of understanding passing over their features. You’re right, and even though they don’t particularly like this, they’ll deal with it. They have to.

Again, it’s Hongjoong that gently slits your skin, taking your pain and making sure to heal you as soon as possible. This time, though, Sudaem paints a symbol over the back of your hand, mirroring it on Jongho’s as his is still held firmly in your own.

Softly, you brush up against that maroon string in your mind before grabbing ahold of it as tightly as you can. This string will be your lifeline to him, and you hope beyond everything that your theory of it guiding you to him is correct.

A second later, you feel the rest of the guys doing the same to you. You don’t even need to look at any of them to sense the worry and slight hesitation that they all have lingering in their thoughts, for you sense it loud and clear through the mind links.

They move in closer.

“You’ll have just over five minutes if this all goes well.” Sudaem tells you, moving over to stand beside Reina who holds the one spell book in her hands.

“Angel, are you sure about this?” Wooyoung’s frantic voice reaches your ears, and you can see the concern still clear as day in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Positive.” You nod, and despite the shakiness to your breath, you believe that this will work.

“Any sign of danger, and you immediately contact us to pull you out.” San reiterates, cupping your cheek and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Okay, Baby?”

“Okay,” you nod your understanding, briefly leaning into his touch before turning away from him.

“We’re right here, Petal.” Yunho steps closer, sitting beside you on the bed and placing a hand onto your back in comfort.

You smile. “I know.”

Lovingly, you brush against their strings. Although it’s slight, you can just tell how much that simple notion helps them to relax.

Lifting your head, you turn to glance at both Sudaem and Reina. “I’m ready.”

Two nods from either female greet you in response. 

“Remember, send a pulse through the bond after every minute that passes so I know how much time has elapsed, and that I have left.” You spare a glance at them out of the corner of your eyes. “After the fifth one, if I don’t tug back immediately, wait fifteen seconds, and then pull me out.”

Nods of understanding are seen around the room from all of them, and you notice how Yeosang comes to kneel beside you. A blink, and he’s grabbing your free hand into his own, clinging to you for dear life. You don’t even have to look at him to know how worried he is. Not only that, but how remorseful he is for the way he spoke to you. The sorrow is written all over his face.

He will never forgive himself if they can’t pull you back out. The last thing he wants is for your final memory of him to be his harsh tone reminding you of your own trauma responses. He knows it wasn’t right of him to say those things and make you feel worse than you probably already do. Especially right now.

“Let’s do this.” Determination shines in your eyes as you look down at Jongho resting on the bed. Silently, you tug on that maroon string connecting your mind to his, sending reassuring thoughts his way.

I’m coming, Baby Bear. You swallow, somewhat nervously. Wait for me.

Not even a moment later, Reina begins immediately focusing on the page before her, while Sudaem holds that bowl close by. Softly, Reina begins chanting, her eyes beginning to glow white as power surges through the room. You can feel the mark on the back of your hand beginning to burn, and when you look down, it begins to glow a deep red. Again, a breeze picks up throughout the room, shifting the flames as shadows dance along the walls.

Then comes the silence, followed immediately by the darkness of all of the candles going out once more.

A blink and the flames are reignited.

“Did it work?” Hesitantly, Reina glances around the room.

All eyes are drawn to the bed where they see your limp body resting in Yunho’s arms. Your eyes are closed, and the symbol drawn in your blood glows faintly. Luckily, your chest seems to rise and fall steadily in even breaths. Faintly, all of the males in the room brush against your mind, holding onto that connection for dear life.

Your five minutes start now.

The first thing you notice when you go under is how light your body suddenly feels. It’s as if you’re floating upon a cloud, swaying gently with the breeze.

Your brow furrows, and groggily, you begin to blink your eyes open. Slowly, you begin to stand.

Fog surrounds you on all sides, a bright light shining from behind you. Turning reveals a faint archway, multiple colours streaming through the pale golden light. Familiar colours which seem to stretch out and attach themselves to you.

Sparing a glance down, you nearly jump back in surprise.

There, resting peacefully on the ground, is your sleeping body. You notice your arm stretched out to the side, and following the path it makes reveals Jongho’s body laying directly beside yours. Your fingers are intertwined, a faint red glow emanating from your hands.

At least you have a marker to make it back to.

Backing up slightly, you watch as those colours stretching out from the archway move with you. A moment later, and they seem to pulse with movement.

Your eyes widen in understanding. A minute has already passed.

Turning around to face the vast expanse before you, you attempt to peer through the fog. The faintest outlines of a maroon line can be seen in one direction, and you cling harder to that string in your mind.

Gently, you give it a small tug.

Something roars in the distance, and you feel your blood run cold. Whipping your head from side to side, you fail to see anything close by. Yet, that doesn’t prevent you from putting one foot in front of the other quickly in order to begin following that faint maroon line further into the mist.

The only sounds that reach your ears are that of your breathing, and the constant repetition of your feet scraping along the ground. Frantically, your eyes dart around you in search of any signs of movement, or shapes through the mist. You have a creeping feeling of being watched, and you know to trust your instincts for the moment, especially when in a place like this.

Feeling the second brush against your mind, you quicken your pace. Again, you tug lightly on that maroon string, and this time, a low growl sounds in the area, much closer than before.

You follow it.

“Come on, Baby Bear,” you mutter, eyes desperately scanning the mist for something. Anything. “Where are you?”

With every step you take, you notice that faint maroon line becoming brighter and brighter. The fog seems to be thinning too, and you can begin to make out faint shapes in the distance. One seems to be much large than the three surrounding it, and as you get closer, you begin to see corpses of… things lining the ground.

Limbs are twisted in odd angles, black blood splattered against the pale grey ground. These things appear creature like in shape, some having leather wings like bats, while others are more dog like, but they’re all about the same size. Not to mention they all seem to be that same pale grey colour as their surroundings.

Just as you feel that third brush against your mind, you see them.

A large brown grizzly bear fends off the last three of these creatures. One gets trapped in his maw, while another is torn apart by his claws. The last creature manages to jump on his back, sinking it’s own claws into his skin as he cries out in pain. Only, the bear manages to roll over quickly, crushing the smaller creature beneath its tremendous weight.

He stands back to his feet as he shakes out his fur, starting with his head.

You’d recognize that movement anywhere, and before you can stop yourself, you begin sprinting towards him. Another frantic tug is given to that maroon string and you watch as that bear lifts its head in your direction almost instantly.

Warm, brown eyes meet your gaze, and you swear you see that maroon line leading directly to him light up with a vibrance unlike ever before. In a few bounds, he’s reached you, nuzzling his snout into your neck and stepping in as close to you as he can.

What are you doing here? His voice sounds a little frantically inside of your mind, and you physically breathe a sigh of relief.

I came to get you. You brush your hands over the top of his head tenderly, wrapping your arms around his neck and practically sinking into his soft form.

It’s dangerous here. You shouldn’t be-

Neither should you! You immediately cut him off, pulling away to stare deeply into his eyes.

The fourth brush is felt against your mind.

We need to hurry back, I only have a minute left before they pull us out. You motion behind you with your head.

How do you know which way you’re going? I’ve been lost in here for days. The furrow of his brow is clear, even while in his bear form.

You smile. I’ve got my lights to guide me home.

Instantly, you picture connecting his string to all of his brothers inside of your mind, and the way you feel the land around you begin to tremble lets you know that they’ve all felt it. Only, you have less than a minute to make it back to your bodies before they’re pulling you out.

Subtly, you notice Jongho’s eyes glance over to the low glow of the colours attached to your form. Bending down, he motions for you to craw onto his back. 

Hop on.

Without hesitation, you do.

Jongho immediately takes off into the fog, chasing those colours that drift through the air and connect you to all of them back home.

A warning screech echoes in the distance and you hear Jongho curse lowly.

Stay low to my back, the ones with wings are ruthless. He instructs, picking up his pace the slightest bit.

You do as told, clinging to his fur for dear life as Jongho races through the mist and back to that bright archway that begins to shine faintly in the distance. Luckily, you don’t see anything chasing you, but you know better than that. The faint flapping of wings, and pounding of feet upon the ground behind you lets you know that more of those creatures are giving chase, and they don’t seem to be relenting anytime soon.

With each passing second, you can see that archway getting closer and closer. Faintly, the outlines of your bodies can be seen laying on the ground, not having moved a single inch since you left them there about four and a half minutes ago. In fact, you’re positive that fifth brush will be coming at any moment now. You just hope you can both make it in time.

The second you feel that fifth brush against your mind, you go tumbling from Jongho’s back mere feet away from your body.

A frantic call of your name is heard above the hissing surrounding you, feeling pain erupt on your arms as claws dig into your flesh.

Blinking up at the creature, you see a sight that tears a shriek from your lips. It has no face, except for a jagged slit of a mouth where its chin should be. Rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth greet you as its lips pull back in a what appears to be a gleeful grin. Leathery wings protrude from its arms, it’s claws pinning you in place on the ground as your blood spills from your wounds.

The faintest hissing of the word ‘human’ on the air draws your attention. A horrid hissing that is filled with excitement the more it echoes around you by varying creatures, all of whom begin to step out of the fog and surround the two of you endlessly.

A blink, and the creature is swiped from above you, being torn in half by Jongho’s claws.

You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing through your veins as you roll over quickly to avoid another dog-like creature pouncing on top of you. Luckily, you roll right into your own side, eyes wide as you see Jongho a mere foot from you.

A frantic call of his name escapes your lips as you reach out to him, knowing you only have mere seconds before you’re pulled out of this veil and back to reality. So, you fight with everything that you are to hold on for as long as you can. Until you can feel his hand in your own.

It’s as if the word around you moves in slow motion. You begin to feel an unfamiliar tug at your mind, pulling you backwards through the archway by your head. It’s as if a hook has been placed right behind your forehead, jerking you backwards unforgivingly as Jongho shifts back into his human form. Desperately, he reaches out to you and his own body with each of his hands, fingers just brushing against your own. 

At the same time, the creatures surrounding you all lunge. Snarls sound all around you as they attempt to reach you before you can escape, hissing about not letting such a delicacy leave.

The last thing you see is a wall of creatures swarming you as you pass through the veil. You experience a brief feeling of falling, your hand tightening around something warm as you sink into the abyss surrounding you.

You close your eyes.

A gasp escapes you as your whole body jerks upwards in Yunho’s arms. Blinking a few times, you clear your vision, noticing how you seem to have slid off of the side of the bed and onto the floor. Still, Jongho’s hand in held in your own.

Your breathing is frantic as you heave air into your burning lungs, head turning every which way to gather your bearings. Yeosang rests beside you, clinging onto your opposite hand as he presses it to his forehead. The chest your back is pressed against belongs to Yunho, and you notice the others surrounding you with looks of complete worry on their features.

Your whole body aches, but you force yourself back onto the bed, much to their discontent.

“Dearest,” Yeosang reaches out to you, brushing one of his thumbs near your chin.

You shrug him off, glancing a hint of red now lining his skin.

Breaking your hold on his hand, you wipe at you nose. Pulling away reveals your own blood, and you begin to wonder just how long your nose has been bleeding for.

No wonder they all look so worried.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong kneels in beside Yeosang, placing a gentle hand onto your thigh. Though, with how badly you feel him shaking against you, you cannot tell if it’s more for him or for you at this point.

You nod, turning to face Jongho on the bed.

“I had him.” Your voice is no more than a whisper, tears leaking out of your eyes as you look down to see him still in that calm state of sleep. “He was right there.”

You practically collapse on top of him, sobs wracking your entire body as you pull your intertwined hands up to your chest. It’s faint, but you swear you feel his fingers tighten against your own.

The room is quiet around you, but it seems somewhat brighter than before. Someone must have opened the curtains to let the natural light of day in around you. It’s warm, and you swear you can feel a ray of sunlight shining directly onto your cheek as you keep your eyes closed for the moment. Warmth of which is mirrored in the way a hand tenderly caresses the back of your head.

“My Darling,” a rough voice, strained from lack of use over the past day and a half, reaches your ears. “Why are you crying?”

Your whole body freezes, breath catching in your throat as your heart skips a beat inside of your chest. Tentatively, you shift your head, peering up at him through tears which blur your vision.

A blink, and they clear, falling upon your cheeks like rain against a windowpane.

Your lower lip quivers as you watch him sit up with you in his arms, his warm, brown eyes searching your face carefully. His hand that had been gently cradling the back of your head shifts to cup the side of your face tenderly, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

A moment of stillness travels throughout the room.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve fully collapsed into his arms, a fresh round of sobs tearing from your throat. Your whole body shakes as apologies fall endlessly from your lips, hands desperately clinging onto him as if he may disappear again at any given moment.

Softly, he shushes you, cooing gentle reassurances in your ear as he rocks you back and forth while in his arms.

“I’m okay.” He keeps his voice low, holding you to him as desperately as you cling onto him. “You’re not at fault.” Your breath hitches. “You’re not at fault.”

You sob harder.

“We’ll be in the foyer.” Reina’s soft voice reaches your ears, and you assume she’s guiding both herself and Sudaem out of the room to give you all some privacy.

More apologies fall from your lips a you bury your face into the side of Jongho’s neck. With your void down for the moment due to the requirements of the spell, they can all tell that you’re no longer just apologizing to the youngest anymore, but to all of them. Yourself included.

“It’s alright, Darling.” Jongho strokes a hand tenderly down your spine as his brothers all come to sit around the edges of his bed. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s good to have you back.” Yunho nods once, quite firmly, at his younger brother. His voice is strained, and it’s not just from seeing you in such a fragile state yet again.

Jongho smiles faintly. “It’s good to be back.”

Desperately, your hands cling to the front of his shirt.

“I should have listened to you,” you’re babbling at this point, but you don’t care. “I didn’t think-“ a sharp, stuttering inhale, “you almost died because of me.”

“Hey, hey,” Jongho grabs you gently by your cheeks, pulling you away from him so you can meet your gaze. “Stop that right now. I know how worried you were about your sister. Do you not think I’ve experienced that same worry when you are threatened?” He rests his forehead against your own, staring deeply into you eyes. “It is not your fault.”

“But-“

“No ‘but’s!” He places a finger against your lips, soon beginning to wipe away the dried blood with the edge of his blanket. “I wanted to help you, to protect you, and I would gladly do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

You fall silent, fingers curling the slightest bit tighter against his shirt.

“I thought…” you squeeze your eyes shut.

A brief look is shared with his brothers around him, and his heart squeezes painfully as they divulge with him their memories of the final moments before, and shortly after, he succumbed to the spell.

Jongho’s grip tightens around your body, his voice low, “My Darling, you know I could never blame you for this.”

Your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“You are not at fault.” He breathes. “I sincerely apologize that I ever made you believe that you were.”

You shake your head, sniffling all the while.

“But I did, Darling.” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “I hurt you when you were in such a fragile state, and now you won’t stop blaming yourself for something that was completely out of your control. If anyone is to blame, it’s that fucking bitch.”

Low growls of agreement sound from around the bed.

Slowly, you begin to calm down, yet all you can do is nod your head.

“What-“ Jongho’s breath catches in his throat, “what happened while I was out?”

The whole time his brothers share with him their memories of the past thirty-three hours or so, Jongho sits on his bed completely still. You swear that he’s stopped breathing all together, his chest barely rising and falling as you continue to cling onto him for dear life.

The second you feel something wet land on your shoulder, you pull away to stare into his eyes.

Tears stream endlessly down his face, a look full of nothing but painful sorrow resting on his features.

“You-“ his voice trembles, and he can barely get the words out. “You fell.”

Again, you attempt to shake your head, “no-“

“You fell because of me.” Utter devastation suffocates his very soul, guilt beginning to rise and crush his heart from the inside out.

“It was a misunderstanding.” Your hands now rest on his shoulders as you sit in his lap, your legs resting on either side of him.

“My Darling, I am so sorry-“

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Your voice is firm as you cut him off.

“Neither do you.” He responds without a second of hesitation.

You fall silent for a moment, blinking shamefully as you avert your gaze. “Yes, I do.”

Finally, you turn to face the other seven males still in the room with you. Luckily, Jongho settles you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you to his chest for support.

Glancing upwards, you look around at the males before you.

“I apologize for what I said earlier.” Your voice trembles the slightest bit with the weight of your emotions. “I didn’t mean those words to come out the way they had, but they did. I shouldn’t have kept everything bottled up for so long inside. I should have told you, and I should have considered your own feelings towards the matter.”

“Baby,” San’s worried voice reaches your ears, his eyebrows drooping as he watches you avert your gaze to your hands.

“I should have been more honest with you all about how I was feeling.” Your thumbs begin to nervously rub over one another. “I never meant to hurt any of you.”

The males all share a brief look.

“We were all in the wrong.” Hongjoong says, words barely above a whisper. “We should have known you were barely holding it together all this time.”

“How can you know if I don’t tell you?” You exhale a low breath, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Dearest,” Yeosang goes to reach out for you before stopping himself. Almost shamefully, he retracts his hand. “I apologize for what I said to you. It wasn’t the time, nor place to dump that on you, nor was it right of me to do so.”

“But you were right.” You spare a glance upwards to see Yeosang staring down at his own hands. “By avoiding reminders of her, I had inadvertently been avoiding all of you. That’s not fair to any of you, or what each of those spaces mean to us, and I apologize that it took me this long to realize that.”

“We weren’t lying to you when we said that we would get through this together,” Wooyoung cracks a small, hesitant smile in your direction.

Softly, you nod, wiping at your eyes all the while. “I was so focused on my own trauma, I neglected your own.”

“We all deal with things in different ways.” Mingi clears his throat, bringing a hand up to dry his tears.

“That’s no excuse for what I did.” You reply. “For what I said.”

“You were right, though.” Seonghwa swallows thickly. “If that was you, we would have done whatever it takes to get you back. Consequences be damned.”

Jongho squeezes your waist slightly, assuring you that his brother speaks nothing but the truth.

“Aren’t we all a great pair,” you chuckle teasingly. “Letting our emotions always control us.”

A snort is heard from Wooyoung. “Maybe not always.”

Even his brothers shoot him playfully incredulous looks.

“Only when it comes to each other,” Hongjoong sighs, somewhat wistfully as he finally stands back to his feet.

“If you start having doubts again, or anything of the sort, you tell us right away, Baby.” San meets your gaze, a somewhat firm look shining behind his eyes. “Okay?”

“The same goes for me with all of you,” you take the time to look around at all of them once more, seeing them smile softly at you in response.

“You do not have to suffer alone, Petal,” Yunho smiles assuringly in your direction. “Your worries do not burden us at all.”

You nod, shifting off of the bed with the help of Mingi and Seonghwa.

“I guess some habits are just that hard to break.” You sigh.

“Baby steps, My Love,” Hongjoong moves over to the door, a gentle smile tugging at his features as he looks back at you. “Baby steps.”

Wiping at your eyes a final time to ensure there’s no more evidence of your tears, you begin to exit Jongho’s room. You don’t even need to look their way to know that they all follow closely behind you.

Breaching the foyer, you see both Sudaem and Reina conversing softly on one of the front couches. Both spell books rest closed on the table before them. However, as soon as Sudaem senses you, she’s hopping up from the couch, he snakes shifting almost bashfully over her head.

Her gaze darts to Jongho just off to your left. “I’m glad to see you well again, King Jongho.”

Reina stands, a small quirk to her brow.

Without wasting another moment, you walk directly over to the two women and wrap them in your arms.

“Thank you.” Your voice is low, nothing but raw gratitude seeping from your tone. “For everything.”

Softly, you feel Sudaem rubbing your back while Reina pats you gently.

“I’m glad I could help.” Sudaem whispers, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “If you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“I appreciate that,” you smile, nodding as you step away to give them both some space. “Know that the sentiment is shared.”

“Anyways, I best be going now,” Sudaem shuffles slightly on her feet, reaching over to grab her spell book from the coffee table that rests beside her. “I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Wait, how will I be able to contact you for lessons?” Reina’s eyes widen ever so slightly, and you recognize that almost desperate look shining within anywhere.

The corner of your lips quirk upwards knowingly.

“If you ever need me, send word with Stella.” Sudaem smiles, and you watch as Reina nearly swoons.

“Okay,” she nods, quite enthusiastically.

“It was lovely meeting you!” Sudaem directs the comment towards your best friend as she waves goodbye, her snakes hissing happily.

“You, too!” Reina waves back as Sudaem walks over to the guys for the moment.

“Uh, would it be okay if one of you-“

“Already on it,” Yunho smiles lightly at the gorgon, teleporting her back to her own domain in an instant. In a blink, he’s returns, straightening out the front of his shirt slightly.

“So,” you wiggle your brow teasingly at Reina, “Sudaem, huh?”

“Shut up.” Reina grumbles, pushing you playfully.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” A knowing smirk tugs at your lips as you watch your best friend avert her gaze somewhat bashfully.

“So,” Reina clears her throat, composing herself a bit better for the moment, “introductions now, or later?”

You motion to the guys with your hand, letting them decide for themselves if they’d like to introduce each other to your best friend. Your void has long since been back up, so you take the time to brush against their minds now.

Immediately, they all brush back.

“I think introductions are a great idea,” Hongjoong says, a small quirk to his lips. “After all, you helped save our brother.”

She nods, a kind look resting on her features as they all incline their heads to her in thanks.

“Hang on a second,” you lift a hand once more in a halting motion as you look at Reina. “How did you know that Yeo was what he was when he dropped me off?”

“I’ve seen portraits,” she shrugs, “but I didn’t know their names. My gran was adamant about not,” she clears her throat, nose scrunching as she prepares to imitate her grandmother, “incurring the wrath of the Eight Kings by invoking their names.”

You can’t help it, an amused snort escapes you.

“So, I recognized him, but I didn’t know which one he was until you told me his name.” She explains, to which you nod your head. “I am very interested to learn which ones are which based off of what you told me.”

Just then, a loud mewl is heard from the hallway leading to your room. A loud gasp is escaping Reina’s lips as a black cat struts into the room, tail flicking back and forth eagerly in the air.

“Is that Kuroo?” Her lips part, an excited smile pulling at her features.

Softly, Kuroo weaves his way through all of your legs, brushing languidly against both yours and Mingi’s the longest. A moment later, and he’s trotting over to Reina who bends down to extend her hand out to him. Cautiously, he sniffs at her fingers before beginning to rub his face all over her.

Giggling, she begins to scratch at his head, Kuroo beginning to purr loudly all the while.

“Well, aren’t you just the handsomest man of the hour.” She coos, chuckling as Kuroo chirps back happily in response.

“Oh, no, don’t say that.” Wooyoung sighs, almost exasperatedly. “It’ll go straight to his already overinflated head.”

“But he’s so cute!” She coos, picking him up to hold him in her arms. “And fluffy!”

A content mewl greets all of you in response.

“Kuroo is Sammy two-point-oh.” You say, watching as understanding passes over Reina’s features. “Just less of a troublemaker.”

“Ah,” she nods, rocking him gently in her arms, “I see.”

Softly, she begins cooing at him once more, and you can just tell that he’s just loving every second of it.

“Okay, so,” you quirk a brow, “introductions?”

“Oh, wait,” Reina’s lip quirks mischievously in the corner, “can I guess?”

You snort out a laugh, gaze darting to the males beside you who shrug nonchalantly. “Be my guest.”

“Hang on, there’s actually one of you who I’ve been dying to know whom is who since she told me.” She admits, eyes scanning over all of them. “I know him,” she motions to Yeosang with her chin seeing as she holds onto Kuroo for the moment, “but which one of you is Yunho, the painter?”

Said male’s brows raise slightly in amusement, waving his hand to indicate that he is who she’s looking for.

“I would give you a thumbs up, but my hands are full,” she chuckles. “Either way, nice.” An approving nod is sent his way. “So far, you’re my favourite.”

The looks all several of his brothers send him in mild disbelief has a laugh falling from your lips.

“It was the portrait, wasn’t it?” You turn to look at Reina, a grin tugging at your features.

“Literally, why isn’t it hanging right there?” She shifts Kuroo over to her one arm, motioning to the central wall behind the front desk. “Guy paints what is presumably the most beautiful portrait of a gorgeous lady you’re all in love with, and you can’t even display it in your front foyer?”

Reina tuts, shaking her head teasingly.

“Don’t give them any ideas,” you whisper lowly.

Mingi tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment. “She does have a point.”

“See!” Reina replies, somewhat exasperatedly. “The cat dad understands!”

“Cat dad?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“Are you not Mingi? The one who got this little rascal for her?” Reina pats Kuroo lightly on the butt, receiving a small whine from the cat in response.

“I am.” He confirms. “How did you-“

“He rubbed against you the longest out of all of you,” she blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. In the next moment, she pulls the cat away to brush her nose against his own, a teasing lilt to her voice, “besides his mommy.”

A hand comes up to muffle your laughter as you hear Kuroo complaining loudly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed. He jumps down from Reina’s hold quite quickly after that, strutting away back down the hallway and towards you room.

You walk over to Reina, flinging an arm around her shoulders as you lean on her teasingly for support.

“Okay, so,” you grin, “You technically know four of them.”

“That I do,” she hums, gaze briefly darting over to meet Jongho’s. She sends him a polite smile, noticing how he nods briefly back. “Let’s see, we’ve got the cook, the dancer, the tailor, and the one who should have told you he liked playing with knives sooner.”

At her words, Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches.

“Ah-ha!” She points at him, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “So, you’re the one she got with the steak knife.”

A snort of laughter is heard from Wooyoung at this, and even Yeosang, San, and Mingi all have a hard time suppressing their chuckles.

“You’re lucky, then,” Reina continues, a devious look shining behind her eyes as he quirks a brow. Despite your attempts to stop her, she holds you off from covering her mouth. “Normally, she just threatens to stab you instead.”

“Reina,” your voice is a bit exasperated as you whine out her name.

Despite the fact that they all quirk their brows in some way, Wooyoung looks the most visibly eager to learn more.

“What else does she threaten to do to people?” He leans the slightest bit forward, excitement gleaming in his gaze. Though, he knows that he’s not the only one dying to know.

“Well, not so much actually threaten, but she has very vivid rants about certain people.” Reina hums knowingly. “My ex is one of them.”

“Yeah, well,” you turn to look at her. “He deserves to get his dick ripped off and shoved down his throat for what he did to you.”

“Case in point,” Reina chuckles knowingly, motioning to you beside her with her hand. “Though, I’d say that was one of your more tamer ones. Wouldn’t you?”

You shrug lightly, a slight hum escaping you.

“Anyways,” she turns her attention back to the three remaining males she’s yet to identify. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re the dancer,” she points at San, “he’s handsy,” she points to Wooyoung, “and you’re the ‘pretty boy’.”

Seonghwa’s eyes look as if they’re ready to fall out of his head for the second time that day as both Wooyoung and you burst out laughing.

“Oh, you were doing so well, too.” You pat her on the back.

Lowly, Seonghwa begins to grumble about being referred to as handsy once more, crossing his arms over his chest. A large pout tugs at his features all the while as his brothers all chuckle around him.

“It was one time!” He frowns.

“Oh, it was more than once,” the corner of your lips quirk upwards in a knowing grin. At the way his pout deepens, you’re quick to add, “I never said I didn’t like it.”

“Ew!” Reina slaps your arm teasingly. “There are children present!”

“Children?” Yeosang quirks an amused brow.

“Yeah,” Reina snorts. “Me!”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes. “Who was it that called me to drive her to the ER because she got her-“

A hand is slapped over your mouth quite suddenly, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. Not even a moment later, her face is contorting in disgust as she pulls her hand away, wiping her palm on your sleeve, seeing as you licked her.

“You are gross.” She sticks her tongue out at you.

“You love it.” You playfully bat your eyelashes at her in response.

“Yeah, yeah,” teasingly, she gives you a light shove while rolling her eyes.

None of the males across from you can prevent the way loving smiles pull at their features as they watch you interact with you best friend. It seems as if the more time you spend with her, the more you relax. A fact of which they could not be happier about. Besides, you seem to be having fun.

“Anyways, you’re half right about Woo being handsy number two, though,” you motion to the aforementioned male with your chin.

“Hey!” He whines, a dramatic pout tugging at his features.

“You’re still in second place, Sunshine.” You grin fondly, mirth dancing behind your gaze as you meet his own.

“Oh, damn,” Reina says. “I really screwed up at the end there.”

“You were off by one each, if you rotated them to the left,” you pat her back assuringly.

“My bad,” she smiles somewhat nervously.

“At least you didn’t say Mingi was the cook,” San grins, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Hey!” Said male whines.

“To be fair, I thought he was handsy at first,” Reina shrugs.

Yunho immediately bursts out laughing, slapping Mingi on his back as the younger male begins to turn bright red.

“He definitely could be,” Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head somewhat fondly.

“If you think I’m bad with my fantasies…” Wooyoung trails off, immediately taking off down the hallway as the elder male begins to chase after him.

Reina laughs, looping her arm around your waist. “I can tell it’s never a dull moment with these guys.”

“You have no idea.” You smile lovingly at them, seeing the way Kuroo now chases after Wooyoung, too, with Mingi in tow.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” she turns her head to you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Wanna give me a tour of the house?”

[pinkbubbles06]

Rosekiller Headcannons:

Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Some of these are my own and others are ones I agree with so if some seem familiar that’s why lol. Enjoy!!!!!! Gosh I love them so much. I need like a semi canonical fic of them stat.

* I like to think that Barty was the sweetest of souls when he was younger, but the constant abuse from his father and the cold world damaged him a lot. He also is bipolar so ya know…. Uhhh… yeah…😅

* Barty has long and slender fingers and it would always drive Evan nuts when Barty would wear rings on his hands and nervously play with them

* Barty also developed a tick/constant habit of darting hit tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips. Evan never learned why he did it but found it oddly endearing.

* I feel like Barty couldn't fall asleep without like a million pillows. Unless he had Evan. He would have the best sleep of his life when he slept with Evan.

* Barty will Call Evan Dimples

* The Infamous Three™ know French so they talk in it when they want to say shit about other people.

Evan knows German but rarely uses it.

Barty knows Italian and oh boy, his Italian. Evan got so hard the first time Barty started talking in Italian that he thought he was going to cream his pants. Barty talks in Italian when he drinks which is Evan's worst nightmare since Barty becomes even more flirty when drunk. Every time Barty calls him "mio amato" (my beloved), Evan MELTS (he stills swears he is straight™ and not completely in love with Barty).

When Barty wants to talk about Evan without being pried on, he talks on Italian. Reg knows Spanish and they make it work.

* Barty is Scottish and Evan is French.

* Barty picked up a bunch of languages by the age of 15 because his father decided it was mandatory for his son. (Crouch Sr. canonically knows around 200 languages)

* barty loves the snow. he could spend hours out in the cold without a warming charm if it weren't for his friends getting onto him about him possibly getting sick. he loves sledding down the hills at hogwarts, racing his friends to see who wins. he always does. he also likes snowball fights, building a snowman, and making snow angels. it was something him and his mother cherished so he likes to bask in those precious memories when he can.

* conversely, evan hates snow. his faces crinkles up at the sight of it. he makes sure he bundles himself up and uses warming charms as much as he can. most of the time he sits watching his friends enjoy the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. then barty just shows up with that damned smile of his, his eyes full of wonder at the snow falling down. barty will shoot him a grin just before he throws a snowball. sure, evan hates the snow, but he does genuinely appreciate how happy it makes his boyfriend.

* it is a matter of fact that Barty and Evan spoiled each other constantly, with materialistic things or with kisses and hugs.

* Evan’s birthday is June 20th

* Barty loved to doodle. He would sometimes just grab a marker or something and gently and carefully draw on Evan’s hands or arms. Whichever was easiest to doodle on at the time.

* Barty is secretly a book worm and could talk for days on end to Evan about what he reads.

* Evan isn't much of a reader but he will read anything if Barty suggests it to him, because he absolutely loves seeing him ramble. Barty will also annotate books for him when he borrows them. Don’t get him started on the love poems.

* Barty is so smart. But like in the doesn't need to try smart - tests come easy to him sort of smart

* Evan is completely and totally scared of all bugs ever, and he has to get reg or barty to kill them when they get into the dorm. Barty will sometimes terrorize him by bring the bug really close to him in his hand. Evan screams bloody murder every time. Barty gets such a kick out of it lol.

* When someone asks Barty if he wants something to eat, he’ll say ‘you’ in a deadpan tone (mainly to Evan)

* Evan is possessive as fuck, he will actually glare anyone down that even looks in Barty's direction and will proceed to plan a murder.

* Evan was just a little bit more unhinged than Barty was at Hogwarts. But after school, and after he was a legal adult, Barty let loose and they were both unhinged together!!😁

* Barty and Evan share beds a ton, and the first time it happened was because Barty was having a hard day and Evan snuck in and held him through the night,

* Barty also has nightmares and instinctively looks for evan when he wakes up; Evan is always there

* Barty secretly proposed to Evan when they were 16. No one knew about it. Ever. And no one could ever tell because they almost always both wore rings. So they were engaged until Evan died, because they never got to get married because of all the “no gay marriage!!” In the 70s/80s

* I like to think Barty fell first but when Evan fell for him too Barry’s love grew deeper once he had him. So basically he fell first and he also fell harder.

* Barty never holds people's hands, he just wraps his fingers around their wrist. Friends or Lovers.

Evan has no idea why, maybe it's a preference or something?

Barty actually does it to check if the person he's with has a pulse and is real, a small reassurance for his anxiety

* evan has blue eyes, and barty collects sea rocks or flowers when they match the color perfectly. He’s kinda like a crow that way. He will find things that remind him of Evan, or that make him think of him, and he will give them to Evan. He keeps every single one.

* Barty has deep emerald green eyes.

* Evan adores it when Barty runs his fingers through his hair. He gets shivers down his spine every time.

* They both actively tried to summon ghosts

* Evan has like really bad circulation so he's like ALWAYS cold. And Barty is always a furnace

* Barty would often just bite Evan’s shoulder. Evan eventually go a tattoo of Barry’s bite marks on his left shoulder.

* Harley Quinn and Barty Crouch Jr. are interchangeable and you cannot convince me otherwise.

* Like, “what’s that I should kill everyone and escape? oh sorry, it’s the voices… I’m kidding!!! that’s not what they actually said.”

* Evan would often put his hand on Barry’s throat and Barty lived for every second of it. The Horny Bastard.

* I just know that Barty and Evan had so many dramatic break ups over the pettiest things

* They did it so they could have hate sex🤣🤣

* Barty would always tell Evan that he hopes that he would die first. He always said he never wanted to live in a world where Evan wasn’t in it….

* The skittles(Barty, Evan, Reggie, Panda, and Dorcas) all made an unbreakable vow that only death would do them part… and it did…

* Everyone thinks that they can’t stand each other when in public, but alone, or just with their friends, they are literally unbearable

* Evan wears baggy clothes and Barty wears tight clothes. Fight me on this.

* Also Evan has the sluttiest waist known to mankind.

* The fist Slytherin party that Evan actually danced at, he was so insecure. So Barty convinced him that no one was looking at Evan and that they were just looking at Barty. And after a few drinks, Barty had convinced Evan of that and he just let lose. And holy shit were they hot together. Kinda like the song by Sabrina carpenter if u know what I mean….

* Like, Barty would say “They aren’t even looking at you Ev, they’re looking at me.” Then Evan would say, “But I don’t want them to look at you Barty.”

* Evan took his shirt off a few times at a couple of party’s and literally all eyes were on him but he didn’t care cus Barty was there, Hands tightly secured to his waist and glaring at anyone who even glanced at Evan.

* Barty is a pyromaniac, and when that happens only Dorcas and Pandora can settle it. Evan can too but he usually just enables him🤣

* When Evan goes missing it doesn’t take Barty long to figure out he is dead. It totally sent him off the deep end and caused him to put all of his devotion into the only thing he had left, Voldemort.

* Also, once he found out Evan was dead he went straight to Pandora. She was the only one of their friends would would even think about talking to him. He was miserable, he wouldnt leave his room at Pandoras house for days.

* I am also completely convinced that Bartemius Crouch Sr had Evan assassinated after he found out about him and Barty.

* Like you know how canonically moody was trying to take him prisoner, but Evan was fighting so damn hard that Moody had to kill him. I think that was his order along. You can’t convince me otherwise. that is what happened.

* When he is posing as Moody, Barty finds out about this and kills his dad because of it. And also because of the god awful abuse. Duh.🙄

* Also, a little before torturing Alice and Frank Longbottom, Barty tried to obliviate himself so he would just forget Evan and Regulus because the pain of losing them was too much. In his attempt, because his emotions were so high, he messed it up and he went insane. This also caused him to hallucinate Evan and Regulus. The hallucinations of them were the ones who convinced him that Alice and Frank killed Evan. (Barty already knew how Regulus died.)

* Regulus told Kreature to tell Evan and Barty how he died, knowing they would keep his secret. And they did until they died.