#i need breaks from being one thing for too long i need more cycles
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Things are bad right now.
As many of you know, way back in 2020 we weren’t sure if our business was gonna make it. Our factory was already on break for Lunar New Year–a month-long holiday for many businesses in the area–and with the announcement of COVID19, everything shut down indefinitely. We knew immediately we were in for a bad time. Despite our fears, our sales grew so far beyond anything we ever expected, to the point where we had to hire two employees just to keep up with demand!
Unfortunately, even after our factory reopened, our problems were not over. Their quality drastically declined almost immediately, to the point that a significant amount of our fabric would literally fall apart in transit between the factory and our office. Because of this, we discovered that our sales rep had no idea what she was doing and knew nothing about the factory she was representing, so when we told her the fabric was garbage her response was “👍 factory said it’s good!” At the beginning, only roughly 10% of our new product was defective and we were able to sell the affected items with a reasonable discount. By the end of our relationship with that factory, 40% of our midi skirts and 70% of our miniskirts were defective, some affected so severely that they practically fell apart when touched. And still, our rep said everything was fine and there were no problems and the fabric composition had not changed.
So in 2022 we changed factories. We hired Ash to handle this since I was way too busy managing fulfillment to do the amount of research and communication necessary to find us a factory that met our criteria. Finding clothing factories that can make clothing over a size 2-3X is significantly more difficult than one that can’t because it often requires larger and more expensive machinery. But Ash did it: she got us set up with a new factory that has excellent certifications for both their labor practices and their methods for textile production, that delivers consistent, high quality sewing on well made fabric that can be printed without suffering loss in detail–and she was armored with the knowledge for what makes a quality garment so she could check them if they tried to screw us on quality. Their minimum orders were way higher than our previous factory’s, so we decided to focus on ordering more units of fewer designs. We ordered way too much our first round–some of those designs were in stock until the 2024 blowout sale! But it worked out, and slowly we had a warehouse full of stuff to sell.
Fast forward to 2024, business is slowing down between the economy being bad and what seemed to be a general skirt fatigue amongst our customers. We tried expanding into shirts, which would’ve been successful if our minimums were lower. In the late spring we realized we were in trouble if we didn’t make drastic changes and we ultimately decided to end in-house fulfillment and transfer to a third party fulfillment center that would support domestic shipping in Canada and eventually the UK, EU, and Australia. In order to make that transition affordable we drastically discounted everything and that sale was super successful! We were able to begin shipping from the fulfillment center with an almost clean slate, even if it did mean having to close the store for almost two months and thereby missing out on two very important months of sales.
Unfortunately, we were stupid. We continued to order new designs on an every other month schedule instead of switching to an every month schedule, forgetting that having a backstock in a variety of designs is what previously helped us float between orders and now we quite literally didn’t have enough inventory to match the sales we made for last year’s holiday sale.
That brings us to now.
We’re a little stuck. We have a round of skirts in production (yay!) but they won’t get here until February (boo!). To get back on that monthly cycle we would need to order the next round of skirts right now, but we can’t pay for production until that next round of skirts gets here; if the current sale goes well, it’s paying payroll, not production. We are currently in the very difficult, horrible situation of not having enough money for next month’s payroll unless we are somehow able to make significant sales with our very sparse inventory.
We’re scrappy and we do our best to adapt to disasters and I’m sure we’ll find a way to adapt to this one as well, it’ll just take us some time to get there. Basically we’re going to be okay eventually–hopefully later this year–but in the meantime if we seem frantic, now you know why.
If you’re been considering trying out our viscose shirts but haven’t been able to justify paying full price, they’re on clearance PLUS half off right now! That’s $9-$15 for the viscose tops, and other tops on clearance are $20-$45. Some of the shirts we’re having a LOT of trouble selling are now priced below cost to help us recoup some of the money we spent making them.
Any amount of support helps right now. Sharing posts, telling your friends, buying a $9 shirt–all of it helps. If our clothing isn’t your thing, we also have a Patreon you can support for as little as $1 a month. https://www.patreon.com/mayakern
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day and that 2025 is a brighter, kinder year for us all.
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unanswered
pairing: tara carpenter and reader
summary: you break the cycle of being the second choice.
wordcount: 3.1k
tara <3 (10:27pm)
i miss you.
can you come over?
sam's not home.
You stared at the messages for a moment, a mix of emotions churning in your chest.
It wasn't the first time Tara had texted you like this—far from it.
Every couple of weeks, when the night stretched out too long and too quiet, she reached out to you. It had become a pattern, one you were all too familiar with.
You knew why she was texting.
It wasn't because she was lonely, at least not in the way you wished she was.
Tara was thinking about Amber.
Amber, who had her wrapped around her finger. You knew how Tara saw her, like she was something special, someone Tara wanted more than anything.
But Amber. Amber only wanted Tara when it suited her, when she needed someone to make her feel powerful, desired.
When Amber wasn't around, Tara turned to you. You were the one who picked up the pieces, who made her feel wanted when Amber didn't care to.
You knew it wasn't about love, not for Tara—not like you wanted it to be. It was about comfort, about filling the void Amber left behind when she was off doing her own thing.
But every time Tara texted, asking you to come over, you went.
You told yourself you'd resist, that this time you wouldn't give in, but the moment you saw her name on your screen, all your resolve crumbled.
Because for those few hours, you got to be the one she wanted, the one she needed, even if it was just physical. Even if it wasn't enough.
You typed out a quick reply, agreeing to come over, even though you knew how it would end. You would be there for her that night, but tomorrow or the next day, Amber would come back, and you would be forgotten, left waiting for the next time Tara needed you.
As you headed to her place, you thought about how it would go.
She would open the door, looking relieved, like she had been waiting for you. You would follow her inside, and before long, she'd be pulling you close, her hands desperate, her lips searching.
And you'd give in, just like you always did, because in those moments, it almost felt like she wanted you, like she needed you.
But in the back of your mind, you knew the truth. You weren't her first choice—Amber was.
You were the one she turned to when Amber wasn't there, when she needed someone, anyone, to fill the space Amber left behind.
And when Amber did want Tara, everything changed.
The texts stopped coming. You sent her messages, trying to check in, to see how she was doing, but they went unanswered.
It was like you didn't exist. Tara disappeared into Amber's world, wrapped up in her like nothing else mattered.
And when you finally did hear from her, it was a curt response, a text saying she wasn't ready for a relationship, that inviting you over had been a mistake. The words stung, even though you had heard them before.
Then the next day, you saw them at school, Tara and Amber, tangled together like they were the only people in the world.
Amber's arm was slung around Tara's shoulders, and Tara was laughing, looking at Amber like she was the only one that mattered.
You watched from a distance, that familiar ache gnawing at your insides, knowing that you were just caught in a loop—a constant cycle that never seemed to end.
You told yourself you'd stop. That the next time Tara reached out, you wouldn't go. But you knew the truth. You'd go, every time, because for those few hours, she was yours, even if it was all a lie.
And maybe, just maybe, you'd let yourself believe that this time, things would be different.
————
It wasn't different.
After leaving Tara's place, you had gone home late at night, slipping out quietly once she had fallen asleep.
The routine was almost ritualistic, carved into your brain. Waiting until the room was silent, then making your way back into the solitude of your own space.
Sleep had been elusive, haunted by the warmth of her presence and the cold reality of your situation.
The night before had been a predictable spiral of emotions. Amber had been ignoring Tara's messages for three long days. Tara had tried repeatedly to reach out, her texts becoming increasingly desperate and tinged with frustration.
Amber's silence had left her feeling raw and abandoned. The usual pattern of their volatile relationship had taken its toll on Tara.
When Tara reached out to you, she had come to you with that familiar blend of vulnerability and need.
It had begun with her confiding in you about Amber's absence, her frustration palpable.
She had spoken of feeling neglected and unwanted, her words mingling with tears as she expressed how Amber's disregard had left her feeling empty.
As the evening wore on, her need for reassurance had grown more intense.
Tara had sought out your touch as if trying to fill the void left by Amber's absence. Her need for physical closeness was almost desperate, driven by the emotional turmoil she was experiencing.
But even as you gave her what she asked for, you knew it was a temporary fix. You were there to soothe the pain and fulfill her need for affection, but you weren't the one she truly wanted.
The next morning, you found yourself at school, moving through the halls with heavy steps, lack of sleep and with that same old sense of anticipation mixed with dread.
You kept checking your phone, hoping for a message from Tara—a simple acknowledgment of what you shared the night before, anything to suggest that she felt something more.
But the screen remained dark, and with each passing hour, the silence grew louder, echoing the realization that you were still just a momentary distraction in her life.
During a break between classes, you walked through the corridor, your mind preoccupied.
That's when you saw them.
Tara and Amber.
They stood by the lockers. Tara was laughing, her face lit with a joy you hadn't seen since the last time Amber had returned.
And then there was Amber, her arm casually slung around Tara, claiming her with the ease of someone who knew they were wanted.
As you walked past, Tara's eyes caught yours for the briefest of moments.
There was something in her expression—an almost imperceptible flicker of guilt or perhaps regret—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
She looked away, her attention snapping back to Amber, who seemed completely unaware of the tension that had passed between you.
It stung. The way she could so easily disconnect from what had happened between you, the way she could just switch off her emotions and return to Amber as if nothing had changed.
You tried to push the feeling aside, to focus on your classes, but it lingered, a bitter reminder that, no matter how much you wanted things to be different, they never would be.
As the day wore on, you sent another text to Tara, hoping for some form of acknowledgment or a sign that things might be different.
When school ended and you headed home, the ache of being a second choice weighed on you.
The cycle was all too familiar: Tara's need for you when Amber wasn't available, and the emptiness that followed when Amber reappeared.
Each time you allowed yourself to hope for something more, you were met with the same cycle of anticipation and disappointment.
In the quiet of your room, you found yourself once again waiting for the next time Tara might reach out, even though you knew how it would end.
The hope that things might change felt increasingly fragile.
As night fell, the familiar loneliness crept in, settling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't shake the memory of her touch, the way she had clung to you just hours before.
The emptiness of your room felt suffocating, amplifying the silence that had stretched on throughout the day.
You reached for your phone, staring at the screen, battling with yourself.
You knew you shouldn't reach out, knew it would only lead to more heartache. But the need for some kind of connection, any connection, gnawed at you. The words you wanted to say swirled in your mind—questions, reassurances, anything to pull her back toward you, even for just a moment.
Finally, you gave in, typing out something that almost seemed too desperate, even for you.
i don't want to bother you, but i just dont get why u can't answer.
Your thumb hovered over the send button, hesitating for a moment, knowing that sending it might only lead to more disappointment.
But the need for her to acknowledge you, even in the smallest way, was too strong to resist. You hit send, the message slipping into the void, joining the countless others that had been left unaddressed.
You scrolled to the last message you'd sent earlier.
i miss you. can we talk?
It still sat there, unanswered, just like so many others.
Then, the waiting began—each passing minute feeling like an eternity as you stared at your phone, hoping for the familiar buzz that would signal a reply.
The hope that she might respond, that things might be different this time, felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. But still, you clung to it, knowing that even the smallest sign from her would be enough to keep you holding on.
A few hours later, just as you were beginning to lose hope, your phone buzzed in your hand.
Your heart leapt, but the anticipation quickly turned to dread as you read Tara's reply.
tara <3 (11:49pm)
can you stop? i don't want to do this anymore. i don't want anything to do with you.
You stared at Tara's message, trying to process the harshness of her words.
They were unlike anything she had sent before—usually, it was as simple as her saying she wasnt ready for a relationship, or an apologetic excuse.
But tonight, her response was stark and final, a sharp difference to the usual uncertainty.
The weight of her words settled heavily, and the familiar ache of being a backup choice intensified.
You had been through this cycle countless times: waiting for her, hoping for something more, only to be pushed aside when Amber reappeared.
But this time, something felt different—more definitive, more cutting.
The message wasn't just a dismissal; it felt like a cold rejection, an end to the hope you'd been clinging to.
It stung, more than you wanted to admit, especially because it was a departure from her usual way of handling things.
This wasn't about being unsure or wanting space—it was a clear, unambiguous statement that she didn't want you in her life, at least not right now.
You were tired of the endless cycle, the emotional rollercoaster that left you waiting for her next move, only to be met with the same predictable outcome.
The frustration and hurt mingled with a reluctant clarity. It was time to accept that this wasn't going to change, that hoping for more only led to deeper disappointment.
As you set your phone down, the finality of her words clung to you.
It was a painful realization, but perhaps it was a necessary one.
The time had come to stop being her second choice, to stop waiting for a sign that things might be different.
The message was a harsh reminder that you deserved more than the fragments of attention she had been offering.
____
The following days passed quietly.
Tara didn't reach out—not a single message, not even a glance in the hallways at school.
The silence was new, unsettling in its finality, but surprisingly, you found yourself adjusting quicker than you expected.
Maybe it was because you had set your mind to it, determined to break the cycle that had kept you stuck for so long.
You stayed busy, filling the spaces where your thoughts might have wandered back to her.
It wasn't easy, but it felt different this time—like there was a real shift in the way you handled it. Each day that passed without hearing from her was a small victory, proof that you could move forward, even if it still hurt.
But what struck you the most was the time. It had never passed this long without Tara reaching out to you.
In the past, the silence might last a day or two at most, and then you'd see her name on your phone, pulling you back into the familiar rhythm. But now, the days stretched on, and with each one, the possibility of her return seemed to slip further away.
You couldn't help but wonder if Amber had finally come around, realized her own behavior, and decided to commit to Tara in the way she had always craved.
Maybe that's why Tara hadn't reached out—because this time, Amber wasn't pushing her away. Maybe this time, Amber was staying.
You thought this was the end.
Maybe in a way, you even wanted it to be over.
The endless cycle of being Tara's second choice had drained you, and a clean break, painful as it was, seemed like the only way to move forward. If Amber had finally come through for Tara, then maybe you could let go for good.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
It was late on a Saturday night when your phone buzzed again. At first, you didn't even check it—assuming it was just a notification, something unimportant. But then, another buzz, and the vibration against your nightstand was impossible to ignore.
You glanced over, already knowing who it was before you even saw the name.
Tara.
The message sat there, glowing up from the screen in the dark of your room, cutting through the false sense of peace you'd managed to create. For a moment, you didn't want to open it. You didn't want to see what she had to say, because you knew where it would lead. It was never simple with Tara—it was always a pull, always a need that brought you back, even when you knew better.
But your fingers moved anyway, unlocking the phone and opening the message.
tara (2:03am)
are u awake?
Three simple words, but they were enough to unravel everything.
Enough to remind you that maybe you weren't as far gone from her grasp as you had hoped.
You didn't need to ask. You could already guess the situation.
Amber was probably at some party again, the kind where Tara was never invited, where Amber went alone and never bothered to check if Tara wanted to come along.
You could picture it perfectly—Amber's social media lighting up with photos and stories, flashing images of her having the time of her life, surrounded by people, as if Tara didn't exist.
Tara had always hated that. You knew the jealousy had probably started to build, slowly at first, until it reached a point where Tara couldn't take it anymore, and now she was turning to you.
Again.
It was always the same. Amber made her feel small, invisible, and then Tara reached out to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.
And you'd always been there—like a lifeline she could tug on when the weight of Amber's indifference got too heavy. But this time, something in you snapped. You were tired. Tired of being the backup plan, tired of picking up the pieces whenever Amber shattered her.
You didn't want to do it anymore.
Not this time.
The routine had become suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest, and every time you gave in, it only added to the ache.
You could feel the familiar pull of her message, but instead of giving in, there was a resistance in you, stronger than before.
This wasn't your mess to clean up anymore. You were tired of being the person Tara came to when things didn't go her way with Amber. Tired of being her second choice, the one she used when her first option failed her.
Your heart sank as you stared at her message, knowing what she wanted, what she was asking for without even having to say it. And for the first time, you realized that you didn't have the energy to give her what she wanted. You didn't have it in you to be that person for her anymore.
You didn't answer.
For the first time, you just let the message sit there, ignored. You couldn't bring yourself to respond. Not this time.
Your phone buzzed again, and then again, as Tara's messages came through in rapid succession, each one more desperate than the last.
i'm sorry.
i didn't mean what i said.
please, i'm so sorry.
i do want you. i swear, i do.
The notifications kept lighting up your screen, each one tugging at that old part of you, the part that always responded, always showed up when she needed you.
But you didn't open them. Not tonight. You stared at her words, feeling a familiar ache in your chest, but this time it was mixed with something else—resolve. You knew what this was. You knew it was the same cycle playing out all over again, and you were tired of it.
She kept sending more messages, fragments of apologies, excuses, trying to pull you back in.
please talk to me.
i miss u.
please don't ignore me
i need you.
But you couldn't do it. Not anymore. You let the phone buzz, let her words pile up without an answer, because this time, you weren't going to be the one who gave in.
The ache in your chest tightened, but this time it wasn't enough. You weren't going to be pulled back into the same pattern. Not again.
You felt your thumb hover over the screen, hesitating for only a moment before tapping to block her number. It wasn't easy, but it felt like the only thing left to do.
The silence that followed was deafening, the buzzing of your phone replaced with an emptiness that was almost worse. Almost.
But there was also a strange sense of relief. It wasn't the closure you wanted, but it was the closure you needed. For the first time, you chose yourself. You chose to let go.
And as the night stretched on, you found a quiet peace in the stillness, knowing that this time;
you wouldn't be waiting for her anymore.
#jenna ortega x reader#mabel x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#vada cavell x reader#wednesday addams x reader#melissa barrera x reader#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader
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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:
Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.
Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.
I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.
I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.
Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.
So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.
Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.
What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.
So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .
honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.
if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.
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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, period cramps, suguru takes a bath with you, they all refuse to let you walk, pouty reader with Kento because I for one am emotional over tiny things during that time and kento being sweet with me would be everything, making s’mores with Satoru, full of kisses adoration and cuddles, for when you need cuddles and a bath, nap and cuddles or chocolate and cuddles
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Hi! May I request Suguru with a fem aligned reader (if u do write that but if not, gn is also ok!) who is on their monthly cycle? cramps r hell rn and I need some comfort.
Oreo: Hope this helps 🫶🏽 sorry I couldn't get this out sooner, I wanted to do more characters because I've been in the mood for some comfort too
𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
Slowly peeling the covers back, gently lifting you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. “Poor Princess, I hate seeing you like this.” You grimace, furrowing your brows. “Sorry my love for moving you.” Covering your cheek in soft kisses.
He doesn't stop until you’re smiling from the sweet attack. “Got our bath ready, the warmth and water should help ease the flow.” Getting lost in his captivating tender warm chocolate eyes.
“Our bath?”
The softness of his voice soothing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't hold you when you’re cramping? I was thinking I would wash us off afterward, carry you back to bed.” Kissing his hard pec, resting your head against his warm chest, closing your eyes.
You’ve never had someone talk to you with such gentle kindness, look at you with such adoring love or tenderly touch you until Suguru. “You’re better than I deserve.”
“You deserve only the best, and I'm going to give it to you.” Carefully sitting you down on a towel covering the counter protecting you from the cold. Holding your arms up for Suguru to slip the baggy shirt off.
Lifting you off the counter, steadying you on your feet. “You are the best.”
“That’s why I’m your’s.” Pushing your underwear down, for you to step out of. Kissing above your pubic line, gently rubbing in soft circles where you’re cramping the most. After a year of living together he knows your body well.
Using paper tissues to toss your pad in the trash. Lifting you off your feet, cradling you lowering you into the warm, bubble bath. It's the perfect temperature, the water lapping at the back of your neck easing some of your head’s tension.
The bubbles reaching above your head, you have to make a small space otherwise be consumed whole. “You look beautiful and cozy.” Letting out a gentle sigh, the warmth and muscular relaxer soothing your aches.
“This is wonderful, thank you darling.” Suguru slips his sweats down, folding them up to set on the counter. Leaning forward he whips his feet off in the mat, stepping in behind. Carefully sitting down, pulling you into his lap.
Closing your eyes resting your head listening to the music. His chest rumbles when he sings, “Whatever words I say I will always love you, I will always love you, whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am free again.” Kissing the top of your head.
“Your voice sounds like heaven. I want to record you singing, I can listen to it to fall asleep when you’re working late.” Looking up at Suguru’s face, he smiling down at you.
The soft curve of his lips, the love in his eyes, this is what it’s like to be treasured by someone. “Which songs do you want me to sing for you my love?”
𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨
Resting on his chest, eyes closed listening to Kento’s comforting voice reading. “Traveling down the thin winding path, not yet reclaimed by the forest’s growth. Breaking into a small clearing, displaying a partly dilapidated house. Part of the original brick structure standing tall still.” He pauses to flip the page, looking down at you.
Smiling at how you’d fallen asleep on his chest. Grabbing the long thin bookmark you gotten him. Slipping it between the pages, closing the book, setting it aside.
Checking the heating pad, gently making sure it's in place. Carefully lifting the blanket over you, covering you up to your neck. Slipping his glasses off, laying his head down on the pillow behind him. Closing his eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment.
Your cramps had been persisting all morning, at last you were comfortable enough to fall asleep. He loves your soft warm body resting in top of his. The safety in knowing you’re protected, happy and at peace.
The sun has set by the time Kento wakes up. “My love?” Kissing the top of your head. Massaging your stomach and sides. “Wake up I need to get dinner started, I'll get you cozy in the bed with the heading pad.” He peels the blanket back, grabbing the now cold heading pad setting it aside.
Shifting on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Kento carefully fixes the blanket on yo. Wrapping his arm around you, slowly standing up. “What are you craving?”
Pouting whining in frustration, “I dunno! I'm hungry but I don't know what I want. I don't want you to leave me alone.” Cupping the back of your head, swiping his thumb in small circles. His gentle touch soothing your emotional turmoil.
“Take out it is you can look at what you want and take your time there’s no rush. I'll carrying you to and from the door to get the food.” Nudging the bedroom door open with his foot. He knows the bedroom by memory.
Carrying you with one arm, pulling the covers back, laying you down then flicks on the lamp. “We need to make sure we get you something yummy.” Kento kisses your forehead. “Lemme get your heating pad and my phone.”
Kento isn't gone long coming back into the room. He’s beautiful with his blond hair falling across his thin framed glasses. You like them more than his green and silver ones that hide the beautiful dark coffee brown shade of his warm, gentle, tired eyes.
Slipping into underneath the covers, holding his arms out for you to climb slowly onto his lap. Resting your chest on his chest craving the skin to skin.
Placing the heating pad on your stomach, grabbing the near by covers and covering you both. “Comfortiable beautiful?”
𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
You have a wonderful view of Satoru in a tight black shirt splitting open firewood with a wooden axe. You’d insisted a cabin in the woods because you pouted about being around other people was a bit extreme. Now that you’re here with no one else but Satoru for miles around it’s peaceful and necessary.
The view of his arms flexing when bringing the axe through the wood catching your attention. Almost distracting you from the monthly fit your body is throwing from not getting knocked up by Satoru.
Loading the logs into the pit. He points his fingers at it, looks up at the window and smiles. Could he really spark the firepit without destroying the ground around it?
You eyes widen. There’s a flash of light and boom fire errupts from the pit. Arching towards the sky, settling down, gradually getting lower as it consumes the wooden logs.
Blowing off the his finger gun proud of himself. Then vanishing out of site as he comes into the cabin. Slipping back outside covering the bench in several blankets and the throw pillows from the sofa. The bringing out a plate with a roasting stick.
Dipping back into the house Satoru bursts into the bedroom, grinning widely. “It’s s’mores time! Cuddles, a crackling fire underneath the stars your wonderful boyfriend feeding you chocolate you might be cramping but that has to help a little right?
“Can’t think anything sweeter, other than getting some kisses from my Sugarbear.” Satoru climbs onto the bed, hovering over you carefully not to let his weight crush you. Softly kissing your nose, cheeks, forehead and lips. You can feel his smile in the gentle curve of his lips.
Wrapping your legs around him, parting your lips for his tongue. You crave Satoru’s slow, sweet romantic kisses more than air. Slipping your fingers through his short undercut into his fluffy hair.
Squeezing your sides lifting you off the bed. Refusing to break away, he’s lost in your soft lips whimpering into the kiss. Carrying you through the door, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back, cupping your ass.
Pulling away you need to breathe, resting your head on his chest. Shivering from the cool fall air, nuzzling your head into Satoru’s neck, kissing him gently.
“Your kisses are sweeter than any treat I could buy.” Satoru sits down with you straddling his lap. Picking up the roasting fork, its tip having been resting on a plate next to some marshmallow, a chocolate bar and some Graham crackers.
“Cheesy!” Leaning back enough to admire Satoru’s handsome face. Kissing his cheek.
He passes the roasting stick to his other hand. Squeezing your between his arms when he sticks a fluffy marshmellow onto it’s tip. “It’s true! The way you kiss me is so sweet and loving, it makes my heart beat faster every time. I can't stop kissing you, it's getting worse. Everytime I see you I want to cover you in kisses, hold you close and never let you go!”
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“Siren” — K.M.
꒰: Précis | After a shitty breakup with a subpar man, you find yourself drawn to the lights and sleaze of the nearest bar. Drink away your problems or fuck and forget them with the bartender who’s hot as hell.
꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Incubus Bartender!Satoru x virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise, coercion, praise, spitting, hair pulling, PRAISE, pet names (♡)
꒰: Word Count ; 10.2k
꒰: Sweetest Sin Masterlist
“You seem tense, handsome..”
————
Starting your night off with a shitty breakup and one two many drinks might’ve not been the best route to take. In hindsight at least.
Your co-workers had already urged you to break it off with the less than desirable man who could barely breathe without working your nerves and not only that—trying to make you work in the bedroom.
It was an endless cycle of “You get on top, work for me.” and never him using the hips that God gave him to work you out—always ending in a resounding turn off, consistently followed up with, “Next time for sure.” So, after he had started an argument, ending in trauma being spat out in a fit of anger, you felt thankful, grateful, blessed even that he gave you a reason.
But..all breakups are hard to get over. Whether they were a long time coming or not, it’s always a shitty experience.
What’s always the best unhealthy coping mechanism for such..? A drink, of course.
“A drink.”
That was the intention..but you wound up getting more plastered than expected and crying out your woes to the bartender who had only asked whether you’d be putting things on your tab or card for the night.
He was charismatic—maybe because of the job description and having to be a poster boy for such a place. Sweet talking drinks into vulnerable people so he could get tips and points from his boss for making them profit. It was a good hustle, respectable and fun.
Not to mention..he was damn good at it.
After a bit of a slurred exchange of words, you’d gotten to know a few things about him: His name, Satoru, Satoru Gojo. 28, graduated college with a psych major, infinitely and criminally tall—6’3 to be exact—and to your surprise, swung both ways. Often.
You found yourself asking stupid questions just so he would slide your way from the other customers.
“I’m starting to think I should cut you off,” He teased after about the 5th call over.
You raised up your head to rest in the palm of your hand, running your index over the rim of the golden-lined glass he’d refilled so many times now. Some of it you drank, most of it you babysat. “I’m pacing myself alright..” You’d slur out with a mild puffing of your cheeks.
“Oh yeah? Your cheeks are flushed, hun. Unless that’s just from staring too long.” The way he pointed out your fluster so obviously couldn’t have made it go down any.
“You’re too cocky..‘m holding over fine.” A bit snippy but he laughed heartily, drying off a used glass with the hand towel he’d kept attached to his hip.
Even from this distance, you could just tell he smelled nice. Maybe it was the already alcoholic aroma that the rather sleazy place held but you could’ve sworn there were hints of cologne—expensive cologne—that mingled with it.
Those piercing blues he had, barely dimmed out by the lighting of the establishment flickered over you and a slick smile spread across his lips. “Then, please, I’m at your disposal. Need another drink, pretty boy?”
An initial sound of surprise came with the name but you turned away from him slightly and blew a stray strand of hair from in front of your eyes. “No..”
“Ah, so you did just want to talk to me.”
“Shut up..don’t you have a job to do?” You quickly retorted with a harsh roll of eyes.
Shrugging, he waved a small goodbye. Not before adding on a small, “You’re technically a part of it..”
And in another moment, you were back to eating up the eye candy. In your mild boredom, you opened up your phone to see your shitty ex spamming you across every platform imaginable—TikTok, Insta, Snap, Facebook, hell, he went as far as to email you. He was hooked and just seeing the mass notifications made you want to throw the whole device away.
That’s when you got a really..really bad idea.
About an hour went by and the promiscuous bartender had paid you a few more stops of his own volition. Each encounter got more and more..suggestive, to say the least.
From mild flirting to him finally saying, “My eyes are up here, you know.” when yours were drifting.
“Obviously..but that’s not really the objective.”
He visibly was caught off guard by your comment, going as far as to lean his arms forward onto the bar top, eyes now boring into your soul it felt like as he purred out a response. “Oh? And what might your objective be? You’ve been eyeing me since you walked in, can’t help but feel you undressing me.”
“I’m not some sort of pervert—you’re making it sound worse than it is.” Furrowing your brows slightly, he tilted his head in that oh-so innocent fashion.
It was hard to not crack a smile.
“I am,” He admitted smoothly, now actively ignoring a small trio of women at the end of the counter. “But, you didn’t answer my question.”
With one last adjustment of his neck, he was staring right at you. “What’s your objective here, pretty boy?”
“Is it not obvious?”
“Terribly. But, I’d just love it if you could use your words. Give me something worth listening to and blowing off customers for.” His tone, his posture, his eyes—God, this is what true temptation feels like.
Working up the courage which..didn’t take long, thanks to liquid confidence, you squared your shoulders a bit to meet his gaze properly. “My objective is you. Is that so hard to piece together?”
“Don’t talk about things being hard right now.”
…
A round of silence and you were pulling a pen out of his breast pocket, you went along and grabbed his notepad as well. “And what are you doing now?”
“Giving you my cell..obviously.” Quipping back, you started to jot down the series of numbers before his slender fingers were pulling the parchment down so your focus was back on him once more.
He flashed that award-winning smile and stood up straight again. “No need. My shift ends in 30.”
Oh, he was confident.
“Make it 25. My place or yours?”
Finally, the women at the end had gotten more than impatient and wound up calling out a not-so passive, aggressive, “Bartender!” from down the way to which he cast a small grin your way.
“Duty calls.” He said briefly and then, he was gone again. Was he serious..? Maybe the drinks were really just getting to you but Lord..the way he spoke to you, sized you up—he wanted to talk about undressing people with their eyes? Please.
You could almost feel how he was defiling you in his head.
Among other things, you decided to down the rest of your drink and ultimately did put it on your tab. Once he’d taken down his apron and you had gathered the remnants of your heart that had led you to this point, you both were walking out with an air of civility…
Such a stark contrast to the debauchery that was promising the night.
Initially, you’d offered to take your car but he waved a hand with a chuckle, pointing over to a white Mustang GT sitting pretty in the parking lot. “I’ll get my co-worker to keep an eye on your ride for the night. You can come get it in the morning, ‘kay, handsome?”
“Should I feel insulted..?”
He looked around for a bit before looking back down at you. “I don’t know, are you into that sorta thing?”
“Do you always talk to people like this?”
“Hm, like what?” Peering in closer, he dug his keys out of his pocket, twirling them around his index for a moment before resting them in his palm.
Crossing your arms and beginning the path to his car, you spoke, “Like a slut.”
“Are you not one too, though?” He drawled, purposely keeping his strides slow just so you could keep up easily in your dwindling intoxication. “I mean, you came to my place of work, talked me up, now, we’re heading back to your place—is that not slut behavior?”
You got ready to make another smart comment but wound up falling short and simply digging an elbow into his ribs that elicited a pained groan followed by light laughter.
He was enjoying this way too much.
Even on the ride home, he wouldn’t let up in his relentless teasing fit. With the low rumbling of the smooth engine carrying you across the streets of the night city, he held one hand on the wheel whilst the other rested on the gear shift.
Every so often though, he’d try and drift his fingers over..over and up to your thigh which made you crane your neck to give him a sideways glance. “We’re not even halfway there yet..” You chastised lowly to which he moved his hand down, giving your thigh a playful squeeze instead of the devilish wandering it’d been doing before.
“Oh, I’m sorry, is foreplay not your thing?” Scoffing lightly, he shook his head and briefly peeled his eyes away from the road to look over you once again—it was becoming a habit. “I thought maybe you’d be as eager as I am—seeing as you’re the one who came onto me, after all.”
Rolling your eyes instinctively, you turned to face the window a bit. “Barely..I gave hints and you took them to ten fold. And I do like foreplay, seeing as my ex lacked the ability…I just wouldn’t want it to wind up with us fogging up these windows.”
“Please, I wouldn’t fuck you in my car,” He said it quick, as if he was a bit offended at the proposition. “I respect my baby better than to make a mess of either of you in here.”
That shut you up rather quickly.
You let your head make a small thud against the cold glass with an audible, “Hmph.” But, it was rather deterred when your hand moved over his, dragging it up further until it basically rested on the junction of your hips and leg. He didn’t make a comment and neither did you, save for the way your body spoke, pressing your thighs lightly together to hold his hand there.
Regardless, the rest of the drive was calm and when you’d arrived back to your quaint condo, just a bit out from the center of the cityscape, he turned the keys out of the ignition and got out of the driver’s side door.
Moving to open up the door, you started to get out before he was right there in front of it, closing it back. “What the hell?” You exclaimed, given the roughness of the pushback.
He took a few moments before opening the door so gently and leaning down to your sitting level. “You’re trying to rob me of my gentlemanly status, pretty boy. Can’t have that now, can we?” With that, he extended a flat palm your way which you took—not without a low, grumbled string of complaints at his dramatacism.
You fumbled with your keys for a split second before getting up to the door. Satoru loomed behind you, making a small shiver trail over your spine—that cologne was his.
Once getting inside, you were greeted by your precious feline companion who, instead of rubbing against your ankles, circled through Satoru’s. He gave a deep laugh of amusement, crouching down to scratch behind the furry friend’s ear to which he purred and mewed in response. “What’s its name?”
“His name is Dot.” You gave back, just the slightest bit jealous that the cat had taken a bigger liking to the house guest than the man who fed him every day. “He usually doesn’t like house guests..” A mild jab at the pet who was jingling and purring as Satoru catered to his sweet spots.
Though..after enough time and playful back and forth, just getting to know one another, flirting..whispering..trading spit..things got much more hot and heavy much quicker than you expected.
Once he’d had his tongue down your throat, it tasted..sweet. Not even in the metaphorical sense but like a literal syrup—an addictively sweet taste that had your head spinning..hazy, even.
Your back was already flat against the bed and he was taking his time..so much so you were getting impatient. Breaking the seal between your spit-drenched lips with a soft pwah, he was breathing right into your mouth. He trailed his hand up along the column of your throat and finally, a thumb was swiping across your bottom lip, pressing down on it just to get a glimpse of your lower set.
“Somethin’ wrong..?” God..how did he sound even more sultry than before..? All panting, just as his low-lidded eyes fell on yours. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now..”
Just for a moment, you were speechless. Now, you were really feeling the effects. Kissing’s never felt this good before..ever. And that haze from before? It was becoming a lot more prominent. “My head..feels weird..” You breathed out, finding yourself gradually heating up..from the inside.
“Ah, you’re catching on, pretty boy.” Catching on? To what exactly?
Instead of giving any sort of reassurance, his knee was creating friction along your jeans that were already straining. It was all so warm..hot, burning..something was off and all you could trace it back to was the man on top of you now. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten an easy mark like you..you really did make this way too easy, handsome.” He purred, trailing kisses and nips down your collarbones—exposed by your loose hanging shirt—and down, down, down.
It was so heated, every touch he showered your body with, even the simple action of him sliding his fingertips under your tee and dragging the fabric up was enough to make you squirm.
“What are you..talking about..?” You managed to say, relatively snapping back to a bit of reality. Despite how he was already kissing down from where your ribs connected under your skin, past your midsection and laving his tongue over your navel—it was obvious he was avoiding your questions.
Deft fingers picked apart the button of your pants, leaving them hanging open until he was back over top of your face. Satoru was analyzing your features, each twitch and shift in expression—the effect he was having on you.
It was utterly adorable.
Watching that stressed, pretty face all night, going from ranting and raving about a man who could hardly be called such to opening up into his own drunken desire and now laid out underneath him—fuck, it was a head rush.
“You seem tense, handsome..” The name rolled off his tongue like a vice and you could’ve sworn you were hooked. “Are you finally realizing what you got yourself into, hm?”
It was only a second. You blinked, eyes already squinting through each glance up at him and before you knew it he wasn’t..him anymore. With each passing open and shut rhythm it was something:
First his teeth, he was speaking but God knows you weren’t tuned in. Then the hands that had once been so soft, neatly cut and filed down grew into something sharp—clawed. And finally, there were those damn horns. You wished, hoped prayed that you were just too out of it to really be seeing straight but..it was real.
That cute bartender, the one who had teased and teased, led you on and wrapped you around his finger for the night..was a demon. An incubus at that—which, when it dawned on you, became even more of a problem.
Obviously, the first reaction was panic, a widespread “fight or flight” response that gradually was dimmed out. Next thing you knew, he was laughing..like, genuinely, cracking the fuck up. He could see the struggle in your eyes, the burning want, the need to fight back but oh..that little party trick from earlier was doing its job.
“Shh, shhh..it’s alright, nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about. Relax f’me..thaaat’s it..” He was speaking so slowly, so tauntingly, it felt like he was dumbing you down with his voice alone. “Fun fact about incubi—their spit counts as raw aphrodisiac..”
He leaned in closer, licking away a stray tear that had rolled down to the peak of your cheekbone before disappearing onto the warmth of his tongue. “And another fun fact..you kiss like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Already, his mouth was in desperate need of some soap.
If it’d stopped there, that would’ve been ideal. You could barely think straight, poor thing. A little too turned on for a first time, scared out of your wits, and still..still wanting to go further. You wanted him to take you further.
“Don’t you worry about a siiingle thing,” A low purr would escape him as his hands’ earlier work at your shirt finally finished, sliding it up and over your head until it was then pulled right around your wrists—he made it so. “Let me do allll that fuckin’ work for you. I told you you’re a part of my job, didn’t I..?”
You took in a shuddering breath, head instinctively flicking over to the side with a subtle roll of your hips. Oh-so absentmindedly your movements were..because as his nails made their tracings along your skin—from your chest, where he leaned all the way down just to shower your sensitive buds with the utmost attention, to how his palms then rubbed over your hips—you were just grinding.
Grinding it out on the rough fabric covering his knee as he steadily worked you over. His tongue felt..different. As in, before, it was..softer, more inviting, cute even. But now..? God, it could’ve wrapped around your cock twice and still reach the base with ease. That was a bet.
He was reveling in the series of whimpers and whines that you drenched his ears with, each one offering up a low, vibrating chuckle against your chest.
“Mhn.. ‘Toru..” Damn, was that your voice speaking..? Where did all this “Toru” business come from..? Whatever..all you knew was it tasted like heaven in your mouth and like a siren’s call to his brain. “S-stop fuckin’ around already..demon, incubus or not, you got me hot and bothered so deal with it—properly.”
A round of tutting left him as he finally detached himself from your now-swollen nipples, only to go back in to land a bite and minor tug on one of them. Already, the action alone had your legs trying to close up around his, stomach fluttering just from the feeling of his sharp canines digging in. Oh you knew he left a mark. You could already feel it.
Just as quickly as he doled out his physical reprimand, he was back to his affectionate, lewd lapping at your nub, alternating between each and giving whichever was orally unattended, pinches and rolls between his fingers. “I thought you liked foreplay, pretty boy..don’t tell me you got a little impatient and changed your mind?”
“You’ve got the brain of a whore and the body of a virgin—what kinda joke is that?” Sitting back on his haunches, both of his hands crossed over his pelvis, gripping the ends of his shirt as he tugged it off over his head. In all honesty your body had a reaction to that—a small gasp that he undoubtedly heard as well.
The shocking part wasn’t even the sheer cut of him, no, but the pair of wings that accompanied. A dark, charcoal black that differed so heavily from the pure white that his hair adorned. Stemming from his chiseled shoulder blades like a stalk.
His attention ran right back to you as he readjusted himself between your legs, both hands snaking to your inner thighs as he parted them like a sea: slow and deliberate. One of them trailed up further..coming to rest just before your groin where he splayed his fingers out.
“Hey,” A more baritone call for your attention as he stared you head on. “This is gonna really suck while I’m not inside you so..hold out for me, ‘kay?”
Rubbing soothing circles over where his fingers had found purchase, he rolled his hips forward, cracking that smile that was now sullied by the sharpness of his once-straight and narrow dental set. “You can hold out f’me, right?”
He wasn’t even asking. He talked like it was a fact.
“Nah, I know you can..you can take anything I throw at you..” Before you could even deny it, to tell him to reevaluate his expectations of your threshold, it was in motion.
The surging energy that he flowed out into your lower body first, then the crackle of electricity that followed suit, gradually descending into a sickening ache inside that felt like an inferno needing to be quelled. You squirmed and writhed, fragile fingers threatened to tear up your sheets as your strained voice caught up in your throat.
Eyes squeezed shut as you grit your teeth so hard you thought they could’ve cracked from the pressure. He was murmuring words of praise, encouragement, of urging you to endure it. And after a bit, it was less painful and more just a throbbing need that already had you breathless.
“Haah..fuck, what is..God..” The last name was said like it was the worst of profanity as you finally worked up enough gall to look down. Once his hand lifted from its place, that’s when you saw it.
Right there, just below where your stomach ended and your happy trail began—a fucking womb tattoo.
No, like, for real. It was engraved in your skin, staining your flesh that same charcoal black with the intricate scrawl of abstract twists all centered around a hollow heart design.
Fuck how it looked though—your body was screaming.
Just from the proximity alone from Satoru, it was getting harder to breathe, harder to even think straight and his pants weren’t even off yet. Was this the power of a real fucking demon? Able to bring a man to his knees with just a few well-placed touches and words of slutty promise?
“Toruuu..it burns..” A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you ran your hands down to try and soothe the ache. But not only with your shirt tangled up along your wrists but one of his own pinning them back against the headboard, you were stuck.
That roll of his hips had gotten bolder, more rhythmic..you could feel how much he was into this. Not only by the way he seemed to do it mindlessly, his breathy pants and the slight flutter of his abnormal appendages, but God..the fucking print.
Oh, it was fucking big.
Here he was, trying to keep you under control when he seemed like he would burst at the seams with one wrong move. “I know, I know..I feel it too, baby..” This whole time, he’d been rather composed—you know, while making you fall apart—but even now, it seemed hard for even him to keep himself under control.
“Tell me,” There went that damn tone again, though, instead of that cocky arrogance, it was almost desperate. “Do you want this as much as I do..? Don’t think with your dick right now, as hard as I know that is to do that right now…”
Trailing off, his free hand cupped your jaw, making blown pupils meet the zeroed. You could’ve gotten high off the eye contact alone at this point. “Say the word and I’ll stop—you won’t have to remember this ever happened. You’ll forget everything about me, your body will go right back to how it was and..I’ll be gone.”
“But I’ll miss this face..those eyes, your voice..oh…” No matter how much he was prioritizing you, how much he meant every word he said..he couldn’t help but pray, beg for God to do him a solid and let you say yes to this. “Come on, pretty boy..”
“Talk to me.”
It was less of an asking and much more like a command. Your hesitation was so evident in the way your breath hitched with each labored inhale and exhale. The proposition was set but the real question remained unanswered—were you really about to give up your virginity to an incubus..?
…
Well..yeah.
Making sure you never took your eyes off him, after what felt like an eternity, you uttered, “I crave it, Toru..please, don’t get me all the way here and leave me..I need you. Need to feel you in places I don’t know exist…” And with a final batting of your lashes, you breathed, “..need you to fuckin’ ruin me.”
That did it.
“Goddamn your mouth is so fuckin’ nasty,” Like a flip switched in his brain, he was on you. Gone was the gentle caress of his kiss—replaced by the starved devouring of your lips, teeth and tongue as he finally got serious. “I cannot wait to break you the fuck in.”
And by God did he mean it in every sense of the word.
His hands were everywhere: your hips, thighs, face, anywhere he could get a feel for you. A feel for the heat that you were radiating and pouring off in gallons. It didn’t take long at all for him to start tugging at the rest of the clothing that was keeping him from what he was gunning for.
Bits and pieces of fabric stripped away like nothing but an inconvenience before being discarded into the growing pile of articles on the floor. Once you were laid out bare in front of him, you faintly caught wind of an instinctive, “Fuck..” Slipping from his mouth before he was already hooking your leg onto his shoulder.
Even in his haste, he was handling you with sooo much care. His bites felt like nips and grazes before he was leaning in closer..further up until the heated inner of your thigh was burning the side of his face. He stayed there for a moment closing his eyes like he was an aerosol fiend.
But oh, oh when those glaciers met your gaze again, he bit down, hard. Those canines of his were a force to be reckoned with because the yelp that tore from you upon the breaking of skin was awful.
“What the hell, Toru..?” You complained, furrowing your eyebrows down into an expression that was meant to be scolding but you couldn’t deny the way the new addition to your skin was twisting your perception of pain and pleasure oh so deliciously.
And boy did he know. One turned into two and gradually, your thighs were stained with his saliva and the clear imprint of his teeth—slightly bloodied and hickeys for daaays.
At one point, you’d closed your legs up around him, a feeble attempt at a timeout but he wasted no time in prying then right back open, lowering his head enough to lick a looong, slow stripe up your neglected cock that had been sitting so pretty on the sidelines.
You really were acting like a virgin—the simple lick making your hips lift up just a bit before the contact was taken back away. A whimper of protest was heard at the loss of sensation and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “Ahh, is that what you want, pretty boy? Hm?”
Although his eyes were on you right now, he couldn’t help but feel the effects of not only smelling—seeing, touching, breathing—but tasting you on his tongue. All the while with both hands busy and his pants seeming like the greatest obstacle on Earth. But he digressed, bringing up a sharp-nailed hand to press his palm down juuust enough to glide up and dig your length a bit further against your stomach.
“Wanna feel my mouth giving all my attention to this cute cock of yours, hm?” A drawl of a question and you were already getting driven up the wall by the physical aspect that came with it. “Come onnn, what did I say about using your words, sweetheart?”
Did he like..need you to die in the process of all this?
A simpering moan was all your mind could muster up before you let out a light puff, willing yourself to meet those eyes that seemed to be doing more work than anything else right now. “Please, Toru..You’re driving me insane..” Breathless and absolutely helpless—just how he liked you.
The verbal queue was all he needed. With one chuckled out, “Good boyyy.” Oh he was getting to work.
That tongue that had seemingly grown in measure was going alongside with his hands—smooth and soft, yet a little calloused—that took your aching shaft up into his palm. He fucking kissed up, from base to tip and then swiped his tongue back and forth under your sensitive frenulum before using those plump lips to give playful sucks to your weeping slit.
Swirling that aphrodisiac-saliva slick all over until you finally caved, pulling your forearms in front of your eyes and just barely stifling out your voice from behind them. The muscles in your thighs were just shivering, and he hadn’t even taken it all in yet.
God you were fucking hopeless.
Satoru’s hands rubbed soothingly along your inners as he showered your cockhead with sooo much care. It was so much yet still not enough. “Mhn..f-fuck, deeper..please..” Even as you begged for more, your body was following its own rhythm, hips bucking up into the inviting heat of his mouth. “Come on..you’re a..haah, demon, right..? This is your job..right?”
“Then give me more.” You were taken aback by the urgency you held in your voice and he clearly was too—seeing as his tongue stopped its endless movement that had remained focused solely on the tip of your member. And in one, sharp-toothed grin, he was following your words to the letter.
Oh and God could you tell he had the experience of a lifetime. From head to base, he took it alll down. He even did the courtesy of holding his mouth there, swallowing around every delicious inch like it was the sweetest candy he’d ever. Fucking. Tasted.
The sensation was enough to make your head finally fall back into the plush pillow set that decorated the top of your bed, shuddering out a throaty groan and ultimately a sigh of relief. His tongue got back to work, even though he wasn’t moving his head, you could feel the methodical patterns he made along the underside, around—even going as far as to trace the veins that pulsed with each flick.
But when he started to move? Your eyes fluttered back like you were experiencing the first effects of anesthesia. Even with his sharpened set, you didn’t feel one bit of teeth.
The worst fucking part was those damn eyes.
You were avoiding his like a plague but you could feel them burning holes through you as your fingers raked through your hair. Yeah, you’d gotten sucked off before but goddamn, he was sucking the soul out of you.
Finally, your lids managed to peel open when your legs began to tense up, mindlessly rutting your pelvis up and down, just so desperate for that high you could feel coiling in your stomach. He noticed all the squirming, could taste the bittersweet of pre that dripped into his tongue each time he pulled his head back up—you both knew you were close.
A series of careening moans later and he pulled his lips off of you with a wet pop, putting in the effort to spit directly on the tip, rubbing his thumb over that weeping slit until you were sure you’d cramp up. His hand already picked up where his mouth left off and he was just heaving those barely useful, hot, shuddering, laughing breaths onto the connection of your shaft and head.
“You taste like fuckin’ heaven, pretty boy,” He said with a bit of a cockdrunk smile on his face. Those charcoal wings gave their own fluttering of excitement—now that you were slightly able to focus on something else other than his oral cavity. “I could suck this cock for hours and I’d keep going even when my jaw locks.”
And he wanted to talk about your mouth being nasty?
He brought his other hand to help with the job, left moving in short, up and down motions whilst the other was simply bullying the entrance of your urethra. Your hands, on the other hand, were simply just trying to find purchase on anything you could get them on.
The sheets, the pillow, your own tousled locks—whatever to help you cope with the burning need in your gut. “Oh f-fuck, oh God..‘Toru, Toru..!” You tumbled out in a hurried fashion as both your hands tried to close either ends of the pillow over your face to possibly shield you from the embarrassment..from those damn eyes. “Close.. ‘m close..s-so fuckin’..fuuuck..”
Vocabulary falling short, you heard the deep chuckle that he made, followed up by such a soft coo—all the while he was making you feel euphoric. It couldn’t have felt this good in its own..right? Sure, being a virgin was one thing but you’d gotten handys and blowjobs plenty of times before. It had to be that damn mark..right?
“Look at you..aww, you poor, poor thing,” The lilt in his voice made a whine of annoyance and frustration die out in the pillow that now barely masked your features. “You feelin’ it? My hands, my mouth, my breath..oh it’s just too much isn’t it? If you can’t handle this..”
He trailed off like he finished the sentence once in his head before finally verbalizing it, “Just how are you going to manage with my cock fucking you stupid? Huuh?”
Automatically, you felt another surge when his words reached your brain—not your ears but after they registered—and you were damn near trembling with the effort to hold back and keep up the tedious conversation. Or, it seemed rather tedious..to you.
“Can you imagine it already, huh? How it’s gonna feel when I finally sink in, the draaaag..Your eyes going cross when I bottom out, when you can feel me all the way up to your stomach—” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before you were sent tumbling over the edge in a fit of muffled profanity and swears.
Once again, that raspy chuckle of his echoed against your walls, only quieted down when his lips wrapped around the twitching and now pulsating head of your cock that emptied out straight into his waiting maw.
He closed his eyes, you heard—and felt—his low hums of appreciation as he drank it all down like he was on the brink of dehydration. As he did, the symbol along your pelvic bone started illuminating the small space it took up. It was almost hypnotizing..
After what seemed like absolutely forever, you fell back into the pillows with strained sounds of your come down, looking down to find Satoru’s glaciers staring right back up at you through those snowy lashes. You’d expected a witty remark but he simply pulled his lips off, holding your softening shaft in one hand as he opened his mouth up.
There, you saw the aftermath of your own premature climax. Immediately, your face lit up with a deep crimson. “Jeez, I thought you swallowed already..!”
He shook his head, smiling cheekily.
“Are you waiting on my say-so..?”
A bout of silence..then another nod.
You pulled a face, glancing off to the side and only coming back when he gave a few more teasing strokes that made you yelp in frustration. “F-fine..! Swallow, spit, I don’t care..I just..”
“I just want to stop the burning in my stomach..it feels like…I’ll die without it—without you..” You breathed. “So quit fucking around and do me right.”
That did it for him, seeing as he swallowed with haste and stuck his tongue out to reveal the—relatively—empty contents. What he did next was more bold.
Slowly, surely, he raised his head up, peering in over you. Even after all this and such a lack of clothing, the scent of his cologne still drenched your senses and managed to make your vision just a bit hazier in the proximity. All of that amplified ten-fold when he sealed your mouths together.
Sloppy, and riddled with the taste of your own cum, he was taking your breath away with each slick slide of your tongues along one another. A heady mixture of that delicious aphrodisiac and something uniquely his.
This entire time he’d been so patient. Dragging it on for what seemed like absolute ages. So when you felt his hand sneaking down—past your navel, not at all skipping your sensitivity—and finally down to your patient, waiting, hole.
Just the graze was enough but when two—not one—of his lengthy digits slid in, and his breath began to fan across your face with each break of this kiss..it was showtime.
“Fun fact, pretty boy..” He’d say, curling his fingertips into a spot you couldn’t even reach properly before you met him. “This, this little symbol right here..?”
As your legs were starting to clamp up, he used his free hand to trace over the tattoo embedded into your pelvic bone. “Makes things sooo much easier for me—for us..” Trailing off, he had gotten just mildly carried away as he hit that sweet nerve inside that elicited such a tantalizing sound to drip from your lips. “It gets you all nice and ready for me and I don’t even have to do anything too bad, t’ya..”
“Ain’t that exciting?” Chiming, he got his answer via the resurgence of your erection against your stomach.
This was his element and clearly he was thriving.
The sound of his digits knuckle deep inside—stirring up the fire that was raging in yourty core—bounced off the walls like a symphony.
Your voice was only getting sweeter and sweeter, falling on his ears in a way that made his previous, mindless, grinding down into the sheets seem like it would never be enough.
It wasn’t enough.
Not with your tight heat already pulsing and gripping his fingers like a vice, giving him a perfect demonstration of what he could be buried in right now.
“C’monn, I’ll talk you through it if it hurts too bad but..fuck…I can’t hold off anymore,” He slid his fingers out of you, but not without a shiver running up your spine.
Drifting downward, he undid—what he would call—his restraints and slid off everything from the waist down. Once he kicked it off to the edge of the bed and over, Satoru sat up on his knees and began fisting the base of his thick shaft.
“You’ve been leading me on all night..a man can only take so much you know..” It was almost a whining complaint that he twisted into a slight reprimand. “Let’s take this all the way. Let me get you there. You know I’ll fuck you so right in all the wrong ways.”
Panting now, he looked down at how your body was screaming with Fahrenheit and anticipation as much a him. The puddle of slick pouring out into the slight indents of your abdomen from your sobbing cockhead—that, amongst others let him know just how he was getting to you.
Just a bit of finger fucking and you were already like this..? He couldn’t even begin to fathom how you’d be when all 7.4 sunk in.
A whine trailed out when, the slight of fullness had been removed from your pulsing walls. “‘Toru..” You frustratedly simpered out, covering up your eyes with your forearm. “Quit f-fucking playing..”
“Playing? I’m just waiting for you to drop the attitude and ask me how you know you’re s’posed to.” He snipped back. “You’re the one squirming around and enjoying yourself getting off on my hand but you’re still so confident.”
You bit back a groan at his bratty response and shivered out a sigh. “I’m..sorry.”
“For..?”
“For giving you lip about how you’re not inside me right now.”
He shrugged his shoulders and slid his dripping tip along the crevice of your as—teasing you with his hips each time it caught on the rim. “I think you can do better than that..” Each pass spreading the slick that was artificially—or ‘magically’—pouring out of you and the fat drops of pre that were coming from Satoru.
Leaning your head back, down into the pillow, you began to speak, “Haah..for being..defiant—”
“Look me in the eyes when you’re asking me for something. That’s common courtesy.” With a slight bite, he pressed the tip past just a bit and it was enough to make you trip up in your sentence.
Your arm fell from over your eyes and to the side of your head as you stared up at him with all due reluctance. It was mildly hard to tell with how your features were already being contorted by the promise of more. “I’m sorry for being..mhn..defiant. I’ll listen, I’ll be..good for you. So please give me what I want..”
“Atta boy.” He purred, taking that as a sign to ‘spontaneously forgive you’. In reality—he just hadn’t expected you to beg so fucking nicely with just a bit of teasing. Next thing you knew, he was bottoming out inside you.
The pathetic sound that your mouth produced was one you didn’t know you could make before. A gradual and steady ease into it would’ve been better but oh he did the exact opposite of any of that. He had let out his own slightly pained groan at the sheer grip that you had on every inch you’d taken so gracefully. Eyes falling directly down onto you, he gave a half-smile that was somewhat meant to convince himself, just as much as you that it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Holy shit..fuck you feel…fuck..” Vocabulary failing for what felt like the first time during the entire encounter, you heard the light fluttering of his wings up on his shoulders–most likely compensating for the way his hips had jutted to a stop after the initial breach of both your senses.
The cherry on top had to be the fact that he had pressed down riiight onto that little symbol of yours. Exactly where you could feel his cockhead nestled so snugly inside. It didn’t help that the veins were pulsing as they struggled to all find purchase within your sopping wet hole. He pushed your legs back by your knees–not into a full-on mating press yet but just enough so he could start rocking and setting up a steadfast rhythm inside.
You thought it’d be easier to–well, who are we kidding? It was already hard enough for you to deal with him just being inside but now with that drag that was building up the friction your body felt like it’d been waiting ages for; you were already rendered a stuttering, tensed up mess.
Rampant fingers scrambling for him and finally pulling him down on top of you by the base of his horns, you earned a groan that faded off into a dry laugh. “Aw, already can’t seem to get me close enough? I’m already all the way up in your stomach, you know..”
“I..mnh..I know, I know..f-fuck, ‘s just..a lot.” You pieced together, even with the currents that were creating seas of pleasure through your veins. It was like each time he pulled out and dropped all the way back down into you, his throbbing cock found new spots to bully and pinpoint. “.. ‘Yer fillin’ me up so much I c-can barely think straight, ‘Toru..”
That hanging coo of his name made his heart–and well, dick–throb as he furrowed his eyebrows in slight concentration. He was building up a sweat, easy to tell from the droplets that slid down his brow ridge and past his face to fall onto you.
“Are you sure you’re a virgin..? Or do you just naturally say shit that makes me want to give up on trying to fuck you slow?” He grunted, each time with a deep grind against your deepest parts.
At one point, he went into what felt like full downward dog and that alone was enough to prove his question to be redundant. Poor you, you didn’t even know what that bit of hip curvature could do before you were shuddering out a premature orgasm that startled the both of you when it hit. You were slightly mortified at the fact you’d cum from just a few well-placed strokes but to Satoru, you couldn’t have stroked his ego any better. That little emblem glowed it’s white shimmer until your climax subsided, Satoru never really stopping his motions until you were completely sated and now thoroughly heightened in your nerves. “Fuck, ah, s-shit, I’m sorry I didn’t think I’d–”
“Why’re you apologizing for that?” He laughed out. “It’s only your first of tonight, anyway. Might as well get used to it..” Giving another scan over your body, he could see and feel just how much each little detail was contributing to the state you were in now. “Hey, can you..get on all fours for me..?” “Why..?”
“I want to see if you can get a few back to backs while I’m hitting it from the back.” So chipper about it, you couldn’t help the slight twist of annoyance that came with it. To him it was worth it though, just to see your face get all pouty about the matter.
Slowly withdrawing, he eased you off of your back with a flawless handling of your waist and legs, making sure not to give you too much ragdoll treatment–yet. Your face naturally landed into the pillow with a muffled ‘hmph’ and just seconds later, you felt his thumbs spreading your hole out. He was admiring the view and your face grew hotter with each passing instant that you could feel his eyes lingering there.
“Do you mind–”
“Hush up, f’me. Let me enjoy this fully–it’s not every day that I get to fuck virgins so I’m trying to make you last.”
You let out a lengthy groan into the fabric before speaking again, “Why can’t you just fuck my brains out already..that is your job. Not to tease me until I can’t take it anymore..” “Oh, trust me, sweetie,” All matter-of-factly, he leaned down to nip and bite at the exposed skin of your shoulder, moving to lick a stripe from your tailbone, all the way up until he placed another loving set of teeth marks at the nape of your neck. “If that was enough to make you finish quick as you did–you wouldn’t be able to handle all that. I’m doing this for your sake, so try and sound a bit more grateful.”
Whatever bratty remark you had to give afterward was silenced by the sound and feeling of a fat wad of his saliva coming into contact with your puckered entrance. A mild shiver and you could’ve sworn that the tips of your ears were redder than ever. It also didn’t help the fact that he began that languid stroking of his angry cockhead all along the crevice that he’d spread out so gracefully and politely.
Throaty grunts–some fading into soft, almost tender moans–fell on your ears in an increasing succession. It was enough to drive anyone far up the wall. Especially when he’d already given you such a clear-cut example and beautiful snippet of what was to come.
Almost on their own, your hips began to bounce back on him in the slight of chasing more of the friction that was your only–inadequate–sense of relief. “Aww, ‘s the matter, pretty boy?” Once again, that patronizing coo of his pet name stole a whimpered complaint from your mouth. It felt mostly on deaf ears with your face being so submerged into the plush. “Doesn’t this feel soo nice? Hm? Remember what we talked about..”
“I-it does..it feels..hah, amazing…” You’d meekly reply.
He cocked his head to the side, angling an eyebrow at you before planting an arm squarely beside your face, then using his free hand to guide your eyes up to his. “Buttt..”
“I told you..” It was then that Satoru got to see the true effect of all his ruthless teasing–you were already tearing up. His snow blues widened at the sight of the mild wetness that had begun to spring from your eyes and stain your cheeks. “..‘S not enough..I’m burning inside and you’re being fucking..mean.”
Oh, but how could he not?
The entire night, you’d been casting glances, slipping words under your breath and essentially leading him all the way on. It was–one of–the more irritating ‘jobs’ that he’d ever gotten but after having a taste of you..? Seeing how those pouty expressions became twisted and eventually fell away once you really started to feel it..how could he resist..?
“Ah, I see now..” he drawled, lining himself up once again. Luminous depths all muddled with lust and something just simply carnal lurking behind them, his breath hitched and so did yours when he slipped the tip in. As much as you wanted to recoil, he held your face there, clawed nails softly digging into your cheeks. Mouth hung open above yours, his lips just ghosted with the heat of his every exhale. “I’m sorry, baby..you must be in agony, huh..? You’ve already had such a bad night..”
Inch by inch, he watched with hawk-eyes the gradual descension of your facial expression–so needy, so fucking pathetic–alll because of him.
Oh, that was just the half of it.
From this angle, this position..fuck was he reaching deep. Deeper than before it felt–and even then, he didn’t stop until he was fit so snugly inside. “S-shit..might get fuckin’ addicted to this,” he huffed once again, then pressing his sweat-riddled chest against your fluttering spine. “Let me help you forget about all your problems..you deserve it. Just lie there, look good, and take everything I have to offer..”
With that low mutter, he sealed your lips together and kicked up his rhythm–obscene and just downright filthy sounds coming from the connection between the two of you. Instead of the grind he’d grown and nurtured beforehand, his hips were slamming into you, making that harsh slap each time that his pelvis pressed up against the fat of your ass. It was enough to have your legs trembling just a few minutes in.
Over and over and over, just fucking pounding you in. Your moans and gasps for air were all swallowed up into his slick maw as he dominated the kiss with ease. His tongue was mapping out each crevice of your mouth. As much as you thought he tasted sweet enough to make your dentist fly into a fury–he thought you tasted fucking divine.
“God-damn, holy–keep it arched like this..just like..ahh…” He began to roll his head back but just as he did, your hand came up, tugging him back down over you by one of his horns. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. A brief widening of his eyes and he was now hooking his big hands into the junctures of either of your hips, pulling you back with a harsh tug that made the precision of his thrusts seem all the more brutal.
One hand firmly clasped on the protrusion of his head, ever-adjusting, another scrunching up your poor pillow as yet another round of tremors rang out through your spine. Your lips were fallen open in such a blissed out way that all manners of sounds were coming from there. Ranging from, “Right there..! R-right fuckin’ ohhh..!” to strings of, “S-slow– mhn..! Can’t take..haah..” It was so endearing how you couldn’t even properly place what exactly it was that you really wanted.
Slithering a hand from its holster, he wrapped around, once again laying his chest on top of you but this time sinking his weight down into you in a way that made your body tense and you could’ve sworn you heard the zip! Signaling a short circuit in your brain when your prostate was dug into sooo fucking deliciously.
What definitely wasn’t helping were the fingers that had found your sorely forgotten shaft–left to leak endless strings of pre down onto your sheets as you were dicked down into them. Methodically twisting his wrist on the upstroke, he eventually noticed how your ass was rutting back against him, encouraging him to continue his relentless pursuit. “I can’t..hngh..make you out…” heavily panting, he began to leave the back of your neck and shoulders branded with the map of his sharp canines and incisors.
Another one of those hearty chuckles, just a little less throaty and more breathless than anything and he was kissing up along your shoulders. “You’re really something, y’know.”
“..‘Toru...”
“Yess, handsome?” That purr was enough to make you flush, maybe even a bit more than how he was literally jerking you off while keeping at a standstill inside.
Pulling your face up and out of the small huddle you’d made amongst your arms, you gave him that glossy-eyed look. Oh you felt him throb. “I’m..getting close again…”
“Oh yeah? Aaand..you’re getting close to..what, exactly?” Even now, he wasn’t letting up on his teasing, sliding his fist up to create a lewd squelching sound along your weeping tip. A careening moan stopped what you were going to say next but it was so cute to hear you struggle to form the most basic of sentences.
“..Fuck.. ‘m gonna cum..”
“Already?”
His response made your cheeks stain with crimson once more as you then coyly nodded along. “I want you to..cum with me…You didn’t before.”
God.
Maybe he was just turned on or maybe it was his heart melting, but that ignited something inside of Satoru that he couldn’t explain. All that you knew was that he was practically smothering you now, big, strong arms gathered around your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck–fucking ramming his cock deeper and deeper with all due haste.
Your fingers came up to scratch at his biceps, clawing at the skin there as your voice grew louder and louder, more and more strained and finally being dulled out by the pillow whilst you were sent barreling over the edge. Incoherencies flowing from your mouth like a fountain–akin to how your dick was pumping out rope after rope of burning release onto the sheets. It didn’t help that even when your body grew rigid and you were shuddering through your climax–he kept going.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..” Chanting over and over, each weighted slap of his balls up against your sore taint was plowing you through your already-powerful orgasm and straight into overstimulation. He would’ve been more gentle, would’ve stopped and maybe rubbed the rest out after you came but the way your hole was fucking clinging to him–as if begging him to stay–he knew that was a lost cause.
His breathing faltered, got caught in his throat a few times before he was whining in your ear. It was hard to make sense of, given your deliriousness and the fog that was beginning to mar your psyche but something along the lines of, “My name, f-fucking say my name..” he pleaded. “Wanna let this..whole fuckin’ neighborhood know who’s the first..who’s the best fuck you’ll ever have.”
In a blind state of compliance, you tried your hardest to follow his command.
“Satoru–”
“Fucking wrong.” He bit.
Trying again, you rolled your neck off to the side, resting your cheek down into his forearm as you helplessly mewled underneath him. So close already, his cock was pulsing inside of you with each rapidfire, short stroke he made. “Jesus fuckin’--ahh..! ‘Toru, ‘Toru..oh my fuck, ‘Toru..!” With how syrupy sweet his name sounded on your lips, it was no surprise at all when you felt the first spurts of cum begin to paint your insides when you said it.
‘Toru, Toru, Toru’ over and over--he rode out every last second of his climax with deep, guttural groans of your name, essentially returning the favor a bit. By this point, your mind was already swamped with pleasure that had long since had your eyes simply rolling. That burn had begun to dim down and it seemed as though he was spent as well–for the most part.
Basking in that pretty afterglow, he finally let some of his weight stop pinning you down to the mattress and opted for leisurely laying on top of you. “Hey, not too bad at all for a first timer.” like a switch was flipped, he was right back to his casual, smug demeanor. Still out of breath but steadily regaining his senses, he brushed back a few strands from your face before letting his softening shaft slip out. Teasing the tip a bit before the pop! rang out, almost immediately his load started to drip down your thighs.
Only then did you let your hips sink back down with an unceremonious fall.
He glanced over the sight with rapt attention–he couldn’t help but glide his fingers through the mess he’d made of you. You felt a small shiver run up your spine when he did, lifting your head up and off of the pillow just enough to look back at him through your tousled locks. “Seriously, Satoru?”
“Aww, what? I liked it when I was ‘Toru’.” He’d whined with a feigned look of dejection.
Rolling your eyes, you turned over on your back and to your surprise–the mark was gone. “Hey, where did–”
“It’s temporary,” Cutting you off just a bit, he smiled. “I came inside, I helped you out, anddd..my job is done.”
Slowly but surely, you watched all of his otherworldly features begin to retreat–his horns disappearing back into his hair, wings folding up and sliding back into place inside his shoulder blades. It looked..painful, but he hadn’t really flinched.
“Does that not..hurt at all..?” You inquired, gesturing toward the clear expanse of skin where his horns had been before.
All he did was shrug it off, bringing a hand up to his neck as he scratched the back of it lightly. “Huh..? Ah, I guess not. It’s sort of like..when humans naturally lose teeth. Orrr, growing and cutting off nails.”
“Kinda gross.”
“You didn’t seem to find any part of me gross a few moments ago,” Swinging his long legs off to the side of the bed, he leaned down to tug his pants back on, keeping his belt messily undone. In another moment, he stalked over to your bathroom and you sat up a bit straighter, pulling your legs into yourself a bit. Your face fell as you thought it was simply over just like that. Well, until he came back with a towel from the cabinet. “Humans are so odd. Keeping towels in such places–they go on racks.” he’d grumbled as he made his way over to you.
Stepping back into frame, he saw the way your face was just a few seconds away from tearing up. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re hurt somewhere..” his features fell somber as he cupped your face, tilting it upward to look back at him.
“N-no it’s..nothing.”
He gave a harsh scoff and once again pulled that smug smirk. “Uhuh. ‘Nothing’ my sweet ass. Talk to me, pretty boy.”
“I just thought..you’d stay a while longer.” Your eyes sideswiped away from his and all Satoru could do was smile even harder, dragging your face to his lips. Peppering kisses wherever his mouth could reach, you soon felt your face growing hotter. “Fuck–quit it..! What’s up with you-?”
Once again, another burst of laughter and he tugged away, unfurling the towel and wiping down all of your sullied limbs and taking extra time to tend to where he’d been paying the most attention beforehand. Knelt in front of you, cleaning off your inner thighs, he was humming lowly to himself. Your fingers carded through his white head of hair enough for him to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is this the part where you say ‘I love you’ and you ask me to stay the night?”
“You ruined the moment, so..I’ll skip over the first part and just say thanks for helping me not be an adult virgin anymore.” You remarked with a small flick of his forehead.
Shrugging, he chimed back, “So I can still stay over?”
“Of course–my couch is always open for freeloaders.”
That was enough for him to know where he stood and get back to cleaning up his mess.
A/N: Kind of my debut into this scene..! You lot showed so much love to the mlist alone! I hope I characterized my precious ‘Toru’ well, I took inspiration. More on the way—enjoy the first commandment. 🧧
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tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)
He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.
He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.
It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.
To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.
"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.
"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."
You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.
"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."
And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere smut
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MAIN THING (teaser)
18+ / mdi
summary: after years of insistence from soonyoung, he finally convinces resident social butterfly seungkwan to introduce him to his unrequited crush; a fellow idol at hybe who he has not been able to take his eyes off since moving to the company.
content: idol!hoshi x hybeidol!reader, simp!hoshi, he's down horribly bad, seungkwan is fed up with hoshi, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 746 (teaser); 11k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: june 14th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: time for more horrendously down bad hoshi
masterlist
"Just introduce me to her. Please," whined Soonyoung for the nth time that week.
"I already said no! Just go talk to her yourself like a normal person," rebutted Seungkwan, attempting but failing at disregarding his insistent friend.
"He can't do that. Last time they made eye contact he ran to hide behind Mingyu," snickered Jeonghan, invested in this conversation whenever it was brought up.
"I just need you to get the ball rolling. Please, Kwan-ah," he pleaded as he got up in Seungkwan's personal space – a thing everyone knew not to do.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "She already knows who you are, you know. There's no need to introduce you," he muttered under his breath.
"Wait, what. She does? Like knows knows me? Or just knows of Hoshi of Seventeen?", his eyes widened in shock, grabbing onto Seungkwan's shoulders to get his full attention.
"She knows Kwon Soonyoung, dumbass. She's one of my closest friends, why wouldn't she know of you?", he grumbled, attempting to shake off his friend.
Soonyoung sighed at the short-lived hope he had of you having maybe taken an interest to him and brought him up in conversation with Seungkwan, just to have confirmation (yet again) of you simply knowing him as Seungkwan's groupmate.
It had been two, no, three years since Soonyoung had first developed a special interest in you. Thinking back to when Pledis was first acquired by Hybe, Soonyoung still remembered the first time he saw you in person very vividly.
Instantly, he developed a crush on you from the very first glance, only falling further any time you'd cross paths in the building.
He had known of your existence before that, of course, but had never truly acknowledged his obvious crush on you until he first met you in person.
Unfortunately for Soonyoung, he was far too shy and introverted to ever actually engage in conversation with you, much less slide his way into your life the way Seungkwan so easily had – Seungkwan, who had become one of your closest friends. On the contrary, Soonyoung would actively go out of his way to avoid you, never even so much as making eye contact whenever Seungkwan would bring you around.
It was easy for him to become the mockery of the members due to this. Leave it to him to have his years-long crush become best friends with one of his best friends, leading him to your constant, nerve-wracking proximity.
At some point he decided that maybe he should break out of his shell – the shell he had created specifically to shield himself from his feelings for you. He decided that instead of avoiding you, he'd do the next best thing ... which was to ask Seungkwan to officially re-introduce you to each other.
You were blissfully unaware of Soonyoung's crush, he knew that much. Did you know of his existence? Barely, as you'd only interacted a handful of times, with those always being brief and impersonal interactions. This gave Soonyoung the perfect opportunity to start brand new with you. Except he'd need the help of his most extroverted friend, who just so happened to be your best friend.
After begging Seungkwan to please work his social butterfly magic on him, he found himself unsuccessful. Seungkwan would merely scoff and tell him to grow up, leading Soonyoung to be mocked by one of the other eleven members, and then the cycle would repeat. Currently, it was Jeonghan's turn to snicker at Soonyoung's misery, it seemed.
Taking note of Soonyoung's pouty lips and saddened demeanor, Jeonghan took pity on him and clapped his hands decisively before speaking up again.
"Okay, how about you let Hoshining here take your place in doing the TikTok challenge for maestro with Y/N? If they hit it off, then you've done your due diligence, and if not, Soonie can just go get fucked. Everybody wins," he suggested as he shrugged at Seungkwan.
Soonyoung lit up at this, choosing to completely disregard the last two sentences of his suggestion. This was more than enough for him to get the ball rolling.
Immediately joining in on the plan, he turned to Seungkwan once more, ready to beg again.
"Don't say anything," Seungkwan shushed him with a lift of his finger, opposite hand now digging into his temple in what Soonyoung hoped to simply be exaggerated annoyance, "I'll do it, just, please grant me twenty minutes of silence," he pleaded.
That worked well enough for Soonyoung.
...
you can check it out today on my ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one!
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen#seventeen oneshot#svt#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt oneshot#hoshi fanfic#hoshi imagines#hoshi x reader#hoshi smut#soonyoung smut#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung fanfic#bookmarks
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Soulmates.
R.C x fem reader
Your long term boyfriend John B cheats on you with his soulmate, Sarah Cameron. And you decide you need revenge. And what better way than with the man he hates most? Rafe Cameron.
Thank you anon for requested this uploaded again!
C.W: Cheating, oral fem recieving, (I think that’s it)
Being cheated on by your long term boyfriend was hard enough, losing a friend group was another heartbreak. John B and you had been together since you’d graduated high school. After you moved here from a small town in the south during your sophomore year. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your hyper feminine clothing and routine.
You carried around a purse with the essentials, wallet, phone, taser and lipstick. You were a senior in college now, going for law school and you had come to your shared apartment with a gift for John B. Grinning, you opened the door but the box fell out of your hold at the sight of him laying on the floor naked with Sarah Cameron.
Your face dropped and they both scrambled to cover up. You stood in silence for a few seconds before John B began babbling words,
“It just happened, I didn’t know she was my soulmate, it just appeared and I was going to tell you tonight-“
That fucking unfortunate information sent you into a rage. You screamed, threw things, even chased after John B with your purse until you managed to calm down. The tears sprang on but you willed yourself to leave. He offered to move out but you couldn’t accept.
It held too many memories so here you were. Crying while shoving a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth, looking at your old friend group with John B and Sarah Cameron. It was a self destructive path, to doom scroll and torture yourself with the photos of them showing their tattoos.
The soulmate bond was uncontrollable. Once the connection was formed, matching tattoos appeared on your ring fingers. The image itself was the moon cycle when the bond sealed. This phenomenon was ancient. Viewed as old school, disregarded even here in the outer banks. You had been with John B and the Pogues so long, it didn’t matter to you that the official bond didn’t come.
You isolated yourself in your childhood bedroom at your parent’s home. They were on vacation, celebrating their anniversary so you couldn’t even have their comfort during the breakup. Sniffling, you flipped over on your side and curl into a ball.
Fuck him, you thought angrily. He couldn’t have had the decency to break it off. Tell you before betraying the history you had together. Sarah Cameron was the middle child of a family as close to royalty as they came here. She was known to rebel against her Kook father and step mother as she graduated high school years ago. You never were friends, friendly at best if you ran into her after leaving your shift as a barista.
He couldn’t get away with this. Neither could the Pogues choosing his side and excluding you. Your jaw set as you stared at the wall, an idea forming. It was extremely petty. Risky and could lead to a dramatic fall out. However, if it was done right, it would be satisfying.
You felt like a fish out of water. Wearing a light colored dress, makeup applied and hair up as you approached your target. Rafe Cameron.
He was the oldest of the Cameron’s, a few years above you with a bad reputation. Bad temper, abrasive personality and instilled fear into many. However, one thing he was, a smart businessman.
While your parents were Pogues, your grandparents were Kooks. Making your childhood and teenage years a little less harsh than your old friends. You got invited to some parties, had some level of respect that other Pogues didn’t.
This made you feel a little more confident to give Rafe the proposal you had in mind as you strutted forward. He came to an expensive Brunch spot in between meetings with his laptop. Mostly because he wasn’t allowed to yell in a public place without consequences.
You hadn’t seen him in person in a while and he didn’t post a lot of photographs of himself. His buzzcut a new accessory and he wore casual clothes. Rafe typed away, not noticing you until you stopped at his table.
His brows furrowed at your shadow and then his blue eyes lifted. Rafe sat back a little, a ghost of a smirk curling his lip and he scanned you. Openly checking you out and his gaze lingered on your exposed skin.
“Hey,” He said your name with a nod and you cleared your throat. You couldn’t lose your nerve now.
“Hey. Do you have a minute? Can I talk to you?” You ripped the bandaid off and Rafe glanced at his computer.
“Yeah, I can talk for a bit.” He shut the laptop, gesturing expectantly at the chair across from him for you to sit.
You sat down, back straight and set your hands on the table. Fingers splayed and he glanced at them. He noticed the bare skin, no tattoo.
“I’m assuming this is about John B.” Rafe offered and you winced. “Yeah, heard you uh, really freaked out.” he had laughter in his voice and you glared at him.
“He deserved it. So did your little sister.” Rafe didn’t seem to care for that but you pressed on, “And he shouldn’t get away unscathed. Neither of them should.”
Rafe hummed and leaned forward. Elbows on the table and exposing his muscles. He waved his hand, encouraging you to finish. “Well? Spit it out.”
“What if we pretend to date?” You said quickly, “Just to get under their skin. They all dropped me and I want them to see I’m doing good. Better than good. With the person they hate.”
Rafe snorted and then openly laughed. He smoothed his hand over his face and your jaw tightened.
“I’m glad you think this is funny because I don’t. I walked in on the man I love fucking your sister and you think that’s entertaining?” Your voice was raising and Rafe shushed you.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”
You perked up, tilting your head but he held up a hand.
“But there’s gonna be conditions.” He declared and you sank into the chair. “Don’t pout. You don’t even know what they are.”
You kept quiet as Rafe assessed you with a hint of curiosity. “Conditions are, this is just pretend, don’t get attached to me,” the roll of your eyes did nothing to halt his sentence, “We don’t embarrass each other and lastly, I’m not doing this as a just a favor.”
You held your breath, waiting and Rafe brushed his nose with the knuckle of his finger.
“I get to taste you. At least one time.”
Sighing, you snorted. “That’s it? You want to kiss me?”
Rafe blinked at you in a condescending way. “No. I don’t kiss someone unless I like them. Maybe. I mean taste your pussy.”
Your glossy lips parted and hackles raised on the back of your neck. You didn’t immediately answer. Was it unreasonable? Not necessarily. It wasn’t like he mentioned actually fucking you. It was rude. But this was Rafe Cameron. You were asking him to help you with ridiculous revenge and if you got to cum once out of it, then you could live with that.
“Why that specifically? I’d expect you to want a blow job.”
Rafe exhaled and for the first time, he lost a glint of confidence but it returned just as quickly. “I like to be in control. And you’d be getting your pussy eaten, so why the hesitation?”
It wasn’t much of an answer but you decided your fate. Extending your hand, fingers decorated with delicate rings and Rafe met your grip. Shaking it firmly.
“Deal.”
“Good. Luck would have it, I could use a guest at the grand opening of a new business tonight. I’ll pick you up at five. We can take a picture together. Post it and all that shit girls do.”You let go of his hand with a gasp. It was already noon.
“What? That’s not enough time to get ready!” Rafe opened his laptop again, continuing whatever he was doing previously. “Better get going then.”
Growling in the back of your throat, you stomped away. You hoped John B and the crew regretted it as soon as possible because you couldn’t deal with the insufferable man long.
You were a half step from throwing a full tantrum when you rushed out of the house. Normally you had days in advance to prepare for an event. It took you almost forty minutes to pick an outfit. You hopped around on one foot as you slipped on a different pair of heels and Rafe opened the passenger door from the inside.
His blue eyes were light with amusement and he gave you an appreciative once over. “It’s a grand reveal of a business. Didn’t know you needed a ballgown for that.”
You snarled and slammed the door shut after landing in a heap in the seat.
“Hey, watch the door. This car was fucking expensive.” Rafe hissed but you rolled your eyes and turned your body away from him.
“I’m sure you have another one,” You looked at your pink polish on manicured fingernails. Rafe reached over and turned up his music. You made a face of distain and he snorted.
“What? What sort of awful pop music do you listen to?”
“Oh? Making assumptions are we?” You perked up and Rafe nodded before handing you his phone.
“Play something then if it keeps you from breaking my car.” You make a face at him and select a song from one of your favorite bands.
Rafe jolted slightly at the sound of explosive metal playing, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and fear. You crossed your legs and sighed in contentment.
“You’re kidding. Bubblegum princess likes screamo?” You nod along and mouth the lyrics, ignoring his little comment. Rafe doesn’t turn it off but keeps driving.
Minutes after a car ride of loud music and awkward tension, Rafe gets out of the car and you gather the material of your dress. He opens the side door, extending a hand while glancing at your heels.
“Shall we?” Accepting, Rafe sets his hand on your lower back, slowing his pace to match you as you enter the modern building. Big windows, clean smells, sharp cut designs and workers carrying trays of small portioned food. Glasses of alcohol and men wearing suits looking skeptical over the shine of the floor.
Everyone turned to look at you both stepping inside. Focusing on his contact on your body but they quickly shifted into greetings. No doubt to keep their positions. You plastered on pleasant listening expressions and let Rafe do all the talking.
You accepted a glass of champagne to keep yourself occupied as the time went on. Rafe knew his work well. You’d never heard him sound so sure of himself.
When he wasn’t occupied, you pulled out your phone. Opening the camera and picking out your favorite filter. Rafe gave his typical selfie face, bending down slightly to meet you more comfortably but you scowled and turned to him.
“If this is gonna work, you have to look like you like me.” Rafe remained still for a few seconds and then dipped down to press a kiss to your cheek. You quickly reached back up to snap the moment and made yourself remain calm as Rafe wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, tugging you close to him.
You took a couple of photos, feeling your skin on fire as he pulled away. His lips faintly covered in blush makeup. “We good?”
You looked at the selfies, mildly impressed at how genuine they looked and you noticed how Rafe had the smallest smile as he kissed your cheek.
“Yeah. Those look good. Thank you. I’m gonna post them.” You began uploading them on instagram and Rafe waited until they finished loading. He set his hand on your phone.
“Time for your end of the deal when this is over and I take you home.” You gulped but resigned. You agreed and fair was fair.
You made yourself keep your phone off until you were safe in your room. Rafe played his ridiculous fuck boy music as he drove you home and you pressed both thighs together tightly. You were nervous. Unsure why though. Rafe was hot and you were fully benefiting from this but it was the idea of eating your pussy was his reward. Sure, John B seemed to like it but never asked for it. You tapped your fingers along the beat of the song as he pulled into the driveway and shut it off.
You opened your legs, pulling up your dress and Rafe seized your knee. Squeezing firmly.
“Hold on. I’m gonna take you inside at least. I’m not a complete asshole.”
“Just get it over with.” You spoke and kept your eyes on the garage door. He caught your chin between his fingers, turning your head towards him.
“Nah, we’re gonna do it my way and it’s the right one. Besides, we wouldn’t be comfortable in my car. I’m too tall.”
“Brag much?” You glanced anywhere but his eyes and Rafe clicked his tongue.
“Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart. Show me inside like you have some manners.”
You carried your heels as you walked ahead, letting Rafe in your childhood home and into your bedroom. He looked around, lifting things up and started to open drawers.
You smacked his hand. “Stop it. Don’t mess anything up.”
Rafe caught your wrist, lightly tossing you to the bed and you squeaked as he mounted you. He had taken off his suit jacket but left everything else on. The look in his eyes held lust and a primal energy that had you breathless. His warm rough palms were heavy as he lifted your dress, admiring the curves of your hips and legs. Rafe ran his fingers along the material of your panties, smirking at the dampness growing in the center and he nudged your legs wider.
“You wanna know why I really wanna do this?” Even though it was a question, you didn’t answer and just stared up at him with wide eyes.
“Because I want you to know what whatever John B did with his cock is pathetic compared to me. I can make you cum harder with just my mouth than anything he ever did.”
Rafe grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, slapping his hands in your inner thighs and you gasped. Overwhelmed by his words and actions you were too distracted to protest.
He pulled your panties to the side, aggressively pinning your legs down with his forearms but he surprised you with his gentle way of kissing your pelvis. You whimpered, nipples hardening as he worked his way down and opened his mouth when he reached your pussy.
Rafe groaned, inhaling deeply so he could enjoy the smell of you and starting messily making out with your cunt. Your breathing was sharp, hands instinctively reaching for his head as he spread you even further and sucked your clit between his lips.
He wasn’t shy at all, his sharp jawline bumping your ass as Rafe licked the underside of your clit after lightly nipping. Your back arched and you started humping his face.
He curved his mouth so he could press his tongue inside you, moving his head to get every angle and you were closer to the edge faster than ever.
You were moaning, high pitched desperate sounds and the bed shifted under you. Lifting your head, your eyes were glassy as you saw Rafe palming his bulge and thrusting into his hand as he savored your pussy.
You hadn’t been touched like this in a while. Even before walking in to the sight of John B cheating on you, he had neglected you. Not paying attention to the ways you left yourself open for his touch.
Your ex boyfriend was soft whenever you were intimate. Never showing an ounce of roughness or dominance. Unlike Rafe, who was both of those things even when he was on his knees for you.
Your orgasm came like a storm, pulling you into bliss as a wail escaped you. Your hands were scrambling to put his free one on your tit, guiding him to squeeze it as he licked you through it.
Your entire body twitched as he didn’t stop but his own sounds of pleasure echoing through your room as Rafe came in his pants. Your eyes squeezed shut and he slowly lifted his skull. His mouth and chin were dripping with your slick.
Rafe’s eyes were hazy and you prepared for his quick departure but he crawled over you and slammed his lips to yours in a kiss. His fingers held your chin and his soft lips moved with yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing and your arms around his broad shoulders.
He met your tongue, sucking it into his mouth and then your lower lip. You tasted yourself and Rafe’s hand drifted to your back. He held you close to him with a new level of…tenderness.
Rafe broke away, sucking in gulps of air and brushed his knuckle against your cheek.
You both made a sound of pain and he shifted off of you. It was a pinch, deep to the bone of your ring finger. It ended just as quickly as it came on and you both looked at your hands.
There were matching moons. The cycle of the night.
You felt the air knock out of you. Despite the fucked out appearance of your messed up dress, panties to the side and bruised lips.
Your gazes met each others.
“No fucking way.”
Rafe Cameron was your soulmate.
Dividers by @starkeysprincess and @bloodibambiidoll
Tagging @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @webbluvrsugar @fear-is-truth @marchsfreakshow @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @hornyxdreamsx2 @redhead1180 @rafeyscurtainbangs @xxladymjxx
#rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe#rafe fic#rafe fluff#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#outer banks smut#outer banks x reader
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I was reading your leaving after a fight reaction and o got an idea could you please do one where reader leaves and goes to a bar and gets drunk they get a call from the bar and it’s just fluff
seventeen reacting to you getting drunk after a fight WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and arguments, & fluff too.
seungcheol grabs his keys, his mind racing. he can’t let you drown in this. when he arrives at the bar, he spots you immediately. you’re laughing with a group, a glass in hand. “hey!” he snaps, but the bark in his tone quickly fades as you turn to him “what the hell are you doing? this isn’t fun. you need to come home.” he tries to keep his voice steady, but the concern leaks through. “why? so we can fight more?” you roll your eyes, but u look vulnerable still. “you think you’re perfect? you’re not!” “i never said that. im just taking care of you” he bites. your eyes soften, and relief washes over him as you touch his arm, guiding him toward the door.
jeonghan's phone buzzes, cutting through his thoughts. it’s the bar, and his stomach drops. “on my way,” he snaps, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. when he arrives you turn, a grin spreading across your face that makes his heart ache. “jeonghan! come join the party!” “this isn’t a party! you need to come home y/n.” he reaches for the glass in your hand, gently prying it away. “let’s go home and talk this out. please babygirl” you hesitate, the fire in your eyes dimming as you look at him, the fight leaving your body.
joshua dont hop into the car, he throws himself in!!! he asks the bar number if you're doing okay as he drives. “there you are,” he says, pushing through the crowd. you know joshua cares too much. he’s sweet like that, always wanting to shield you from everything, even yourself. you look down at the bar top, the wood grain swirling under your fingertips. “i just... needed a break.” “from me?” he asks, sadly. you bite your lip. joshua’s expression softens, and he reaches out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “can we just talk about it? please?” u glance up, meeting his gaze, and it feels like home. “fine. but only if u promise to stop being so fucking cute when we fight.” he chuckles, relief flooding his features. “no promises, babe.”
junhui “where are you?” he texts after the call, worry oozing through the words. “out,” you reply tersely, taking another drink. “the bar? seriously?” “what if i am?” you shoot back, but inside, you know you’re pushing him away. “stay there. i’ll be there soon.” “don’t bother,” you type, but your heart sinks at the thought of him not showing up. a short while later, the door swings open, and there he is—his hair a little messy, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. he strides over, concern etched into his features. “what are you doing?” he asks, taking the seat next to you. “just enjoying my night,” you reply, a little too defensively. he raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “by drinking alone?” “i’m not alone; i have my drink,” you mutter, taking a long sip as if it could drown your frustration. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a gentle tone. “you know that’s not what i meant. you’re not okay. let me take care of you baby? hm?” you nod, feeling the walls you built starting to crumble. “fine, but if you keep looking at me like that, i might just forgive you too easily.”
hoshi wrinkled his nose the moment he smelled the strong drink you were drinking, he was clearly sweating like he was running a marathon to get to where you were. “you’re mad at me, but this isn’t how we solve things... you know you can tell me anything, right? even if it’s hard?” you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. “i just hate fighting with you. it feels like we’re always stuck in this cycle.” “i hate it too,” he admits, reaching for your hand. “but running away doesn’t fix it. let’s talk.” “talk? like, actually talk?” you tease, a small smile creeping onto your face. “yeah, that thing where we don’t just yell at each other,” he says, grinning back. “i’m pretty good at it.” you can’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood.
wonwoo slides the helmet, and hops on his motorcycle, a few moments later, the door swings open, and there he is—hands in his pockets, that serious yet soft expression making your heart ache. he spots you and makes his way over, concern etched in his features. “you’re really here,” he says, his voice low. “didn’t think you’d come,” you reply, trying to sound indifferent, but you're soft. “and leave you alone like this? not a chance.” he sits beside you, his presence instantly calming. you glance at him, catching the way his brows furrow slightly. he squeezes your hand and kisses your neck softly “let's go home, hm? i'll give u a nice warm bath and we'll talk before going to bed, is that okay, sweetie?”
woozi strides over the bar, hair messy, body stiff, eyes worried, after the call, and you can see the scolding ready to spill from his lips. “i can’t believe you left without telling me. i was worried sick. you really just left? you could’ve told me!” “ listen jihoon, i didn’t want to fight anymore. it was too much.” he flinches, he didn't mean to snap at you, but he was really worried. “i get it,” he replies quietly, his voice gentler now. “but you know you can tell me when it gets too heavy, right?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “what do u say we talk about it over ice cream? my treat,” he suggests, a playful grin breaking through. “ice cream sounds perfect,” you reply, matching his smile. “you always know how to fix things.” “it’s a talent,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, the heaviness of earlier fading into something sweet.
minghao asks the bartended to pass the phone to you, “i’m coming to get you,” minghao’s voice is steady, cutting through your haze. “you shouldn’t be there.” “i’m fine,” you snap, but even you can hear the slight slur in your words. he knows you better than that. “you’re not,” he replies. when minghao finally walks in, the door swings open, and the bell jingles, like a damn superhero coming to save the day. “hey,” he says softly, the frown on his face deepening as he takes in your state. “you look… rough.” “yeah, well, thanks for the observation,” you retort, but there’s no real bite in your words. he steps closer, the scent of him wrapping around you like a familiar hug. “i didn’t ask you to come.” “no, but you need me,” he counters, taking your hand, grounding you. his touch makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but lean into him, feeling the fight inside you melt away. “let’s talk, okay? i love you and I hate fighting with you.” you melt, and minghao smiles small.
mingyu in quesiton of minutes was there, tall and worried searching for you on the bar, the call made him stumble on his feet on his way there. “you really shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, but your heart races as he approaches, the worry etched on his face only making you want to lean into him. “and you shouldn’t be here alone. we both know you’ll feel worse if you stay out like this. just let me take care of you.” the softness in his tone makes your heart twist. “you don’t have to play the hero.” “but i want to,” he insists, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. the warmth of his grip pulls you back from the edge of your frustration, reminding you of everything you love about him. “please?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing as you look into his eyes. “fine. let’s go home.” “thank you,” he whispers, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home, before arriving in.
seokmin not even five minutes later appears on the bar, seokmin steps inside, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on you. relief floods his expression, and he rushes over, pulling you into his arms before you can say a word. “what the hell, you scared me,” he murmurs, hugging your back tightly. his warmth seeps into you, and you can’t help but melt a little. “you’re drunk.” his concern wraps around you like a blanket, and suddenly, the anger feels distant. “let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, still holding you close. “i don’t want you to feel like this.” “it’s just… everything’s a mess,” you admit, your voice cracking a bit. “we were fighting and—” “i know,” he interrupts softly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but we can talk about it later. right now, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” the sincerity in his gaze makes you want to cry, and you nod slowly. “okay.” he smiles gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s go home, yeah?”
seungkwan the minutes tick by slowly, and every time the door swings open, your heart skips a beat. finally, you spot him striding in, “it’s… it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” he says. you pout. “i can take care of myself.” “you’re making this harder than it has to be,” he grumbles. as you slide off the bar stool, he’s already there, an arm around your waist, guiding you out. you laugh, the sound a bit shaky. “u should try being less of a pain in the ass, kwanniee” you tease, but it’s soft, a flicker of something sweet cutting through the tension. he smirks, finally breaking into a grin. “noted. now, let’s get you home before you say something else you’ll regret.”
vernon would keep his emotions bottled up, when he's almost purple in worry, would run to the bar fast, breathing properly only when he finally sees you. “i don’t need you to babysit me,” you sulk when you feel him taking you from the bar stool, “just… please? for once, let me be the responsible one,” he replies squeezing your waist. “oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “i was just having a good time.” “more like trying to forget about our fight,” he counters, crossing his arms, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “let’s get you home before you embarrass yourself further.”
chan before the bartender ended the call, was already on the way. the moment he reaches you, he slips an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the noise. “you okay?” he asks, searching your face with those steady eyes. you can see the maturity in his expression, the way he balances concern in his heart with the logic, “i will be,” you say, though you know it’s not entirely trrue. his presence calms the storm brewing inside you, and u lean into him. “you’re allowed to feel things,” he expresses, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “but next time, can we talk instead of shouting? i’d rather understand what you’re going through.” you nod, the way he watches over you even after an imense fight. “yeah, that sounds good babe...” he smiles with the full of love name.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x oc#seventeen fic#seventeen imagine#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#junhui x reader#seokmin x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#lee chan x reader#dino x reader#minghao x reader#mingyu x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader
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I’ll think of the jist
When reader is well enough to work for ambessa she uses a rollator (walker with like a table/seat) so she can carry multiple things at once that she couldn’t with a cane.
reader interrupts a meeting quietly to give Ambessa something, the room is full of big strong people who look down on sick ppl even if it’s genetic (:/)
They comment on her ability to work and ambessas like Nuh uh she fine brotha and Ambessa thinks nothing of it, reader thinks a lot of it and can’t sleep
lol thank you goodbye
MORE THAN ENOUGH
Ambessa x f!reader
Synopsis: Being Ambessa’s assistant and having chronic pain was difficult, but it was always worse when you tried to help on more manageable days only be to told that you are incapable.
Request: @possessedmagpie
A/N: This is part two of Chronically Ill
The soft light of morning slipped through the towering windows of Ambessa Medarda’s estate, a golden glow painting the cold stone walls. The days always started early in Noxus, the city that never slept, but for you, mornings weren’t a signal to begin. They were another checkpoint in the never-ending cycle of managing your body’s rebellion against itself.
You shifted beneath the thick covers, testing your limbs carefully. The ache that usually gripped you like iron shackles had ebbed to a low thrum today. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. Relief flickered in your chest, tempered by caution. You had learned long ago that even “good days” came with limits.
The other constant in your mornings lay beside you, Ambessa, her powerful frame still as she slept, her features softened in the pale light. Despite the countless demands on her time and energy, she always made space for you. She had stayed the night again, likely at your insistence, despite her busy schedule. She’d never admit it, but you suspected she worried about you constantly.
As if sensing your gaze, Ambessa stirred, her amber eyes blinking open. A small smile tugged at her lips as she caught you watching her.
“Good morning, little one,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, still laced with sleep.
“Good morning,” you replied, voice hushed, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate peace between you.
Her eyes searched your face, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked, the question laden with genuine care.
You considered her words, stretching carefully to test the limits of your body. “Better,” you said after a moment. “Not great, but I think I can manage today.”
Ambessa propped herself up on one elbow, her expression skeptical but not dismissive. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “I want to try. I can’t stand feeling useless, Ambessa.”
“You’re never useless,” she said firmly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Your value isn’t measured by how much you can do. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” you murmured, though the weight in your chest said otherwise.
Her hand lingered against your cheek, her touch both grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “But promise me you’ll be careful. No pushing yourself too hard. If you need to stop, you stop. Understood?”
“Understood,” you said softly, leaning into her palm.
She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to make your heart ache in the best way.
By mid-morning, the estate was bustling with activity. Servants and guards moved swiftly through the halls, their boots echoing against the polished stone floors. The sheer size of the estate could be overwhelming, even intimidating, but today you felt determined.
The rollator was your lifeline, its sturdy frame and built-in seat allowing you to navigate the estate without collapsing. It wasn’t a perfect solution—there were still moments when the pain flared unexpectedly, threatening to rob you of the strength to keep going—but it gave you a sense of independence.
Today, you carried an important correspondence marked with the crest of General Vessar. The message had arrived early, its contents urgent enough to require Ambessa’s immediate attention. Despite the challenges of moving through the estate, you were determined to deliver it personally.
The grand hall where Ambessa was meeting her advisors loomed ahead, the heavy double doors closed but not impenetrable. Pausing just outside, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the ache radiating through your legs.
The moment you entered, the room fell silent. The rollator’s wheels squeaked faintly as you moved across the polished floor, your presence a disruption in the midst of their intense discussions.
At the head of the long table, Ambessa sat tall and imposing, her amber eyes sharp and focused. The sight of her sent a pang of comfort through your chest; she was the one constant in a world that often felt too harsh to navigate.
“Ambessa,” you said, your voice soft but steady.
Her gaze snapped to you, her expression shifting immediately. The hard edge she wore in these meetings melted away, replaced by a warmth that seemed out of place amidst the cold, calculating figures around her.
“Little one,” she greeted, her voice low and tender.
You grabbed the sealed letter on the table of your rollator as you moved it a bit closer and held it out to her. “This arrived this morning. From General Vessar.”
She shifted in her chair slightly as she turned to face you, taking the letter from your hands with a subtle nod. Her fingers brushed yours briefly—a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft enough that only you could hear.
But the moment was short-lived.
“She’s still working for you?” a voice called from the far end of the table.
Your chest tightened.
The man who spoke leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with disbelief. “How can someone in her condition handle the responsibilities you’ve given her?”
Another advisor chimed in, her voice quieter but no less cutting. “It does seem unwise. The demands of this role require someone—”
“Capable,” the first man interrupted. “Someone who isn’t constantly compromised.”
The words struck like a blade, each syllable carving into your carefully built armor.
Ambessa’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her movements deliberate and commanding.
“Enough,” she said, her voice sharp and unforgiving.
The room fell silent.
Ambessa’s gaze swept over the advisors like a storm about to break. Her presence was a force of nature, and for a moment, you pitied the fools who dared challenge her judgment.
“You will not question her competence,” she said, her tone cold enough to freeze fire. “Do any of you doubt my ability to judge who is fit for their role?”
No one dared respond.
“Let me make something very clear,” she continued, her voice like a blade. “Y/N has proven her worth time and time again. She is stronger and more useful than any of you could hope to be, and I will not tolerate such ignorance in my presence.”
Her words were a shield, protecting you from their scorn, but they couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the weight of their judgment was crushing.
Ambessa turned to you, her expression softening. “Go rest, little one,” she said gently.
You nodded, your throat too tight to form words. As you left the room, the rollator steady beneath your hands, you couldn’t shake the sting of their words.
Back in your quarters, the pain returned, not the physical ache in your joints, but the sharp, unrelenting sting of humiliation and self-doubt. You sank onto the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands.
The echoes of their voices replayed in your mind, each word a reminder of what you couldn’t do, of how the world saw you. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you gave, it was never enough.
You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt the mattress dip beside you. A familiar hand rested on your shoulder, warm and grounding.
“Little one,” Ambessa said softly.
You wiped at your eyes, turning away from her. “I’m fine,” you lied.
She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head rested against her shoulder.
“They don’t understand,” she said after a moment. “They never will. But you don’t need their approval.”
“I just… I wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I wanted to prove I could still do something right.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re more than enough. Don’t let them take that away from you.”
Her words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of despair.
“I’m tired,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your chest. “I’m so tired, Ambessa.”
“I know,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet empathy. “But you don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here, I always will be.”
You whimpered a little, holding back tears as you sunk into her arms as she lied down on the bed with you, stroking the back of your head for comfort.
She stayed with you long into the night, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. When sleep finally came, it was with the comforting knowledge that no matter how heavy the world felt, Ambessa would always be there to share the burden.
A/N: I got a peace offering to write this, loving it.
#ambessa x reader#ambessa x you#ambessa fanfic#ambessa medarda#ambessa#ambessa arcane#arcane ambessa#arcane fanfic#arcane#lesbian fanfic#lesbian#fluffy fanfic#fluff#hurt/comfort fanfic#hurt/comfort#chronic illness#chronic pain#chronically ill#fanfic#fanfic writing
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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 27
(Neige is a Mourning Dove Harpy, and often sings with other Mourning Doves in the early mornings, calling with them and cooing as he flies around Sage Island. Neige is a stress plucker, so he will occasionally have bald-spots on his neck where he had picked and plucked his own feathers. He usually tosses his feathers after molts, but has since been collecting and saving his feathers so he can use them to make something for the Human with them)
Warnings; ovulation, explanation of ovulation and menstrual cycles, less than behaved students, protective Platonic Yanderes, several yanderes, competing yanderes, more fluff, comfort chapter, selkie, hellcat, sphinx, harpies, minotaur, shadow-man, drider, plant Nymph, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Werewolf, Shinigami, Unicorn, Kelpie, Water Nymph, Satyr, Fawn, merfolk, Cecaelia, Genie, Naga, Dragon, Vampire Bat,
~~~~
Things had settled down considerably when Malleus and the other students- those that came with Crowley and Diasomnia- left. The tension that had been in the air lulled and quickly faded away along with the icy cold. Thankfully, you had managed to keep Malleus calm and bring him back to reason without incident and you knew Crowley and the other professors were glad too.
You sighed, sitting back on one of the many couches with Grim as Divus was quite content to join you, looking as worn and stressed as you felt. Even Trein seemed to be counting himself lucky that Malleus was convinced to leave without incident. It vaguely interested you to see the professors in such a domestic setting as the all seemed much more approachable now that they were the ones guarding you. Part of you felt relieved to get a break from the intensity of the other students.
"Tea?"
You looked up somewhat startled to a cup of tea being held out to you. Out of politeness, you accepted the cup while Trein joined you on your other side, lounging on the long couch with a sigh.
"I had a few questions for you, if I may?"
"Of course Professor."
"Please, Trein or Mozus would suffice, (Y/n). No need for formalities in your own home."
"Force of habit, Sir."
"How often is your cycle? It would behoove us to plan in advance so your schedule can be addressed and so we are made aware ahead of time."
You sipped the tea to give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts, figuring one of the professors would ask eventually. At least they seemed far less influenced by your scent and by your ovulation, so they seemed safe enough to let your guard down around them. The tea was a nice herbal blend that was gentle and soothing in your throat.
"Monthly. The bleeding period marks an end of the cycle to begin anew. Ovulation is at the height of the cycle, meaning more fertile, not more interested in finding a mate."
"Mating isn't required for ovulation?"
"No. But there is a set timer on my fertility as a result. Every month marks another sex cell- we call these cells eggs- lost and most Humans have a set number of eggs. I still have years left on my timer, but it does continue to march on. When I am out of eggs, the cycle stops and I am considered to no longer be fertile."
"How long does the actual ovulation period last?"
"The height of it is only 12-24 hours. But the hormonal imbalance leading up to and after take a few days."
Trein nodded, sipping his own tea as he hummed watching the drink pensively. You watched Crowley walk over to the angled couch next to the one you were on, curling his legs under him like a great big bird perching. His talons ended in wickedly sharp points, and you vaguely realized he must have removed his shoes before settling. Divus spoke up next, his voice a relaxed drawl.
"So for at least a day everyone on campus will be attempting to burst the doors down. Lucky for us today and tomorrow are free of classes. I trust you've been keeping up with your homework?"
"As best I can. It has been a hectic first month. Goodness knows I've been attacked so many times it feels like years have passed."
Divus frowned at this, watching you for a long moment before he spun his red riding crop between his gloved fingers. A sudden glow came from the gem on it and you found your clothes had changed to comfortable lounge-wear in reds, blacks, and whites. While you examined your new clothes a sudden weight fell on your shoulders and you realized he had placed his fur over you. This must have been an act of extreme trust or protectiveness as even Crowley looked surprised with Divus' behavior.
The lovely professor patted the top of your head gently as he settled back down, almost insisting you stay put where you had settled. Trein seemed to be of a mind with Divus as the couch changed shape to a much more comfortable and plush piece of furniture, the large screen on the far wall adjacent flicked to life. As you got comfortable in the large and warm fur coat, you heard footsteps and turned to see Coach Vargas and Sam approaching with their arms full of snacks.
Grim purred excitedly and snuggled into your lap as a movies began to play, the professors all settling down around you.
~•§•~
"Can you believe this, Rook? Telling us- her sworn guards- that we can't be present to protect her during such a delicate time!"
The Harpy was ranting angrily to the Drider that accompanied him, Epel keeping pace next to the large Drider as they followed the Peacock. Naturally, Vil was furious he wasn't allowed to even accompany the others in confronting Malleus. He deserved the right to be there after saving those Royal Sword Academy fools that had let themselves be stabbed in the back by that prince. Instead, Azul and his two goons were selected to go.
He was so angry he could scream!
"I don't believe we have actually sworn to anything, Roi du Poison, merely agreed to accept duties should they fall upon us. Non, it would not be fair to claim we are sworn knights, but perhaps Mademoiselle Trickster would look upon us favorably if we did swear ourselves to her protection."
"We will have to do that when the duty to guard her falls upon Pomefiore. Which means you at least have a few days to shape up, Epel!"
The plant Nymph jumped at suddenly being called out, nodding quickly to the temperamental Harpy ahead of him. Epel had been busy thinking about the Human in question, remembering how soft her hands were holding his and the way she stood up for him so passionately. He wanted to protect her from everyone else and prove he can take on the protector role for her, so her soft hands never have to harden with work.
"O-of course, Housewarden Vil!"
"Don't think I've forgotten how you kept slipping back into your accent during the photoshoot despite my warnings."
"Right... Sorry, Housewarden Vil, I will work harder."
"As you should. We all need to be at peak when we finally have the right to guard her."
Rook and Epel both nodded, quickly agreeing with the proud Harpy.
"Yes, Vil!"
~•§•~
"To think, no one was selected this week! I thought we already prooved we were trustworthy to guard that Mousey!"
Leona snarled and paced atop his sun-warmed rocks where he usually lounged in Savanaclaw, clearly in a bad mood. He was growling and his tail lashed behind him as he walked, not only angry at being cheated out of a day so that ridiculous Malleus could stop his bitch-fit, but furious he was not trusted at this crucial time. Nevermind the fact that the same dorm is not likely to be selected twice in a row, Leona was angry and felt cheated.
"I'm just sayin', Leona, maybe it's a good thing she's stuck with the teachers."
"And how," Leona roared, "is this possibly a good thing!?"
"Because no one else can get to her either, right?"
"..."
"If they're keeping us away, they're keeping everyone away."
"Ruggie, for once you actually seem to have a brain rattling around in that skull of yours."
The Gnoll huffed at the obvious insult, planning to steal all of the cash Leona had in his wallet as revenge. Jack was sitting nearby, unsure what was his rank now that Savanaclaw was no longer guarding the precious Human. It seemed like Leona wasn't keen to run him off, in any case.
"Isn't this a good thing for her too? I mean, yesterday was rough on her with the Overblot and the attack. I think she deserves some time away from it all."
"Oh? And you think the professors aren't just going to stress her out more?"
"No," Jack shook his head, his fur bouncing with his movements, "you saw how mad professor Divus got when you made her skip his class. And Trein is always praising her any time she answers a question in class. I think the professors all see her as their pup and are going to act like she is their pup. Even Headmage Crowley calls her his little chick."
"Annoying as you are, you have a point, Puppers. Nothing to do about it now."
Leona sighed and flopped down almost dramatically on the warm rocks, the tension in the dorm falling as the Lion returned to lounging. Of course, everyone was still keen to know who was declared winner after the interruption during the Spelldrive. Most of the Pride figured they would win, not even aware Malleus had been holding back during their game.
~•§•~
"Do you think we should tell Papa Hades?"
"Tell him what?"
"That she is in the middle of her cycle!"
"I mean, maybe, but Headmage Crowley said he has it under control."
"Come on, Idi-nii!"
Ortho whined loudly, making Idia look over at him from the game he had been playing with his online buddies, trying to set up a game with the more absent than usual MuscleRed. Idia figured everyone was just gonna let the professors handle it, no need for him to step in. Even if there was a problem- which there wasn't- he still had cameras all over that building and would be the first to know of any issues.
"What??"
"Aren't you the least bit worried about her?"
"She has the entire staff of NRC as her DPS, Tanks, and Healers, what would I be worried for?"
Ortho sighed, seeming to visibly deflate as his breath fogged up his mask. Idia was right, of course, but Ortho was still worried. He liked playing games with (Y/n) as well as talking with her about everything he could think of. It was only natural the young Shinigami was worried.
"Look, Ortho, we can video call her later if she feels up for it, okay?"
"Okay..."
~•§•~
"To think, those-! Those-! Those hooligans know (Y/n) is in the middle of her cycle and completely exposed to their vile thoughts!"
"Riddle," Trey tried to soothe the upset Unicorn who was prancing and pacing and tossing his head back and forth angrily, "I'm sure the professors have it well in hand."
"Do they, Trey? Do they? Absolute hogwash!"
"You saw Malleus return to Diasomnia, and there was no black sky or rolling storm so he left peacefully. Everyone else who could pose an issue couldn't possibly stand against all of the staff together."
Riddle stopped his trotting and pawed at the ground in frustration, ripping up a bit of the grass sod under his hooves. Even his tail was curling and flicking as he took back up his worried trotting pace. Riddle was working himself into a meltdown and even Trey wasn't doing much to help soothe the distressed Unicorn, though not for a lack of trying.
"-and if someone gets by them, what then? No matter what happens someone-"
Riddle was babbling at this point, occasionally kicking one leg back as he walked and stomped angrily. He was obviously no longer listening to any of the four who stood trying to calm him, muttering axiously and snorting every few steps. No matter what Trey said there was clearly no snapping Riddle out of his current mindset.
Cater had retired to lay along Trey's back, lazily looking at his phone as he checked the ever increasing follower count on (Y/n)'s magicam account. Cater was glad that the staff thought of adding himself, Vil, and Rook as page admins so the soft Human would be kept away from the thirsty messages sent by countless monster accounts. At least he could delete these messages and send the tame ones through for her to read.
"THE TREES!"
"The... Trees?"
"Yes, the trees outside of Ramshackle! How did I miss it? They're easily a way someone could get in and hurt dear (Y/n)! We must warn the Headmage at once!"
Riddle reared up, whinnying loudly as he took off towards the mirror, Trey tiredly following after with Cater tagging along on the ride. This left Ace and Deuce looking at one another before shrugging. They wanted to see (Y/n), sure, but they also knew better than to bother the teachers or her many guards. Maybe they would text and check in on her.
~•§•~
Azul sighed as he and the twins returned to the Monstro Lounge, feeling surprisingly worn even though they weren't the ones facing off with the Dragon. Even being around with that tantalizing scent in the air was all too tempting an offer to their senses despite the beast that stood guarding the soft Human. All three had a taste of those pheremones and felt their own bodies cry out in response, longing for a taste or just to submerge themselves in the alluring scent that taunted them.
"Ne, Azul, d'ya think we're gonna get to guard Shrimpy soon?"
"I certainly don't see why not. Erikír's betrayal and Overblot certainly put us in good standing with her given we were who she sought out in times of strife. Leona was allowed to guard her after he proved himself, I don't see why the same won't be true for us."
"She sure smelled good though. Just wanna take a big bite and squeeze till she pops!"
Azul frowned at the swaying Eel that giggled to himself, biting playfully at the empty air in front of him. He had been in a considerably good mood following the brief encounter with (Y/n) and had not stopped talking about her. Similarly, Jade seemed to be lost in his own world, standing off to the side with his mouth open and his eyes closed.
Azul could tell immediately that both twins were affected by (Y/n)'s alluring scent and longed to return to the soft Human for another dose of that scent. Not like Azul was any better. He could feel the way he longed to reach out and grab her, holding her close to his chest while he nuzzled her neck. The things he would do if he were only allowed.
~•§•~
"Hey, Jamil, what d'you think made the wish work when (Y/n) made it?"
"Hm?"
"The wish. What do you think made it work?"
"I don't know, but don't you dare make another one or you might just wind up killing her on accident."
"But what if it means something?"
Jamil sighed as he tidied up his nest of pillows, Kalim's beautiful golden lamp shining in the center. The Genie was lounging next to his lamp, toying with the gem-topped lid and smiling absently. It had been on his mind ever since it happened last week and he wondered if it had something to do with the Human.
"I doubt it means anything. You can't grant another wish for her, that's final."
"But why? I'm sure it will be fine-!"
"Kalim! You kill anyone who makes a wish. Anyone. No matter how well intentioned you are, you kill them. Consider yourself lucky it didn't kill her. Not even being a member of the Al-Asim family would be able to save you from Malleus if you killed her. You are so lucky it didn't turn out differently. Don't tempt fate."
~•§•~
"Malleus?"
Lilia asked gently, approaching the sullen prince who sat looking out over the Diasomnia domain. Though he had agreed to leave at the behest of (Y/n), he still wanted to fly straight back and make that soft Human he adored accept him as her mate. His instincts roared and rattled in its gilded jail to be set free so that he may take what is rightfully his.
Malleus didn't even hear the other Fae approaching as he glowered and stared outwards. He wanted his mate and he didn't want to have to keep his distance, but those words kept repeating in his head and tormenting his every moment. The Dragon didn't know his beloved (Y/n) could ever look so angry like she did in that moment.
'I don't think I want to be part of your Hoard.'
Ice slowly crept up under him as those words repeated in his head and he clutched his chest in pain. Lilia took notice as well and quickly stepped in to soothe the Dragon. Though he wished she had done it differently and without threat, Lilia had to admit that (Y/n) handled Malleus expertly and he had no doubt she would fare just as well as his bonded mate.
"Malleus, I'm going to guess you keep hearing her threatening to leave the Hoard? She told you she wanted to stay so long as you could respect her space during her cycle. She still wants to be in the Hoard, she's just under a lot of stress right now."
"... It hurts, Lilia. I didn't think it would hurt so much."
"Love can hurt. Especially when you already love someone so much you just want to hold them close, but they aren't to that point yet. (Y/n) Isn't to that point yet, but she will be."
"What if she denies me? If she turns me away when I finally bare my heart to her?"
"She won't."
Malleus slumped into his arms, hiding his face as he fell to his knees at the window, his heart seizing in pain at the thought of what could happen. He didn't want to face the loneliness of his existence for much longer. It was a painfully lonely existence, the life of a Dragon, but now there was a light in his darkness, stars in his inky sky, the moon shining upon his face in the endless night.
The stars never seemed quite as bright without his darling love close by. The air was never as sweet. The whining of the wind was not as musical. Even his own nest felt so very empty and lonesome.
Lilia rest a hand on the Dragon's shoulder, laying one wing across his back to soothe him. It wasn't the embrace Malleus was craving, but he still took comfort from his friend, Hoard member, and caretaker. All the Bat could really do was be there for the Dragon while they waited.
~•§•~
You were cozy and extremely comfortable in what was now a cocoon comprised of Divus' fur, blankets, snuggly stuffed animals Trein insisted you take, and one happy boy Grim.
Sam was busy making a delicious smelling gumbo in the kitchen while you hummed along happily to the jaunty tune of the movie you were watching. It was catchy and bouncy in all the right ways that had you practically wiggling in your cocoon like a happy silk moth larva. The five men had been quite happy to show you all of their favorite timeless classics and you had to admit the beasts certainly knew how to swing.
For what felt like the first time in a very long time, you were able to just exist and enjoy what you were doing. There was no worry of gently navigating around the beasts feelings or the constant arms race they all seemed to be in for your affections. You could just vibe and snack to your heart's content, feeling so very protected in the large cuddle fortress you had made out of the couch.
Trein had even brought over Lucius who cuddled up to Grim and wrestled with the energetic kit. Even as the two napped in the growing pile of cuddle, Divus was the one to remind you to drink and move around every once in a while. Crowley had been trying to get Trein or Divus to give up their spot to no avail and pouted next to Vargas on the other couch.
If you could get more time like this, maybe things wouldn't be too bad after all.
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Tim Drake & Danny Phantom: Two Lost Souls
So, here’s the thing: Tim Drake and Danny Fenton are kinda like two sides of the same coin, right? Both of them have this deep, gnawing loneliness that follows them around like a shadow. Tim’s always the reliable one, the one everyone leans on, but inside, he’s just as lost as the rest of them. And Danny? He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, juggling being a half-ghost while trying to fit in as a regular high school kid.
When they finally meet, it’s like fireworks and disaster all rolled into one. Tim sees in Danny a kindred spirit—someone who knows what it’s like to fight against the odds. But the truth is, they’re both haunted by their pasts. Tim’s trying to live up to the legacy of the Robins before him, and Danny’s just trying to find his place in the world.
In those quiet moments they share, you can see the pain in their eyes. They both carry scars, some physical, others hidden beneath layers of bravado and humor. It’s a fragile connection they have, filled with unspoken words and heavy silences. They want to reach out to each other, to be the support the other desperately needs, but fear holds them back.
What if they get too close? What if they’re both just too broken to be each other’s salvation? Tim’s seen too much death, and Danny’s tasted the darkness that comes with being a ghost. They share a fear that if they lean on one another too hard, they’ll end up shattering.
But then there are those moments when everything feels too heavy. Times when they’re fighting side by side, and one of them gets hurt—just a little too close to the edge. In those seconds, the reality hits them hard: What if one day they lose each other? It’s a thought that makes Tim’s heart race and Danny’s breath hitch. They both know what it’s like to lose someone they care about, and the idea of facing that pain again feels unbearable.
Danny sometimes looks at Tim and thinks, What if I can’t protect him? And Tim, always the strategist, thinks, What if I’m too late next time? They’ve both lost so much already; losing one another would be the breaking point.
But for now, they’re stuck in this endless cycle of longing and loneliness, two lost souls trying to figure out if they can even be saved. The fear of being left behind lingers in the air between them, a tension that keeps them from getting too close, even as they yearn for something more. They know they could have something beautiful if they could just break down those walls—a friendship, a partnership, something more.
And yet, as they stand together, fighting the darkness, they can’t shake the feeling that every battle could be their last. They cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they can face whatever comes next together.
#tim drake#danny phantom#danny fenton#brain dead#dead tired#dc x dp#danny lost everyone in amity park#tim lost everyone from his red robin run#they both have a fear of loss that makes ot hard for them to connect with others bcs they cant stand the idea of losing more ppl#they both know they'd fall in love which makes it all the harder#something about angst between tim and danny's relationship is just too good#this was an impromptu though since i've only had deadtired brainrots all day
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Requesting IDW Megatron x Lost Light human liaison reader. Based on the song "Heaven's Light" from Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Thanks for the request! Sorry for such a long delay! I spent a lot of time writing and rewriting this because I wanted to get it right. I went with Autobot Megatron for this one. I hope that is okay with you! Feedback is always appreciated! :D
Heaven's Light
Pairing: IDW Megatron x Human Liaison Reader
Word Count: 3588
Summary: Though he is now a hardworking Autobot aboard the Lost Light who's just trying to make up for the sins he's committed in his past, Megatron still believes he is a monster who is unworthy of ever being loved. That all changes when you, a little human liaison from Earth, makes your way into his life and implores him to reluctantly open his spark.
Megatron knows he is a monster.
He has done horrible things. He has killed, he has tortured, he has maimed. His recharge cycles are plagued with the echoes of screams and the fallen frames of mangled bodies. He stands atop a pile of them. When he looks at his servos, they are drenched in wasted energon that isn’t his own. Nightmares, Rune calls them. Terrible warped memories of his past. He cannot escape them. The guilt will stain him forever.
Megatron is aware that most of the Lost Light’s crew is afraid of him. With the exceptions of others like the captain, most steer clear of his way. When they see him thumping down a hallway with steps that seem to shake the entire ship, they scurry like glitch mice when a cyber cat is near. They speak to him with tremors in their voices and rattling in their joints.
Not that he makes things easy for them, he admits. Megatron is aloof, calculating, and antisocial. His violent tendencies have devolved into simple growls and annoyed huffs. He’s not here to make friends. He’s here to do a job: atone for the sins he has committed.
And yet, the nightmares remain. They do not leave no matter what he does.
Megatron is not a gentle being. He knows he is rough around the edges, and that scares people. So when he hears the announcement about a human boarding the Lost Light, his first instinct is to avoid them at all costs. It does not matter if they are a liaison. Humans are fragile and too easy to break. And he hardly believes Earth wants their delegate to be interacting with the former Decepticon warlord who has slaughtered thousands.
Unfortunately, his dimwitted captain has different plans.
“No.” Megatron crosses his arms and lifts his chin defiantly. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on.” Rodimus throws his helm back with an exasperated groan. “You're the perfect bot for the job! Why can’t you just say yes?”
“I did not board this ship to inevitably become a human babysitter.” Megatron’s words come out harsh and unyielding. “The answer is no, Rodimus. Get someone else to do it.”
“I agree,” Drift says. “In no way can I see this resulting in a positive outcome. Um…no offense Megatron.”
Megatron snorts. “None taken.”
“You two don’t understand.” Rodimus rubs his forehelm in faux exhaustion. “The human is here to learn about Cybertronian history and culture. Who else knows more about that sort of stuff than you?”
Megatron bares his teeth. “Are you calling me old?”
“I’m calling you knowledgeable,” Rodimus shoots back. “You can tell the human so much about us, more than Drift or I could combined.”
“That is not my area of profession. Get Rewind to do it.”
“No,” Rodimus objects. “I want you to do it.”
“Rewind would be a much better option if we want this human to successfully integrate into the ship’s social life,” Drift advises.
Rodimus punches the other mech squarely in the shoulder plating. Drift yelps and jumps back. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Are you on my side with this or not?” Rodimus snaps.
“I’m on the side of wanting the human to like us, and I don’t believe pairing them with Megatron is the best way to achieve that! Again, no offense to Megatron, but we need to make a good impression.” Drift straightens and rubs his shoulder, wincing. “We have to think about this clearly, Rodimus.”
“I am thinking clearly. I am the most clear-thinking mech in this room. I have never been thinking clearer, and I don’t think I ever will.” He points at Megatron. “You are going to be this human’s companion for the next six cyber-weeks they are here. You will educate them on our ways, teach them our history, and convince them that we are awesome and amazing and incredible. Understand? Come on, remember their little human motto! ‘Salvation through understanding, understanding brings in the light!’ There’s no way you can say no to that!”
Megatron feels indignation churn within his tank. That indignation turns into something dangerous, something he has not been able to snuff out of himself completely since he’s turned over a new leaf. That something is hostility borne from the frustration of being told to do something he doesn’t want to do. He snarls, but Rodimus does not cower. The red-and-orange mech’s plating bristles and clacks together in an act of instinctual dominance. The two leaders stare each other down in a silent battle. It takes Drift being the middle-man to relieve some of the tension crackling between them. “Alright, enough! Both of you stop right now! The human is going to be here at any moment, and you want their first impression of you two to be this? Calm down and get a hold of yourselves!”
Megatron scoffs. Without looking at either of them, he shoulders past Drift towards the door. “I will do as you say, Rodimus,” he rumbles. “But don’t you think I will enjoy a second of it. You are making a mistake.”
He hears Drift whisper “This is a bad idea” to the captain. Megatron stomps off, ignoring how every mech around him presses themselves against the walls to avoid his path. They should have chosen Rewind.
You are…not what Megatron was expecting.
You arrive on the ship with a swagger in your step and not an ounce of nervousness within you. Your eyes are wide with awe and your little dermas are split in a wide open smile as you turn in a circle to take everything in. There’s something distinctly adorable about the way you shift the weight of your stuffed backpack from one shoulder to the other and drag a tiny little suitcase behind you that makes the softer side of Megatron want to say “Awwww.” Apparently he isn’t the only one either; Rodimus is smiling like an idiot, his servos fidgeting like he wants to scoop you up and coo at you dotingly.
Drift elbows him. He snaps to attention and announces himself grandly, which makes Megatron want to cringe. “Liaison Y/N! So good to finally meet you in person! Welcome to the Lost Light!” He kneels and extends his servo with surprising mindfulness. “I am Rodimus Prime, captain of this ship.”
Your smile widens when you hold the tip of his index digit between both of your little fleshy servos and shake it. “I am honored to be here, captain.”
“The honor is all ours. And please, just call me Rodimus. You're one of us now. There’s no need for formalities.” Rodimus rises and gestures to Drift. The red-and-white mech steps forward and dips his head while he is introduced. “This is Drift, my third-in-command. And this is Megatron, my…co-captain.”
Megatron keeps his expression neutral when he steps forward to loom over you like a mountain. You have to crane your neck back in order to take all of him in. Here we go, he thinks. Any moment now, you’ll recognize his name. You’ll retreat to a safe distance. Maybe even start screaming in fear. He shouldn’t be surprised. After all, he is Megatron, feared former leader of the Decepticons, one of the most ruthless and terrifying beings in the-
Your smile does not waver and your attitude remains just as bright. “Megatron. It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Y/N.”
It takes a moment for him to register your words. Wait, what?
Rodimus coughs and eyeballs him critically. “Oh.” Megatron blinks. “Um. Yes. Hello. It’s wonderful to, uh, meet you too.”
Drift snickers. He wants to punch him.
“I apologize for his flustered state.” Rodimus laughs nervously. “We’re all just very excited to have you on board. This is the first time much of the crew will be meeting a human, so I hope you’ll understand that some of us might not know how to interact with you.”
“It’s no problem,” you say. “I get it. But that’s why I’m here! So if you are curious about me, then I encourage it.”
Rodimus relaxes, looking relieved. “Yes, of course! We’re connecting two worlds! It’s absolutely incredible.”
“If anyone makes you actively uncomfortable though, please let one of us know,” Drift adds. “We understand that there is a clear power imbalance between you and all of us. It’s important that you feel safe here.”
“Well, that’s why Megs is going to be your partner during your time here!” Rodimus grabs Megatron’s shoulder and shakes him. It takes all of his strength not to growl. “You're here because you want to know more about us, right? Well, my co-captain is extremely knowledgeable in all things Cybertronian. He’ll do his best to answer any and all questions you might have!”
You show no trepidation over this. In fact, your eagerness only seems to grow. Megatron is honestly stunned. “Oh, absolutely, I’d love that! As long as it’s okay with you?” You look back at him inquiringly.
He starts to object, but Rodimus slams his servo over his intake. “He’s totally okay with it! He volunteered, after all! And he’ll start with showing you to your habsuite with Drift, so you can take all the time you need to settle in!”
Your concerns are soothed. Taking up your suitcase, you follow Drift and leave the docking bay, with the other mech walking at a turtle’s pace in order to stay in tandem with you. Megatron rips Rodimus’s servo away from his intake. “You,” he hisses, “are the bane of my very existence.”
Rodimus shrugs. “I can live with that title. But seriously, I’m doing you a favor right now. Enough with the brooding miserableness and more with the reinventing yourself. I’m trying to help you feel more at ease here. If you start with the human, you may find yourself actually being gentle.”
He snarls, and for the first time in a long while wonders if he can get away with killing one last Autobot. But when he looks at you and sees the way you smile up at Drift with so much young excitement…something in him softens.
“So, I was told you know a lot about Cybertronian culture,” you say to him. Drift is long gone, and your habsuite is set up to house all of your accommodations. You sit back on the miniature berth covered with blankets and pillows, thin legs swinging idly while you regard him with a curious look. He glances at you fleetingly, then returns his gaze to the data pad he’s holding.
“That I do,” he answers.
“Mind telling me some stuff?”
Your question is blunt and to the point. There’s no hesitation. You don’t look the least bit afraid. For a moment, Megatron wonders if you even know who he is. You just seem so…clueless. Did your human superiors really give you no sort of debriefing on who you would be dealing with here before you left?
“What do you want to know?” he asks reluctantly.
“I want to know about turbo foxes,” you reply.
He stares at you. Then he bursts into raucous laughter that causes his entire frame to shake. You throw your hands up in feigned exasperation, grinning like an idiot. “What? What did I say?”
“You said nothing wrong, little one.” He manages to calm himself down, shaking his head while still chuckling. “I just…I was expecting you to ask about the war.”
“Why would I ask you about that?”
“Because that is what everyone wants to know about. The war is essentially a defining factor of our history and culture. Our image cannot exist without it.”
You shrug. “I can learn about the war from anyone. I already have. But turbo foxes? I’ve only read a single paragraph about those. They sound so cute! You have to tell me more.”
“Wait.” He pauses, confused. “You…you’ve learned about the war?”
“Of course I have,” you reply. “Like you said, it’s part of your history and culture. Who hasn’t at this point?”
“So…you know who I am. Megatron. Me. You’ve learned about me.”
“Yes?” You tilt your head. “I don’t know what this has to do about turbo foxes.”
“No, it-it has nothing to do with them. I just-” He sighs, rubbing his optics in a tired way. “I just don’t understand why you haven’t acknowledged the fact that you know me. You know what I’ve done. You know what I’m capable of continuing to do.”
“I haven’t acknowledged it because it’s not worth acknowledging.”
“That is absurd. Of course it is worth acknowledging. I am Megatron. I’m the former leader of one of the most feared armies known throughout the universe.”
“Former leader,” you say.
“That-” He sputters. He isn’t sure where you are going with this; you’ve thrown him for a loop. “That has nothing to do with the current situation.”
“Yes it does.” You stand up. “You used to be the leader of the Decepticons. You’ve killed, you’ve destroyed. But you don’t do that anymore. So now here we are.”
“You are okay with completely looking past everything I have done? You're just going to…ignore it?”
“No.” You take slow steps towards him. “I’m not. I’ve done my research on you. I understand that you’ve done terrible things. But I also know that you're trying to make up for all of that. You're good now. Being here, helping me…I know you're trying to be better. I appreciate that.” You hold up your hands. He understands, yet hesitates to fulfill your wish. You have to encourage him. “Come on, it’s okay. You won’t hurt me.”
He bends down and extends his servo. “How can you be so sure?”
You hold his index digit and bring the tip to your cheek, allowing him to caress the soft organic skin of your face. You are so small, so delicate, so carefully made. Megatron isn’t caught up on the stories about the gods of your world, yet he knows-he can feel it-that whatever being made you put so much care and love into their work, he is sure their power rivals Primus himself. His walls crumble. He wants to hold you forever.
“I’m sure because I trust you,” you say. “And when you earn the trust of someone you can so easily hurt…you know you are good.”
Six weeks later…
Swerve’s bar is filled with life. Megatron hears it all the way from the deserted hallway he sits in. The laughter, cheers, and songs echo like the hauntings of spirits. Yet, he feels no urge to join in. The bench he sits on is as cold as space. He’s sure he can feel the chilling void through the large observation window he’s in front of right now.
The soft pitter patter of human feet turns his attention away from the window. He sees you heading towards him with cheeks flushed red and a stupid smile. His olfactory sensors pick up on the faint scent of alcohol sticking to your skin when you make it over to him.
“Are you drunk?” he asks.
“A little,” you reply. A soft pat to his pede signals what you want. He gives it to you, scooping you up into a gentle hold and placing you on his right tibulen. You lean against him with a soft exhale. “Why didn’t you come join us?”
He lifts his gaze to the window. “I’m not a big drinker.”
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. Neither am I.”
The warmth of your little body is comforting. It makes him want to focus on you. Yet, he can’t manage to do so. It’s such a foolish situation; him, of all mechs, so infatuated with this little human, he can barely look at them.
But it goes beyond that. He knows it does. So do you. Six weeks are nearly over. Your time here will soon be done.
He doesn’t know how to handle that anymore.
“Why did you leave Swerve’s?” he chooses to ask you, because if he brings up the topic of you leaving, he thinks he’s going to lose control of his emotions.
“I wanted to be with you.”
He snorts. “I hardly think a party being thrown in your honor is worth leaving in exchange for spending time with some old bot.”
“Oh, please. You aren’t just some old bot to me. I like being around you. Is that so hard to believe?”
He smiles humorously. “You might be the only one on this ship who does.”
You don’t respond, and Megatron fears he might have offended you in some way. When he looks at you, he sees your shoulders slump and your head hang like you are mourning the dead.
“I’m leaving soon,” you murmur.
“...I know.”
“I asked my superior if I could stay.” You draw your knees to your chest and hug them. “I begged him. Another week. Hell, another day. But he wouldn’t give in. Fucking asshole…he knows I’ve gotten attached.”
“Getting attached was the point of you coming here.”
“I know. But…not like this.” An invisible chord tightens around your little body. He can tell your composure is crumbling. “This…wasn’t something I was trained for.”
His spark aches painfully. If he were younger, he’d do something rash; threatening your superior would have been his first course of action. If that didn’t work, he’d steal you away and whisk you off to the far reaches of space, away from Earth, away from anything or anyone who might prevent the two of you from being together.
But he’s not his younger self. He’s old. He’s tired. So he simply heaves a sigh and lifts his optics to the stars. “You know…so many times out there, I’ve watched a happy pair of lovers walking in the night.”
You lift your head and look at him. There are tears in your eyes. Megatron rumbles out a deep purr and reaches for you, gently maneuvering you into his servos and lifting you up to his faceplate. You lean forward and place a tiny hand on his nose.
“What were they like?” you ask quietly.
“They had a kind of glow to them,” he responds with a sense of wistfulness. “It almost looked like…Heaven’s light.”
That makes you giggle. “How the hell do you know what Heaven is?”
“Lets just say I’ve done my research,” he answers with a smile.
You lightly tap his nose with your fist. “Sap.” Your expression falls into a contemplative frown. “What were you thinking when you saw them? The lovers? Were you jealous?”
“Well…not exactly. Jealousy isn’t the right word to describe it. But…I envied them. I wanted to be like them. But I knew I’d never know that warm and loving glow, though I might wish with all my might.” He closes his optics, steadying his breaths. He doesn’t want to cry, not in front of you. “No face as hideous as my face…was ever meant for Heaven’s light.”
You open your mouth to retort, not at all willing to listen to him put himself down. That’s one of the things he loves about you. No matter who it is, you will always step in to make someone feel better. It’s a quality many Cybertronians are lacking, yet it abounds in humans plentifully.
He had been wrong about your kind, back when he was still the leader of the Decepticons. You are so much more beautiful than you realize.
Megatron cuts you off gently with a low puff of air into your face from his nose. You sputter and stumble back, and he laughs. His thumb comes up to stroke your hair, then travels down to trace the outline of your jaw. You still, eyes widening when you see the lovesick look he’s giving you. “But suddenly an angel has smiled at me…you, little one. Come on, smile.”
There’s no sharp-witted reply from you to make him chuckle. You just obey him and smile. His spark skips a beat and he feels like he is going to melt right then and there. “You are the only one to smile at me in this way,” he whispers. “And you…you’ve touched my face without a trace of fright.”
“I could never be afraid of you,” you say. You press yourself against his nose, hugging him in the best way you can. He feels you trembling. “I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve dreamt of you. I still dream. I dare to dream that you might even care for me…”
Megatron leans into your touch. “My cold dark tower seems so bright…I swear it must be Heaven’s light.”
There is silence between you for some time. The noise from Swerve’s bar has faded away. You sniffle and don’t pull away. “Stay with me,” you beg.
“You know I can’t,” he says. “Not forever.”
“Then just for tonight. For as long as we have left. Stay with me, please. I don’t want to let you go. I love you.”
“You don’t have to.” He hugs you with his free servo. “Not right now. I’m here. I love you too. You are the only one I will ever love. My Heaven’s light.”
“Salvation through understanding,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. Yet, you are smiling. It’s a grateful smile. A smile that tells him you are so, so lucky to have ever met him at all.
His optics well up. He lets the walls break. “Understanding brings in the light.”
Megatron knows he is a monster.
But after meeting you…he knows he’s a monster who’s worthy of receiving love.
#gator writes#idw megatron x reader#idw megatron#mtmte megatron#megatron#transformers idw#mtmte#lost light#transformers#transformers mtmte#transformers lost light#reader insert#transformers idw x reader#tf idw x reader#mtmte x reader#lost light x reader#transformers x human reader#transformers x reader#transformers g/t#maccadam
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Your First 'Argument' With Them
Notes:
This rather light hearted (save one pile) reading explores the cause and resolution of your first significant argument/fight/tiff with your person.
The energies for you and your person could be potentially switched. For a few piles it felt like the reaction could belong to swapped between the two of you.
This was one of those readings where a lot of info only sorted itself out as I did each section so you really have to stick with me on this one haha.
There's some brief language in pile 3 & 4.
This reading is for entertainment purposes only! ✨
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧
Pile 1
The Incident/Cause
Cards: Two of Swords, The World, Queen of Swords, The Chariot
Your first argument with your person is around a significant and potentially life changing decision that needs to be made. The decision can shape how you two move forward and close out a cycle but the conflict arises because you two have two opposing opinions or desires. There are a lot of different scenarios here however, so keep in mind the details will vary greatly from person to person. It could also be that one person is hesitant while the other is more self-assured. The other scenario I’m picking up on is maybe you (could be them) feel pressured by a time frame in what the decision needs to be made. Another situation that comes to me is being given an ultimatum. In general there’s an energy of stalling and needing to get moving. Sneaky ten of swords was hiding out in the deck! The vibes could be off and hurtful words exchanged. It could be a situation that makes or breaks the relationship.
The Resolution
Cards: Ace of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Wands reversed, Three of Cups, Three of Pentacles
This might get worse before it reaches a fiery climax and gets better. Quite honestly your person may become more intolerable and you might find yourself fighting to keep your cool. I don’t get a really intense fight though, just being majorly annoyed. You may both turn to your friends to get advice/help or a third party may help you both resolve the conflict.
In the end, you and your person will try to come up with a solution that works for both of you. They may or may not confess their feelings for you… it depends on your relationship.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
Pile 2
The Incident/Cause
Cards: Knight of Pentacles, The Lovers, Temperance, Knight of Swords, The Patient Witch, The Magician
The relationship is moving too slowly for someone. One person is comfortable with the pace and the other is like – “okay, um, what are we doing”. The relationship could be what each of you desires but one of you is more laid back and the other is a go-getter… very driven. I’m also getting a cancelled date and one person keeps saying “I want more”. Someone is spoiled by or wants to be spoiled with the other’s love and intention! The other person gives everything, just you know… slowly!
The Resolution
Cards: Ten of Wands, Page of Swords, Good Luck (Wheel of Fortune) Five of Wands, Ten of Cups
You two will eventually decide to stop making things so difficult for yourselves. You're only clashing because you can’t see you have to actively figure things out together. The resolution is that things will pick up the pace. It will require you both to turn within though as it seems like the resolution is internal work that in the end pushes you two forward.
For one of you, it’s about opening up and being vulnerable while for the other it’s about realising you’re allowed to receive. Kind of like the disconnect comes from lack of give and take (it’s there but imbalance). So once that is realised internally it can create a more secure and faster-moving flow.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
Pile 3
The Incident/Cause
Cards: The Sun, Ace of Wands, King of Pentacles, The Chariot, Seven of Pentacles
*If you were drawn to pile two I highly suggest checking that out!
I’ve been fighting for my life on this one Pile 3. I kept doing this pile looking for the source of the first (major) argument or even disagreement but the story wasn’t adding up to anything bad. You two may be a couple that works through disconnects (cause at the point that’s all I can call it) right away. The other piles had arguments with breaks but I get that vibe of you two always working to be on the same page or at least understand each other in the moment.
But I still need to give you something so I decided to focus on the causes of general conflicts between you two.
You two may have conflicts/disconnects over expectations of what your lives should look like and even that seems super mild. It’s like ‘maybe life should look like XYZ → but oh wait I’m actually happy with what I have’… you two may have to shed the stories you’ve been told and keep working on what you have together and individually because you’re happy.
You guys might also be slow to get together as a couple. It felt like a waiting game in one of the previous pulls. Like you’re both hurt from previous experiences but also sure about your feelings for each other but unsure they’re reciprocated. So it’s a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing. You may run the risk of being “the one that got away”.
How Are Conflicts Resolved
Cards: Ace of Cups, Five of Swords, Seven of Wands, Ten of Wands, Seven of Cups
Conflicts may be so rare and few that you guys would definitely take it to heart. But I’m getting “I choose you you this lifetime and the next”. You two make a conscious decision to be in it together forever. You resolve conflicts through curiosity and a desire to understand each other. It’s like ‘this is the love of my life’ and “I don’t care, we’re getting through this together”. You naturally seek to understand each other and hold one another accountable.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
Pile 4
‼️ Before you read: This pile has a theme of self confidence and possible anxiety/mental health issues.
The Incident/Cause
Cards: Queen of Wands reversed,m Ace of Wands, Good Luck Charm, Nine of Wands, Ten of Swords, Strength
This feels a bit messy (post-reading– but not really lol)… someone could have some self-confidence issues here. There’s also some energy of preferring to be alone rather than out with/around other people.
This fight was ‘bound’ to happen, but at the same time, it’s in your hands? It’s more of a self-fulfilling prophecy. It also has this vibe of being manageable to out of control and needing intervention. Someone, (likely you but this is one of those piles where the roles could be reversed), could have significant trauma or some anxiety/mental health issues going on.
Self-love is the issue and it causes a lot of worrying and isolation. It’s so hard to articulate this ‘softly’ which makes it even more challenging. Let's say Person A struggles but Person B can’t see why. In B’s eyes, A is the most gorgeous, passionate, fun, loving person ever. A and B may bicker a lot about the topic but I see this tension swelling and some hurtful things might be said. I think you two may also end up either taking space or separating for a little bit (like days more than weeks).
The Resolution
Cards: Page of Swords, Seven of Wands, Knight of Cups, Three of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Chariot
Your person is going to want to hear your story. You two could end up having a bit of a heart-to-heart. They’re going to work with you to help you get yourself back to a good place again (so supporting you being your own rescuer). They’ll be your accountability partner and cheerleader along the way, standing by your side as you learn to step into your power again. It might happen faster than you think it will, but it doesn’t mean you won’t falter. But when you do you’ll bounce back quicker.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading#pac reading#pick a picture#pick a pile reading#pac#tarot reading#free tarot#free tarot reading#future spouse#pick an image reading#pac tarot#cozycottagetarot#cozycottagetarot readings
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lord please save her for me
paige bueckers x fem oc
hello! welcome to my new fic, i hope u like it! please let me know what y’all think, i have each chapter planned out but i’m not sure when i’ll update again. probably soon lmao 💋👩❤️💋👩🪽🌟
chapter one:
leni knew the first time she saw paige again it would feel like a kick in the stomach but to say she felt winded was an understatement. the sight in front of her had her breath stuck in her throat, heart beating out of her chest and her head spinning, she had to rest on the wall to balance herself. it wasn’t out of character for paige to be here. it was frat party at the beginning of the semester. paige was almost guaranteed to be here. but leni would have betted her life that the blonde would’ve come with her friends not the red head, wearing barely any clothes that was latched onto her arm currently.
“you good babe?” leni’s girlfriend, riley asks from beside her. she reached out a hand to rest on lenis back but the curly haired girl shrugged her off, “im fine. just feeling hot. can you get me some water?” leni asks in hopes to have a moment alone with her thoughts to process what she just saw. paige with a girl that wasn’t her. her paige with a girl that looked nothing like her.
despite having a girlfriend herself, leni was far from a hypocrite. a year ago leni was bearing her heart, all but begging paige to turn thier friends with benefits deal into something more serious. they already spent evenings laid together in bed. weekends walking around target or studying together. off days lounging around each others apartments. they were only fucking each other too. what would a title change? apparently a lot to paige.
leni tried for days but paige could not be swayed, shaking her head and furrowing her brow each time leni brought up the idea of them being girlfriends.
“i just don’t do that kind of thing len.”
“what we have right now is good. why change it?”
“i’m focused on basketball, i don’t need distractions.”
leni reached her breaking point, telling paige it was either they make it official or they never see each other again. she couldn’t continue in ‘will they, won’t they’ cycle. leni had caught feelings for paige. feelings so deep she wanted to shout it from the rooftops and it felt like her entire world crashed down when paige said it was best if they didn’t see each other again.
leni cried for days on end. buried under her duvet, waiting and wishing for paige to call or text and say she was wrong. to say she cared for leni they way leni cared for her. but no call or text came and eventually leni had to pick herself up and dust herself off. life doesn’t end when a blue eyed girl breaks your heart.
paige saw leni as soon as she walked in. of course she did. paige would spot leni in a sea of a thousand people. her bouncy curls, longer than the last time paige saw them, her brown skin, still showing the remnants of summer, her dark brown eyes, deep as ever as they flitted around the room. paige also saw the blonde girl next to leni, the way her hand touched her back, the way her lips pressed to lenis temple. paige wanted to punch that girl right in the face.
“where are you going?” camilla, paiges girlfriend asks as paige begins to walk away from her, “just to find a toilet. i won’t be long.” paige lies and she hurries off before camilla can say anything in response. paige wasn’t going to find a toilet. paige was going to find leni and she knew exactly where she would be.
“let me guess. you needed some fresh air.” hearing paiges voice made lenis hairs stand on end. she hadn’t heard that raspy drawl in so long she had forgotten what it sounded like. “you never did like parties.” paige says standing next to leni on the front porch. leni refused to look at paige, staring straight ahead, she focused on a street lamp in the distance that flickered. “i still don’t.” she says and in her head, her voice was strong and brave but her lips betrayed her and her words came out shaky and low.
“why are you here then?” paige asks, ever the curious girl. “i came with my g- a fri-” leni couldn’t bring herself to say the word girlfriend to paige. it was stuck in her throat threatening to choke her. “your girlfriend. you can say it len. you came with your girlfriend.”
“yeah. i did. i came with my girlfriend. looks like you did too. never knew red heads were your thing.” leni all but spits at paige, finally building the courage to look at her. and when she does, the past twelve months of healing and moving on completely unravel and leni feels as though she about to faint.
paige looks the same but simultaneously so different. her hair is still blonde but it’s shorter and a lot brighter, like she’s just had highlights. her skin looks smoother, in fact she’s glowing. leni was sure she’d grown a few inches too, paige was always taller than her but not this much taller. and as bad as leni was trying not to look, it was clear paige had been in the gym. the crop top she wore exposed her toned stomach and muscular arms and leni’s heart rate quickened as memories of those very arms being wrapped around her not so long ago flashed in her mind.
“are blondes your thing or just girls that look like me?” paige retorts and leni scoffs, “get your head out of your ass paige. girls that don’t treat me like i’m nothing is my thing.” paige feels limp as leni says that, did she really make leni think she was nothing?
paige had a difficult time with relationships. she branded herself as ‘not a relationship girl’, blaming her focus on basketball as the reason but paige knew that was bullshit. paige wanted nothing more than to have a girl in the stands cheering for her, to come home after practice and her bedroom not be empty but growing up all paige knew was turbulent relationships and broken homes and she vowed to never hurt someone the way she watched her parents hurt each other. and the only way she knew how to do that was to avoid relationships altogether.
“you weren’t nothing to me, len.” paige defends herself but it feels pointless, lenis feelings were written on her face, she always found it hard to mask her emotions and nothing had changed.
“i’m sorry. what i did wasn’t fair. i was stupid, so fucking stupid. letting you go-” leni couldn’t hear this. not here, not now. not ever actually. leni had gone through hell and back trying to get over paige, just ask her friends who had hugged her while she sobbed, forced her eat when she refused, literally picked her up off the floor multiple nights in a row after she drank enough wine to make her forget paige ever existed.
“paige, stop. this conversation is futile and one year too late.” leni holds her hand up to stop paige from saying anymore. to stop her from saying the words she was begging to hear last year.
“i’ve changed len. i promise. i tried so hard, i worked so hard to change for you. i want to show you that.”
“have you lost your fucking mind? i have a girlfriend paige and so do you. i’m happy. someone loves me, cares for me and it’s not a secret. it’s not behind closed doors. i’m someone’s girlfriend and they’re proud of that. and it’s fucked up of you to say all this stuff now, all this time later. i wasn’t enough for you and that ripped my fucking heart to pieces!”
“you were enough. you are enough. i was just blind and scared.”
leni was fighting the tears that threatened to spill, she didn’t want to cry in front of paige, give her the satisfaction of knowing she still affected leni.
paige couldn’t bare to see leni cry, the way her eyes glossed over and nose turned red, the way her lip quivered made paiges heart pang with guilt because after all, she was the reason leni was crying. “please don’t cry. i meant what i said. i really am sorry. and i know it’s complicated but i couldn’t not tell you this. i couldn’t not at least try it would feel like i’m robbing us of a chance.”
leni has averted her gaze again, there was something about holding eye contact with paige that felt like two hands around her neck squeezing every last breath out of her. it was suffocating and all consuming. when she was around paige, leni didn’t feel like she was in the same realm as everyone else, she felt transported to somewhere far away but she had to bring herself back down to earth before she did or said something she regretted.
“a year ago you looked me in my eyes and said it would be for the best if we never saw each other again and you were right paige. i shouldn’t have come to this stupid party and you shouldn’t have followed me out here. from now on, we go back to how it was before. you don’t know me. i don’t know you.”
“but i do know you len and you know me. so well.” paige does what she’s been dying to do since stepping outside with leni and she reaches out and touches her cheek. wiping a stray tear but her hand lingers and lenis eyes flutter closed at the feeling of paige. a feeling she’s craved for so long now, a feeling she’s dreamt about experiencing again.
paige has always felt a magnetic pull towards leni. the first time she met her, she was intrigued. she wanted to know more about the dark, curly haired girl. they sat for hours the first time they spoke then they ended up in paiges bed and paige got her wish of knowing more about leni. she knew leni so well it was as if she’d studied her. she knew what made her tick, how push her buttons, how to make her feel good. paige could read leni like a book, answering her questions before leni even asked them. that’s not what scared paige though. she knew she could control her feelings. what scared paige was the fact leni knew her in the same way. if paige bueckers was a book, leni had every word committed to memory.
leni placed her hand over paiges, still cupping her face, “paige, i can’t-” she begins to speak but paige cuts her off. “tell me you love her more than me. tell me what you have feels realer than what we had. tell me that and i’ll leave you alone.”
leni couldn’t say that. she couldn’t say any of it because it wasn’t true. she’s never loved anyone the way she loves paige and she doubts she ever will. but leni needed to protect herself. paige hurt her and leni couldn’t cope with that again and she had no reason to believe paige when she said she’d changed.
“don’t do that.” leni says looking at paige, her eyes as blue as ever, round and soft, pulling leni in. “don’t make this my decision. you walked away from me.”
“and it was the biggest mistake of my life.” paige says, eyes flicking down to lenis lips. she wanted to kiss her so bad. push her up against the wall, press her body into hers, one hand on her hip, the other in her hair. she wanted their lips to be on each other’s, she wanted to taste lenis cherry lip balm, tongues moving in sync as they meshed into one being.
“a mistake you’ll have to live with. i care about myself too much to risk being destroyed by the whirlwind that comes along with you paige.” lenis voice breaks as she turns away from paige as much as she believed paige was the reason they never worked out, she couldn’t help but feel like she walking away from what she’s always wanted.
“leni please-” paiges voice also faltered as she tried to pull leni back but the girl was strong and determined, “goodbye, paige.”
leni had no time to ruminate over the conversation and just about managed to wipe her tear stained cheeks before riley appeared in front of her.
“there you are! i got your water. who were you talking to out there?”
“no one. no one at all. let’s go dance.” leni says, plastering the fakest of smiles on her face. she didn’t worry that riley would notice because riley rarely noticed anything.
leni spent the rest of the night knocking back drinks and willing herself to stop glancing at paige but it was near impossible. the six foot, one hundred and sixty pound girl was alluring to say the least and with her also staring back, leni was beginning to lose composure.
“kiss me.” leni asserts, grabbing on to rileys shirt collar, pulling her down. riley looks confused but she would never deny kissing her beautiful girlfriend so she presses their lips together, leni deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping into rileys mouth but it’s not right. it doesn’t feel right. it’s not paige. and that makes leni feel sick. she’ll never kiss paige again and she’ll search for her in every girl but it’ll be pointless because no one could compare. no one could even come close.
now breathless from a phoney, drunken make out session that left nothing but the sour taste of beer in her mouth, leni pulls away from riley but her eyes immediately go to where paige was stood just minutes ago. but the athlete is gone. the only sign of her once being there was her girlfriend, now left holding two drinks. “i’m going to the bathroom.” leni mumbles and she slips away from riley, leaving her too, with a drink in each hand.
the multiple drinks leni had consumed in quick succession were catching up to her and her body swayed as she walked around the frat house looking for paige. she swung open random doors, bursting in on one too many explicit activities that she wish she never saw. “sorry, my bad.” she muttered quickly closing another door. she continued her search and by the time she reached the end of the hall, with no sign of paige, she actually needed to pee.
the bathroom was occupied but leni couldn’t wait, she knocked on the door over and over, “if you’re in there fucking, get out! i’m about to piss my pants!” she shouted over the music and she heard the lock click before the door slowly opened, “you never were very patient.” paige emerged from the bathroom and leni felt like this was fate. “i was looking for you.” she slurred, glancing up at paige. “you were?” leni nods, her eyes are glassy from intoxication, “i hate you for hurting me.” leni mutters but her actions do not resemble hate, they are needy and frantic as she pushes paige backwards into the bathroom, knocking the door closed with her foot.
“you hate me?” paige asks, hearing those words hurt but feeling lenis touch on her chest as she shoved her against the wall overrode any of that. “uh huh.” leni nods again, her hand now travelling down paiges chest and gripping her waist. “how much do you hate me?” paige tucks a piece of lenis hair behind her ear and leni leans into the touch, “so fucking much.” lenis breathing is ragged now as she pushes herself against paige, the craving she had for this woman was carnal and she doesn’t know how she managed to stay away from her for an entire year.
“you know im sorry. im different now len. hurting you is my biggest regret.” paige caresses lenis cheek, rubbing her thumb in small circles, she missed the feeling of her soft skin under her fingertips, “and this might just be mine.” leni says as she stands on her tiptoes to reach paige, crashing their lips together for the first time in over three hundred and sixty five days.
the kiss is sloppy and heated and influenced by the copious amounts of alcohol both girls had in their systems. paiges hands found lenis waist and she moaned into her mouth as her fingers explored every dip and curve on her body. leni felt like she was drowning and paige was air, she needed as much as she could get, nipping at paiges bottom lip before slipping her tongue into her mouth, saliva mixing to create the concoction that both girls missed so much.
“leni, are you in there?” there was a knock at the door and the voice of riley made leni jump away from paige, “it’s riley.” she whispered, eyes wide, “just be quiet.” paige whispered back. “leni?” rileys voice called out again and leni was violently brought back down to earth.
what the hell was she doing? in a frat house bathroom with her ex friend with benefits, kissing her when she had a girlfriend. when they both had girlfriends. this wasn’t leni. it wasn’t who she was and she wouldn’t hurt someone. she wouldn’t allow herself to.
“no. this was a mistake. we’re drunk.” leni fixed her appearance in the mirror, smoothing down her tossled curls that paige had messed up, wiping the smudged lip liner from her cupids bow and re-adjusting her shirt that had been pulled down exposing the lace of her bra.
paige watched her silently, blue eyes several shades darker as they glared into the mirror at lenis reflection. leni caught her gaze and for a split second she considered listening to paige and staying silent but riley called out her name again, “im coming!” leni responded and without so much as a glance at paige she unlocked the bathroom door and closed it tight behind her. leaving paige alone and confused, wondering what the fuck just happened.
thank you for reading baddies!! let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for future updates. ILY 💋💋
tag list: @heart4caitlin @jadasogay @avvwritesstufff @bueckersp
story info
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#wcbb#wlw#lovegalor333#lgbtq#fanfic#paige bueckers fanfiction#sophs works 🪽#lord please save her for me#lpshfm
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Safe Haven ❀
Relationship: Child!Dean & Child!Sam & Foster parent!Reader
Summary: Reader is a foster parent takes in Dean and Sam Winchester, two young brothers with a difficult past, determined to provide them with a safe and loving home.
Word Count: 3,020
a/n: I don’t really know how fostering works 100% so feel free to correct me 😓.
The first time you ever heard of the Winchesters was when Sandra -your CASA- gave you a call around 6 pm informing you she has a file for you about 2 boys.
Dean and Sam Winchester. 3 and 7 years old. Both are currently at the Children’s Home Society of North Carolina. You are familiar with the Home since you usually volunteer on weekends. Sandra spoke in a rush, which was absolutely not like her, explaining the need of a foster home in short notice. Even in extreme cases you were usually given a 2 weeks notice to get ready for a child you would shelter.
So when Sandra said she would be there with them tomorrow you knew it was a serious case.
You have been a foster parent for 9 years. And one thing you learned was that with this job came a lot of unpredictable things. When you first became a foster parent, it was at the age of 22, fresh out of college as an RN. It was from there you decided on becoming a school nurse. It was the only nursing occupation that lined up with your responsibilities as a foster mom. A job where you work the same place your child learns and you can be a nurse? Yes please!
Another reason is the benefits that would come from working in the same school for almost a decade. The staff are well known and your boss understands when you need a week or two off to adjust to another little person in your home. Last time you called off was 7 months ago for a young boy named Jack. So that should be enough time to ask for another break.
You immediately call Wesson, your boss. He was a sweet person. Though the opposite is commonly thought when people first meet him. His expensive suits and watches make him look serious. And Wess is anything but. He loves his little lego collection he has growing in his bottom shelf. The phone only rings twice before his cheery voice floats through the speaker.
“Good evening, ________.” He greets politely
“Good evening, Mr. Wesson- I mean Wess.” After the day you helped his daughter through her first cycle in school she gave her father quite the adulation of the scene because the next day you got a personal thanks and permission to call Mr. Wesson, Wess. “I would like to request 2 weeks off?”
“Of course! I'll schedule it for next month then?” There was a bit of shuffling on his end. Wesson knew your responsibilities as a foster parent and when you usually ask for a break.
“Actually, I know it's short notice but I need it for this week and the next?” You grimace a little as you force the words out
“Not a problem ________, but I will say this is new. Why so suddenly?” He spoke more softly now and i knew he was asking not as my boss but a friend.
“Yeah it’s apparently a very serious case. I didn't even get all the information before she hung up.” I sighed heavily though the receiver
“How about this then, take another week. We have the manpower to handle a couple nosebleeds.” He proceeds to laugh at his own joke a little too long.
“Thank you Wess. I need to get the rooms ready now, tell Annabeth I said good night.”
“Of course. you take care of yourself.” Wess said (demanded) before he hung up
You start up the stairs immediately. Being a foster parent means having rooms open and available. 7 and 3. You have Jack's room still made and can be for Dean. In Sam’s case, you have a room for toddlers but you haven’t had to care for one in 2 years. You walk into the room across and survey it. It has a bed with adjustable rails but the room looks bland. Maybe you should have insisted on a time frame.
You place some toddler necessities ,like pull ups, wipes, powder, and such, from the basement onto the dresser. Then taking some toys in the chest of Jack’s old room and placing them in a little basket for Sam's room. By the time you finish preparing the rooms you feel the exhaustion of the day weight on your body. You watch both the boys' rooms again before you lay boneless on the couch.
You lose yourself in thought. You have done this routine many times before, but something about this felt.. heavier. Different. While you have been doing this for a very very long time, even someone experienced like you had periods of anxiety for the child. In this case, you chalk it up to the lack of information, and even though you don't believe yourself right now, all you can do is hope that you are enough to help these two boys. Tomorrow, you have a lot of shopping to do. With or without the boys accompanying you. New clothes, books, toys. You are going to go all out like you usually do.
You fall asleep on the couch with these thoughts hovering over you. Underall the worries and excitement is hope. Hope that maybe this time you can keep them.
You woke up slowly to the sound of your phone ringing. For a moment you let it ring, burying your face in the pillows of the couch. That lasted all of 3 seconds before you remembered who is coming today. And to say you shot out of the couch was an understatement. You snatched your phone and fumbled around for the answer button.
“Good— AHEM. Good morning.” You greet, clearing the sleep out your throat.
“__________, Hi, I'm so sorry about the lack of communication.” It was Sandra. “I will come around 2 pm to discuss the placement.” There is serious exhaustion laced in her voice.
“Sandra, are you okay?” You whispered. Another blaring red flag is Sandra being anything but her normal cheerful and bubbly self, and with this job you have to be. You can count on one hand Sandra has been this way, tired and worn out, for the 9 years you’ve known her.
“I’m fine,” Sandra assured, but her voice wavered. “Just… It's been a long few days. I’ll explain more when I see you.”
You hesitated, feeling the weight in her tone. “Okay, Sandra. I’ll see you at two. Please get some rest if you can.”
“Thanks, ________. You’re a lifesaver, as always.”
The call ended with a soft click, leaving you standing in the quiet of your living room, phone still in hand. The knot of unease in your stomach tightened.
Two boys. Dean and Sam Winchester. Something about their situation clearly had Sandra running on fumes. You’ve seen tough cases before, but this one felt different, heavier, as if their names carried a weight you didn’t yet understand.
Shaking off the worry, you glanced at the clock. It was just past 8 a.m, That meant you had six hours before Sandra arrived, with a to-do list so long it made you inwardly groan.
It was then your stomach decided to remind you that you haven’t eaten since last night. You quickly made some pancakes and scarfed it down. After the meal you left immediately, there wasn’t time to do any dishes when you have a room to decorate. The usual routine kicked in. Grab essentials, plan for every possible need, and the small touches that might help the boys feel more at home.
By 10:30 a.m., your cart was full. You’d picked up toddler-friendly snacks, clothes in sizes that should fit a three-year-old and a seven-year-old, a set of books you hoped Dean would enjoy, and a stuffed moose for Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
When you got back home, you unpacked the haul and happily put the finishing touches on their rooms. You arranged the moose on Sam’s bed, tucked a book about astronauts onto Dean’s pillow, and stood back to assess the rooms.
“Okay,” you murmured to yourself. “God. I am good.” You smile
It was just after 1 p.m when you finally were able to sit down. You tried to sip a glass of water to steady the bundle of nerves building in your stomach. It really wasn’t working. The thought of meeting the boys, seeing their faces, and learning their story made your heart skip a couple beats.
Would they trust you? Would you be able to give them the stable home they need? What if they grow to hate it here?
Doubts started to plague your mind. So by the time 2 p.m rolled around, you were pacing the living room and looking out the window every few minutes. When you heard Sandra’s car turn into your driveway, your stomach started to do flips.Sandra’s car was a shiny black Camaro. The car you have come to memorize when you got a new addition to your family. The car’s door opened and Sandra walked out,looking more tired than you’ve ever seen her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and the dark circles under her eyes told you she hadn’t slept much, if at all since the first call.
And then you saw them.
Dean was the first to climb out of the car, his movements careful but confident. He was small for a seven-year-old, his dirty blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he had been running his hands through it. His green eyes surveyed the driveway, the house, and finally, you, with wariness that made your heart hurt.
Sam followed, gripping a worn-out blanket in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He was tiny, with dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. It was longer than Deans, he had dark bangs that framed his small face perfectly. His cheeks were tear-streaked— he must’ve been crying, he clung to Dean’s side like a lifeline.
“Hi there,” you said gently, stepping onto the porch as carefully as you could manage. You didn’t want to scare them.
Dean didn’t respond, but his gaze sharpened, studying you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat. Sam buried his face against Dean’s shoulder, his little body trembling.
Sandra gave you a tired smile. “_________,” she began, “these are the Winchester boys.”
You crouched down, keeping your voice soft and warm. “Hi, Dean. Hi, Sam. My name’s _________. It’s nice to meet you.”
Dean didn’t say anything, but his gaze hardened. Sam peeked out from where he shuffled behind Dean, his big brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Sandra knelt down, her voice low and soothing. “Sammy, it’s okay. Remember what I told you? ________ is really nice. You’re going to be safe here.”
Dean’s head snapped toward Sandra at the word safe, his expression unreadable.
“It’s okay,” you said, addressing both boys. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know you are very welcomed here, and I’m here to support you guys however I can.”
Sam clutched Dean’s side tighter, but Dean stepped forward, just a little. His green eyes locked onto yours, searching.
“Are you gonna keep us together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The question hit you like a punch to the gut. What have these two boys gone through for him to have to ask that?“Yes, Dean. I promise. You’ll stay together.” For extra measure “I made sure your rooms are right across from each other.” I reassured the child
Dean’s shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, and for the first time, you saw a flash of hope in his eyes.
Sandra stood, her eyes glassy. “Let’s get inside. We have a lot to talk about.”
You nodded, holding the door open as they walked in slowly. Taking in the whole scene.
The moment they were inside, you felt the shift. Dean's eyes scanned the big living room, taking in every detail as though he needed to memorize the space. He studied the plants in the corner, the small basket with cars in the play area, and paid special attention to the exits. The windows and the front and back door. All while Sam clung to Dean’s side, the blanket he had in his hand dragging on the floor. You shut the door behind them trying to make everything feel as calm and welcoming as possible at the moment.
"Want a snack?" you asked softly, crouching at the knees to be level with them. "I have some juice boxes and animal crackers in the kitchen."
Sam looked up at Dean for some brotherly reassurance. Dean looked at Sandra, who nodded reassuringly. Then he turned to you and gave you a small, timid nod.
"Terrific," you said, still as light. "Come on. Get you two settled." Your heart swells with affection when they both follow you to the kitchen immediately.
You led them into the kitchen, where you'd already set out some snacks on the table. Sam climbed into one of the chairs, blanket still firmly in hand, while Dean hovered near him protectively.
You frowned a little in thought. You wanted Dean to sit too but it didn't look like he was leaving Sam’s side anytime soon. You take another chair and slide it right next to Sam. The boys look at you with a face of confusion. Even Sandra quirked a thin eyebrow in your direction. You look at Dean and smile as you pat the seat. He stares at first. Hesitant to move from Sam’s side. But after a couple seconds, he sat in the chair. His eyes flick to you once, no longer hardened or glaring. You took it as a thank you and felt yourself beem.
Sandra sat across from them, her exhaustion more visible now that she wasn't standing. "Thank you for this," she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for you to hear.
You nodded, offering her a small smile. “It’s what I’m here for. We’ll make it work.”
Sandra exhaled deeply, and for a moment, she looked like she might have started to cry. That made you straighten up a little more. But then she squared her shoulders and gave her full attention to the two boys sitting in the chairs. “Okay let’s talk about what’s happening.”
Dean stiffened, his small hands curling into fists on the table. Sam leaned closer to him, as if seeking protection.
Sandra kept her voice soft. "You're going to stay here with ________ for a little while. She's going to take care of you, and you'll have your own rooms, toys, everything you need. You're safe here."
Dean's jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. "What about Dad?"
Sandra froze, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. You stepped in, sensing her hesitation.
Right now, your dad can't be with you," I said softly. "But Sandra and I are here to make sure you're okay. That's what matters most."
Dean's green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and fear. "He'll come back for us. He always does.” he said confidently.
You exchanged a look with Sandra, her face masked in grief she carefully kept contained. "Of course," you whispered. "Until then, you'll be here together and I'll make it as close to your home as I can."
Dean said nothing, though the slope of his shoulders gave the feeling he would yield to it all—for the time being, at least.
Sandra cleared her throat and stood. "I'll let you all get settled. There's a lot in their file to go over, but we will take it one step at a time. I'll check in on you both tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay," you said, walking her to the door. "Drive safe, Sandra. And get some rest."
She nodded, her eyes lingering on the boys for a moment before she left.
As you walked back into the kitchen, Sam was nibbling at a cracker, his blanket tucked under his chin. Dean hadn't even snatched a snack, and watched you warily.
"How about a little tour?" you offered, trying to lighten things up. "I can show you your rooms."
Sam lifted a little, but Dean narrowed his eyes. "We'll share a room."
You hesitated. "You can if you want, but you each have your own room right now. They're right next to each other."
Dean looked at Sam, who nodded solemnly, as though the two of them had a whole conversation in that one glance. "We'll share," Dean repeated firmly.
"Okay," you said, adjusting easily. "Let's go check them out. You can decide how you want to set things up.
You led them upstairs, showing them the rooms. Sam's room was filled with soft blues and greens, the stuffed moose proudly sitting on his bed. His drawer was a dark brown and matched the small basket with toys. Dean's room was a little more grown-up with space-themed bedding, books carefully aligned on the nightstand. An astronaut book laid in the middle of his small bed.
Dean walked into Sam's room first, eyeing everything in it before giving a slight nod. "This one," he said, his tone bringing no argument.
Sam beamed, running to the bed and grabbing the stuffed moose. "Look, Dean!" Sam was absolutely enamored by the small brown moose. He shoved it in Dean’s face as he excitedly babbled to him in a string on nonsensical words.
Dean didn't say anything, didn’t even push him away, but his mouth curled up ever so slightly at the corners.
"Alright," you said, fighting a smile. "We'll get an extra mattress in here so you can both stay together. How's that?"
Dean nodded once, and Sam scrambled onto the bed, clutching his new toy tightly.
Standing there in the doorway and watching them, a resolution washed over you. It would be some time, patience, and much love, but you were going to see to it that these boys did get the safe and stable home they deserved. No matter what.
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