#i would've died for you but you would've just watched me and felt /nothing/

[zombiigrll]

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IMMUNE? ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x immune!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.1K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort?, use of y/n, blood, zombie apocalypse stuff ofc, post-terminus era, references/slight spoilers to twd 5x2 ?? petname (angel - which also did we all collectively agree that carl would call his s/o angel? i see everyone use it i have before too its so cute .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you get bit, but nothing happens. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hey guys... its been a minute... (45 days COUGH COUGH) i am so sorry i have been SO BUSY and i didnt even realize i had this fic almost completely finished in my drafts so i decided why not finally finish it!! (which is also why the ending might be a bit weak because i also have no written anything for 45 days LMAO) my favorite thing about the whole science behind zombisim is all the theories of if you could or couldn't become immune so i wanted to write a little fic because i love... zombie science.. nerd alert!!! ☝️🤓 <- me but also whats a carl grimes/zombie fanfic writer without writing at least one immunity fic!! hope u guys enjoy!!

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everyone knew you were clumsy. you'd always have to be with someone, no matter what. that's how much people worried about you.

there had been plenty of times where you had been close to getting bit, and if you were alone, you would've been bit.

but now, you and your group were back on the road after the prison had fell. you all met up at a terrible place called terminus, and almost died if carol wouldn't have shown up. it was dangerous, and terrifying. but you had carl on your side, as always. he was the person who had saved you so many times. he was like your personal bodyguard.

you guys had eventually ended up at a church with a priest named gabriel. you felt uneasy being there. gabriel seemed, well, unstable. rick saw it too, telling carl to keep his guard up.

but after a while, everyone was inside the church, laughing and having fun.

you spot bob walking outside, which catches your attention instantly. no one else really seemed to notice, so you turned over to carl.

"i'm gonna go outside."

"do you want me to go with?" he asks, immediately sitting up.

"no, it's fine. i think i saw bob go out there. i wanna go check on him." you smile at him, standing up and walking over to where you saw bob go.

but when you stepped out, he was nowhere to be found.

"bob?" you called out, walking forward a bit more as you looked around for him. "where'd you go?"

you walked a bit further, leaning your arm on a tree as you looked past further into the distance, searching for any sight of bob.

but, to your luck, you were snuck up on. you heard a growl to your side, where your arm was leaning, and then a pain shot through your forearm.

you let out a loud shriek as you fumbled for your knife, stabbing the walker who was still attached to your arm in the head. you kicked him off, breathing heavily.

you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest.

you glanced down at the walker who was now laying dead on the ground, gripping tightly on your knife as you processed what had just happened. you lifted up your pained, bleeding arm.

"no... no, oh, my god." you dropped your knife and began wiping away the blood that was profusely leaking out of your fresh bite wound. "shit..."

you stared at your arm for a moment, attempting to catch your breath while watching your own blood drip onto the floor beneath you.

the doors to the church busted open, snapping you out of your daze. carl, rick, and michonne stood at the door, staring at you.

carl stepped a bit closer. "what happened? are you okay-" he stopped as he spotted your arm. his face fell flat and his eyes widened.

"it snuck up on me.." you quietly and breathlessly responded, tears falling from your agonized face. "i was looking for bob."

rick runs up to you as he realizes you had been bit. he grabs your arm, his face a bit panicked as he starts speaking. "we have to cut it off."

"no!" you tugged your arm away from his grip, holding your arm from him. "we don't have the stuff for that!"

"stop yelling." rick sternly ordered, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. "let's go inside. i'm sure gabriel has the stuff for it."

you anxiously nodded, stepping toward the church with carl by your side.

"i'll get gabriel." michonne said, walking towards his office. "find somewhere for her to sit."

you take a seat in one of the rows, still holding your arm tightly.

"what the hell happened?" glenn asks, quickly walking over to the three of you with maggie by his side.

"she got bit." rick runs a hand through his hair. you look to your side and spot carl, just staring blankly, his expression the same as when he first saw your bite just moments before. he was speechless, and afraid.

you held your arm tighter as the pain increased, blood seeping through in between your fingers as you clenched your jaw. your breathing was progressively getting more and more ragged and uneven the more you panicked.

"i don't want you to cut my arm off.." you protested, your voice high pitched and wobbly. you closed your eyes tightly, a few tears falling from your eyes.

"we have to." rick shook his head. "otherwise you'll become one of them."

"i don't care." you sobbed, gripping tighter and tighter onto your arm. "i can't do it. i probably wouldn't survive either way, we don't have proper stuff for it." you could tell it was difficult for them to understand what you were saying through your sobs. "i just want to wait it out."

rick eyes widen, along with everyone else who were crowded around you.

carl finally steps closer, grabbing your other hand tightly. you could spot tears falling from his eyes. "please, y/n. i'll be with you, it'll be okay. please i.. i can't lose you."

you looked up at him through your lashes, pressing your lips together. "i can't, carl. i can't."

...

they had moved you to one of the rooms in the church that had something you could lay on. they tied your wrist to a pole and stood in the room with you.

you could barely keep track of what was happening. you genuinely felt fine, besides the side effects from losing blood.

"can you wrap my arm up..?" you requested. the tickling feeling of your blood dripping down your arm becoming too much, and you also wanted to test if that was what was making you feel sick.

being immune wasn't even a thought in your head yet. but you were just creeped out about not having any of the same side effects that anybody else had when they'd gotten bit. you were sweating, but you weren't feverish, that's just how the weather always was.

"yes, of course." glenn grabbed a thing of gauze out of his bag, going up to you and carefully but tightly wrapping it around the bite. he also grabbed a nearby rag to wipe the access blood that had been dripping off of your arm.

"...thanks." you sighed, looking away from everyone.

they were all just staring, waiting for something to happen. but nothing was. the awkward silence and suspense was killing you. you saw the sun starting to come up through the window, which means it had been quite a few hours since you had gotten bit.

you've seen people last a day, maybe the tiniest bit over a day, but you noticed that they always had obvious symptoms by now. and you still didn't.

you blew a raspberry, looking around the room. ".. i don't feel anything."

"what?" carl squinted in confusion, his voice still a bit brittle from crying. "like, you're numb?"

"no, like.. i don't feel any symptoms of turning." you laughed at how idiotic your sentence probably sounded to everyone.

"so, you're saying you're immune?" carls voice changed from being upset to just pure confusion.

"i don't know." you shrugged, tapping your foot on the hardwood floors. "i seriously don't know what's going on. the only time i felt sick was when it first happened and i saw my blood dripping. i feel fine right now, a little lightheaded, but i think thats from the bloodloss."

"look, theres no such thing as being 'immune.'" rick shook his head at your statement. "it might just be.. taking a while to settle in."

"dad, can you have a little faith?" carl turned to rick, glaring slightly at him before turning back at you. "i believe you."

everyone else seemed really skeptical about what was happening, exchanging confused looks with one another.

"we'll keep her in here for a little while, alright? if she still doesn't feel anything by tonight, then we'll untie her." rick sighed, looking down at you. you had been with everyone since the start, being there when carl reunited with rick and everything, so you could sense everyones panic when they first saw you get bit. and now, you could sense their pure confusion. people in our group have gotten bit before, but they'd show signs almost immediately.

"i can stay with her if you guys want to leave." carl said, sitting down right next to you. "i'll let you know if anything happens."

everyone agreed and left the room.

you laughed to yourself, looking over at the door.

"are you okay?" carl asks, looking at you anxiously.

"i'm fine." you turned your head over to look at him. "this is just so fucking weird. and we don't even know where bob went. i'm so confused right now. nothing is making sense." you let out another light laugh, shaking your head in honestly disbelief.

"maybe you're the chosen one." carl laughs, smiling at you. "i really hope you're being honest. i.. i don't think i can handle losing you."

you look at him with a lopsided smile, happy to hear how much he cared. "i wouldn't lie to you about this. i genuinely don't feel sick at all. i mean, i feel gross, but not in a 'i'm dying' way. more in a 'i just got my arm bitten into' way." you tried to make light of the situation, despite being terrified. carls expression stayed a bit worried. "..sorry, not funny. i don't want to lose you either carl. you're the best thing to ever happen to me, you know?"

his concern turned into a smile at your words. he leaned forward and hugged you tightly. all you could do was put your hand on his back, due to your other hand being tied up still.

"i love you." he mumbles into your shoulder.

you laugh, leaning your head on top of his. "i love you too."

...

a while passed, yet you still felt perfectly fine. your arm felt odd though, of course. you had been bitten into after all.

carl stayed by your side, telling you stories and just conversing with you to keep your mind and his off of the whole situation while everyone was out searching for bob.

you moved your arm up to your tied up one, itching at your tight bandages. “i want these off…” you dramatically complained.

“we should probably check on your arm anyways. even if you feel fine, there could still be something messed up with your arm.” carl says as he rotates his body towards your arm, carefully untying your arm looking at you for permission.

you nod, and he proceeds to take the bandage off. the teeth marks had dark bruises and dried blood around them, and your veins were darker and more apparent around the bite. it looked unreal.

you quickly looked away from the wound, shuddering. “holy shit.” you closed your eyes tightly.

you could hear carl stumble over his words as he tried to figure out what to say. “i… it… is it supposed to- um.. look like that?” he let out a nervous laugh, moving his hand to comfort yours.

you returned the nervous laugh, looking back at the bite momentarily. "i don't- i don't think so?"

your body was violently shaking, unsure what to do or what was going on. would you still need to cut your arm off? or would it still be fine, despite looking like that? you knew that you'd have to hide your arm for.. well, ever, if you decided not to cut your arm off. it could cause so many different issues if people outside of your group found out.

carl proceeded to grab anything he could find to clean your wound, as well as new bandages. you two sat in silence as he carefully cleaned your arm, the only sound being your light winces of pain as he applied the antibacterial ointment he luckily found.

he wrapped your arm back up and planted a quick, soft kiss onto your bandaged wound, looking back up at your flustered face with a smile afterward.

your face was hot, and you quickly averted your eyes away from his out of embarrassment.

he put his hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead, then pulled you into a hug right after. "i'm so glad you're okay."

you were shocked, but let out a flustered giggle before returning the hug. "thank you.." your smile kept growing and growing. then, the words "i love you." finally left your mouth.

he broke the hug and looked at you shocked, but then his big smile came back. "i love you, too, angel."

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[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[allfearstofallto]

"Tell Me You Love Me,"

Yandere! Male x Fem! Reader

FT: Childe and Scaramouche

TW: yandere, forced married au, violence, mentions of punishments (rice kneeling and starvation)

Childe

With your eyebrows knitted together and furrowed, lips pressed together in a tight smile and cheeks just ever so slightly puffed out, this is when Childe found you the cutest. Your smile was nice and he had an extra special place in his heart for the way you looked as you sobbed, but nothing could ever top your pout. It was to the point where he'd do things to entice it out of you, intentionally teasing you to see you puff up in that oh so adorable anger.

His cold, thin finger reached out and gently poked the soft cushion of your cheek, sinking into the plumpness of your face. Even when you slapped his hand away, he couldn't help, but to swoon at how cute you were. You couldn't harm him, not with those weak little punches, but you sure could try. And he absolutely loved watching you try. You seldom touched him of your own accord, so what was the harm in enticing you to do so? 

“I'm not in the mood to deal with you, Ajax,” You muttered, voice barely above a whisper. You spat his name like it was filthy, even crossing your arms afterwards as if to show you were deathly serious. He knew that you were, you had every right to be, yet he still sat next to you, so close his thigh pressed against yours. 

He placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest in an unwanted embrace. It was a move that earned him a slap across the face from you. A painful one at that. Not unbearable of course, more akin to a cat scratch. Yes the cat hurt you, but who could stay mad at such a cute animal?  You on the other hand, he could see you holding your tingling palm, trying to hide the pain you were feeling. You were able to hit him because he let you, but an untrained fighter such as yourself was no match for a harbinger.

“Now look what you've done,” he could feel his cheek growing a bit hot from the strike, “You've gone and hurt the both of us.”

You shot him a glare, a very harsh one. If looks could kill he would've died on the spot. But he was immune to your gaze. More than immune to it actually, he reveled in the fact that you looked at him that way. That your pretty face could make such an awful expression. That the hatred you felt for him, causes your features to contort into something almost ugly, but beautiful to him.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such a liar!” You raised your trembling voice, eyes welling with tears. Watching you go from anger to falling apart at the seams. He was the only person who could make you feel this way and it made him feel a sense of pride.

“What'd I lie about?” He teased. He looked up with a finger pressed against his chin, playfully beginning to ponder. If your hand wasn't already aching from the slap, you would've punched him, right in his smug little face.

“You said I could go,” you words were strained through tears that wouldn't stop cascading down your face, “I did everything you told me to. You promised!”

He snapped his fingers in recognition, “Oh! That's it! You wished to go to the lantern rite!”

The sight of him pretending was making you even more angry. But you couldn't let it boil over any more. Childe would only allow so much before he started to get upset, finally showing you how gentle he was being with you before. Few people even got the chance to place hands on him and live.

“You said I could go,” you repeated again slowly. 

And he did. You slaved away, doting on him like the perfect wife. Doing everything he wanted. You were at his beck and call, acting on his every whim. Just for the chance to touch the soil of Liyue again, to smell the air, to taste the food…to see your family. They went to the lantern rite every year, and you hoped that that tradition didn't end just because you'd vanished. All you needed was a glimpse of their faces, no talking necessary. Even though you knew they'd want to see you, the selfish part of you was okay with them thinking you were dead or gone for good. That way they wouldn't risk butting heads with the Fatui, or worse, actually managing to meet with Childe.

“I was hoping you'd forgotten about that,” Childe spoke, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

You merely scoffed. You wouldn't be that nice to him without incentive. Yet after the initial agreement, the trip was never planned, luggage wasn't packed, carriages weren't called. As the days grew more and more near, you worried about the long trek to Liyue from Snezhnaya. You'd miss the Rite if you left too late, yet there was no urgency on his side of the deal.

He hummed for a moment, thinking with that face you hated so much. It meant he had more up his sleeve. You knew better than to trust a harbinger to withhold their side of the bargain, but like an idiot you still trusted him.

“I have one more request,” he began.

“That's not what we agreed on!” 

“Then I guess you just don't want to go?” 

You crossed your arms in surrender. There was that pout that he loved so much. Those puffed up cheeks and furrowed brows. He could eat you up with how cute you were, practically begging for his attention.

“It's easy, I promise,” he leaned as close to you as he could get and you resisted the urge to slap him again, “Just tell me you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that this was where he was going with it. He always asked you to do it and you always refused. You didn't love him. You hardly even liked him. You despised him actually. Found him disgusting and deplorable. He was less than human in your eyes, more like filth under your feet. But your love for your family outweighed your hatred for him.

“I love you,” you said so monotone, you almost sounded like a robot. Despite your lack of emotion, his face seemed to light up with glee.

“Again,”

“That's not what we agreed-”

He cut you off before you could finish the thought, “Again.”

“I love you,”

“Say my name too,” his voice was breathy, hurried even. You'd never seen his face such a deep shade of red before. It didn't even cross your mind that the Ajax that teased you so much, the Ajax that forced you into a marriage and so many other things, was able to blush. He hushed you again before you could open your mouth in protest, “Say my real name.”

You let out a sigh, “I love you, Ajax.”

His smirk was disgusting as he sat next to you in glee, like the words were sinking into his heart. Childe just sat there, riding the high of feeling your non-existent love before he spoke again calmly.

“I'll have the carriage packed tonight, we leave in the morning,”

Scaramouche

You are Scaramouche's life blood. Truly what keeps him going. His heart which ticks instead of beats, ticks for you, his cold body, warms for you. Although, he'd never admit something as embarrassing as that. Nor would he tell you that he longs for your presence at his side constantly. That he rushes through his assignments, while being noticeably irritable and unapproachable, just so he can make it home to you. Where he'll pretend that he's not head over heels in love with you, and scoffs at your every word. Ignoring you, while simultaneously sticking to you like glue, even with your protests.

He watches couples as they smother each other with affection, kissing each other as if nothing else matters, embracing one another like they're physically unable to tear themselves apart, and he feels something so new to him. Jealousy? No. It's more akin to envy. He wants to do those things and maybe even more. He wants to be the obnoxious couple who can't seem to get their hands off of each other, he wants you to feel the withdrawal from his touch, as he feels from yours.

These are all hopeful thoughts, weary dreams even. He can force you to pretend, but he can't force the feelings. Even if he tells you to look happy when he touches you, there's a lack of light in your eyes that he can't even punish away. You'll never truly feel the way he wants you to. Not now, at least. But there's a wishful part inside of him that claws at his chest, hoping that someday you'll develop those feelings. As he watches you across the parlor, your focus more on the calligraphy that he told you to do than anything else, he knows that that day won't be soon.

You look so beautiful while trying to perfect the brush strokes. Ethereal even. Your skin glows under warm candle light, and even though you try to appear emotionless in front of him, the face you make when you concentrate always finds its way out.

“I'll be leaving on a mission soon,” he finally says into the silence.

You raised your head from your work, looking him in the eye before you speak. You truly are obedient, just as he trained you to be.

“Safe travels, my Lord,” you reply with that saccharine sweet voice, but he knows there's no meaning behind it. No compassion, no joy, no hope. You'd be happy if he died out there, still feeling the same indifference towards him that you do right now. It'd actually make you happier.

His mind shifts back to those couples he'd always see, the ones that were stuck to each other like glue. They'd beg and cry for the other not to leave, holding their hands to pull their lover back in a display of desperation for their time. Yet here you sat. Indifferent. Uncaring. Unloving.

“Don't you have anything else to say to me?” He questioned while that part of him that was still holding on to hope was fighting its way out. If you just told him to stay he would. If you told him that you loved him, he'd come home even quicker. He'd be more brutal, just for the chance to slip into your embrace. Yet only confusion met his question.

“I'll see you soon?” Words which were supposed to be spoken as a gesture of love, were coming out as a question. You didn't want to see him soon, nor did you wish for him to travel safely. Your lack of care has him seething, but only his regular, nonchalant demeanor showed on his face.

“Would you rather kneel on rice or go five days without food?”

Your head shot up when you heard his question, his voice cold and serious. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly, you wondered if he could hear it. He didn't have to to know how tense you were at the idea of the punishments, he could see it in your expression. Your look of indifference was quickly changed to fear, large doe eyes threatening to fill with tears.

“Neither, my Lord,” you stammered out, “I don't think I've done anything worthy of punishment.”

And you hadn't. You’d done everything he told you to, exactly the way he wanted you to. Yet his ego and constant need for more of you, to claim you as his entirely, to swallow you whole, it made him angry. He'd given you a better life than you'd ever had before, he'd give you anything you wished for if you'd just open your pretty little mouth to ask, and all he wanted in return was your affection. Your attention. Your love.

“I'll ask you again, even though you know I hate repeating myself,” his red framed eyes glared down at you. Even at his short stature, he suddenly felt mountain tall, dwarfing above you in a way that made you want to sink into yourself, “I'll be leaving on a mission soon, do you have anything to say to me?”

You gulped down your saliva, feeling the way you had to force it down your throat as more pooled in your mouth, “Safe….safe travels, my Lord,” you stuttered. It was the same thing you always said, the same thing you were told to say. He left on trips often, but the script never changed. You were to wish him safe travels and see him off at the door. Yet here you stood before him, a quivering mess as he glared down at you, growing angrier at what was presumably the wrong answer.

“You must want to be punished,” he hummed while looking disinterested.

The pain of rice digging into your knees or the hunger pains of starvation, they were both punishments you knew well. Neither was one you wanted to experience again. After such hard work to act the way he wanted you to, you'd gone a long time without being punished. But the way he was looking at you struck fear in your head, your hands trembled as you desperately began to plead.

“I don't understand, my lord, please tell me what I'm doing wrong,”

“You really are stupid,” he scoffed, but there was a flush forming in his face as he realized just how overboard he was going for this one little thing. Something he'd never asked for before. But the thought was eating away at him, the hope was clawing out of his body. Bashfully, he looked down at the floor, “Tell me that you love me…and that you'll miss me while I'm gone.”

Your tears were dried quickly and you slowed your labored breathing. A bit of anger was bubbling in the pit of your stomach, anger at the fact that was going to punish you over something so miniscule, anger you hadn't felt towards him since the very beginning of this all. Since the day he told you that you were going to be his wife, but it wasn't a question, it was an order. Your very first order.

“I love you, my lord. I'll miss you so very much while you're gone,” you wondered if he wanted a performance. You did your best to make the words sound genuine, despite the way you detested him and his finicky personality.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, his voice sounding almost hopeful. In his heart of hearts he knew it wasn't true, but that didn't stop the excitement from growing.

“Of course, my Lord,” you lied. It was a good lie though, seeing as it earned you a subtle smile upon his lips.

“I'll bring you back a gift from Mondstadt, for being so good recently” he whispered while lightly patting your head. But the enticing idea of a gift wasn't even enough to pull you from your fear. You'd dodged a bullet, but there were more to come.

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

sweet thing

part I

Pairing: Sam x Ruby x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and Ruby have played the long game. And you're innocence is about to be lost.

Warnings: 18+!, language, manipulation, demon blood era Sam, Ruby is a warning by herself, corruption, coercion, praise, smut (dirty talk, kissing, fingering, oral/cunnilingus, overstim, p in v, spitting, threesome f/f/m), I may have missed some.

Word Count: 6,245

A/N: OH BOY. Zoe, my sweetpea, I hope you liked this one. I know I REALLY liked it... I'm sorry it's so long, but also... not sorry at all, aha. Anyways... give me some feedback, y'all. Please. I love when I get comments on things that come out of my very pathological brain. This was born because I'm ovulating. Shush. <3 I might write more Ruby stuff in all honestly, because... well, Ruby. RUBY SUPREMACY. All the love.

You didn't mean to stay with them.

At first, it was just a night. One blood-soaked hunt, too many screams, and Sam stepping between you and something you weren't ready for. He didn't say much—just pressed a cloth to your arm, asked your name in that quiet, steady voice, and told you it was going to be okay.

Ruby smiled behind him like she already knew it wouldn't be.

They brought you back to their motel room, patched you up with gentle hands and dark eyes, and you didn't leave the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Two months later, you still didn't know why.

You told yourself it was safety. That the way Sam looked at you—soft and too-long—was protection, not possession. That Ruby's fingers brushing your thigh were comfort, not calculation. You convinced yourself they needed you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

You were theirs. They had decided that long before you realised you had no choice in the matter.

They met you at your worst—bloody, shaking, stupid with adrenaline. Your first real hunt had gone sideways, and whatever experience you thought you had meant nothing when the claws hit skin. You should've died. You were ready to. But Sam was there, and Ruby moved like smoke, and the thing was gone before you even saw it clearly.

"Poor baby," Ruby had murmured, crouching beside you while Sam checked your wounds. "Too pretty to go out like that."

You'd flinched when she touched you, and she smiled like that was her favourite part.

You never asked why they took you with them. Sam had said something about keeping an eye on you, but his mouth twitched like it wasn't the whole truth. Ruby just grinned and said you were better off not knowing. You nodded. You didn't ask again.

At first, they let you come on hunts. Small ones. Salt-and-burns, poltergeists. Sam showed you how to hold a blade properly. Ruby taught you how to lie. You were good at both.

But over time, they started leaving you behind.

"It's too dangerous," Sam said.

"She's not ready," Ruby added, her hand stroking your back through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You didn't argue. You told yourself it was kindness. That they were protecting you. That it wasn't about keeping you soft.

But then came the looks. The touches. The nights where Sam would come back covered in blood, eyes sharp with something feral, and Ruby would kiss his knuckles while you watched from across the room, trying not to shake.

They never made you watch. But they never really let you look away, either.

They talked about him sometimes.

Dean.

You only ever caught the name in whispers. "He wouldn't understand."  or,"Dean would've stopped this." or, "Dean's gone." Always followed by a pause. Always followed by Ruby looking at Sam like she was daring him to fall apart.

You didn't know who he was. You didn't ask.

Every time you got too close to the door, every time you hovered outside just long enough to hear more, one of them would call out like they felt you there.

Sam's soft: "Baby?"

Or Ruby's syrupy: "Sweet thing, come here."

You always obeyed.

Sometimes, when they thought you were asleep, Sam would sit at the edge of your bed and run his hand down your hair. Just once. Just enough to make your breath catch. Sometimes, Ruby would slip under the covers beside you and whisper nonsense until you drifted off—half-lullaby, half-possession.

You weren't sure when it stopped being strange. You only knew that when they were gone too long, your chest felt empty. And when they came back, you'd breathe again. You weren't stupid. You just didn't know how to leave.

The rain started two hours ago.

It tapped against the window in slow, steady beats, like a clock winding down—like something counting out the seconds until they came back. You sat curled on the end of the bed in your pyjamas, legs pulled up, sleeves hanging past your wrists. The television glowed faintly in the dark, but you weren't watching. You hadn't really watched anything in days.

You just waited. You always waited.

The door creaked open a little after midnight.

Sam came in first, wet to the shoulders, eyes shadowed and far away. Blood soaked one sleeve of his shirt. You didn't ask whose. Ruby followed behind him, skin shining with water, hair stuck to her cheeks like tendrils.

She smiled when she saw you. Not kind. Not cruel. Just... like she already knew.

"Still awake, baby?" Her voice was smoke and candy.

You nodded. Sam didn't say anything. He locked the door behind them, set his knife down on the table like he was placing something sacred. You watched his hands—big, veined, careful. Ruby peeled off her jacket and let it drop to the floor.

"Poor thing," she murmured, walking past him. "All alone in the dark. Bet you were scared."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she was already kneeling in front of you, wet fingers brushing your knee where your pyjama shorts had ridden up. Her touch was cold. You shivered.

"Didn't like being away from us, huh?"

Sam sat down in the chair across from the bed, his legs spread wide, elbows on his knees. His eyes never left you.

"She hates it," he said softly. "I think she's scared we won't come back."

You looked down, cheeks burning.

"I'm not—"

"It's okay," Ruby cooed. "You should be scared. There's bad things out there, sweet girl. Things that want to hurt you. But we'd never let that happen." She leaned closer, nose brushing your jaw. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. Her hand slid higher on your thigh.

"You're a good girl."

There had been... moments.

Once, in another town, Ruby had let you sleep against her in the back of the car, and you'd woken to find her fingers in your hair and Sam's eyes on your legs in the rearview.

Once, when you'd had a nightmare, Sam had pulled you into his lap, shirtless and half-asleep, and you'd felt him hard under you. He didn't move. He didn't stop either.

Once, Ruby had kissed your neck while laughing at something Sam said, and you'd gone stiff all over, heart beating like you were running from something. But she only giggled and said, "So easy to fluster. It's adorable."

You weren't sure when your body had stopped listening to you. Or when the idea of leaving had started to sound like dying.

Ruby climbed up behind you on the bed now, curled against your back, legs bracketing yours.

"You've been so patient with us," she whispered against your neck. "Hasn't she, Sam?"

He hummed low in his throat, eyes raking down your frame.

"She's always good," he murmured. "Even when she doesn't understand."

Your breath caught. Ruby kissed just behind your ear.

"Do you want to understand, baby?"

You nodded before you knew what you were agreeing to.

Ruby smiled against your skin. Sam stood slowly, crossing to the bed, and the air changed—thickened. You watched him the whole way, your lips parting when he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your cheek.

"We'd never lie to you," he said, low and warm. "But there are things you're not ready for. Things that would scare you."

"We keep you soft because we love you," Ruby added, her hand sliding up your arm. "Don't you like being soft for us?"

You swallowed hard. "I... I think so."

Sam's mouth curled at the corner.

"That's our girl."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead—so tender it made your eyes sting. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

"You don't have to think so," he whispered. "You just have to be."

They didn't kiss you that night. They didn't touch you like that. But Ruby held you in bed, and Sam sat in the chair until morning, watching. His hands didn't stop shaking. You didn't ask why.

You dreamt of red eyes and whispered names and Sam's voice saying, "She's ours. No one touches her but us."

You woke up aching and didn't know why.

They thought you were asleep. You were supposed to be. The lights were off, your hoodie was still warm from Ruby's perfume, and you'd curled up like always—safe and small beneath too many blankets in too big a bed.

But something about the way they said "we need to talk" had twisted in your chest.

Ruby's hand had been gentle on your back as she whispered to Sam that they'd take the room next door. Just for a bit. Just to "talk business." You'd nodded sleepily, like a good girl. Like someone who didn't immediately sit up the second the door clicked shut.

Now?

Now you were barefoot on the cheap motel carpet, heart fluttering, palm pressed to the adjoining door like it might burn you.

It was cracked open. Just an inch. Just enough.

Their voices leaked through, low and urgent.

"She's not ready," Sam was saying. His voice was strained—tired, fraying at the edges. "She's barely holding on as it is. If we push too hard—"

"She's perfect, Sam." Ruby's voice was velvet and smoke. "She's soft, scared, completely dependent. She'd do anything you asked."

Silence.

Then Ruby again, slower this time. Sharper.

"You think you're protecting her by waiting. But you're just dragging it out. You're making her confused. She doesn't know what you want. And she's starting to wonder."

Something slammed—maybe his hand against the table, maybe his fist against the wall. You pressed your hand tighter to the doorframe, mouth dry.

"She's pure." Sam again. Quieter. Like it hurt to say. "She trusts us. I don't want to ruin that."

"You already have." Ruby's tone turned sweet. "And she loves you for it."

You swallowed hard. And then—just as your breath caught and you started to step back—

"She's here."

Your blood turned to ice.

"She's listening."

Ruby opened the door before you could run.

She stood framed in soft yellow light, one shoulder bare, hair tumbling over her collarbone. Her lips curved when she saw you—like a cat catching something small and trembling.

"Hi, baby."

Your voice caught. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Of course you didn't," she purred. "Come here."

You hesitated.

Her fingers extended slowly. Her voice softened into something intimate and honey-warm.

"You don't have to listen at the door, sweet thing. If you want to know what we're talking about, you just have to ask."

You stepped forward before you meant to. Her hand curled around yours and tugged you gently into the room.

Sam was standing beside the table, hands braced on the wood like he'd been holding himself up. His eyes met yours—and he looked wrecked. Pupils blown wide. Jaw clenched. Like you'd caught him mid-sin.

"She shouldn't—" he started, but Ruby cut him off.

"She should."

She brought you closer, her body warm behind yours as she pressed you into Sam's line of sight.

"You want to protect her?" She whispered, lips ghosting your ear. "Then stop pretending she doesn't already belong to us."

Sam exhaled hard. His gaze dropped—your bare legs, the hem of your sleep shirt, the way your breathing had turned shallow.

"We're not trying to hurt you," he said hoarsely. "You know that, right?"

You nodded. You meant it. Your voice trembled anyway.

"I trust you."

Ruby made a pleased sound behind you. Her hands skimmed your waist, resting low on your hips.

"Good girl," she murmured.

You felt her smile against your neck.

"That's all we've ever wanted."

They didn't kiss you. Not yet. But Ruby turned you around in her arms, pressed your forehead to hers and said:

"You're already halfway gone, baby. Just let go."

Sam stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. You didn't see the moment he stepped forward—but you felt it. The heat. The pull. The weight of him.

"We'll take care of you," he whispered. "You don't have to think anymore. You just have to be ours."

You closed your eyes and nodded. You didn't understand what was wrong with Sam—but something was.

His chest was rising too fast. His jaw clenched and unclenched like it was wired too tight, and his eyes... his eyes looked wrong. Black-ringed, glossy, so blown out you could barely see the colour. He looked at you like he was starving.

Like he'd been starving for a while.

Ruby was calm. Radiant. She moved with syrup-slow precision, curling one hand around your wrist and bringing it to her lips as she smiled at Sam.

"She's so good for us," she murmured. Her breath was warm against your skin. "Aren't you, baby?"

You nodded before you even knew what you were agreeing to.

Sam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. His fists tightened where they hung at his sides.

"Ruby..." he said low, like a warning.

But she just giggled—light, pretty, dangerous.

"She wants this," she said simply. "You think I haven't seen the way she watches you? The way she trembles when you say her name?"

She turned toward you, brushing a finger along your jaw.

"Don't you want to be touched, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You could only nod again, your lips parted, breath shaky. You felt like your whole body was made of heat and nothing.

Ruby kissed you before you could think.

It wasn't soft—not really. It was slow, but insistent, her mouth warm and firm against yours. Her hands gripped your waist like she owned you. Like she had every right. Her tongue slipped past your lips and you gasped into it, your knees going weak, clinging to her shirt like it might save you.

When she pulled back, you were dizzy.

"See?" She said sweetly. "So easy."

She led you backward, fingers laced in yours, and gently sat you down in the worn motel chair by the window. The fabric was cold under your bare thighs.

Sam hadn't moved. He stood like a statue at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, eyes locked on yours like he couldn't look away.

"Sit," Ruby told him, her tone turning just slightly firmer.

And he did.

She guided him down until he sat at the edge of the bed—his legs spread, boots still planted on the carpet. He looked massive, ruined, caught in the middle of something he couldn't name. His hands gripped the edge of the bed like he was afraid to touch anything.

Ruby turned back to you, lips wet, cheeks flushed.

"Watch closely, baby."

She climbed into Sam's lap in one slow, fluid motion, straddling him. His hands hovered at her sides like he was afraid to hold her. But Ruby leaned in, close to his ear, speaking words too soft for you to hear.

Then she turned her head to look at you—smiling. Like this was all a show, and you were the only audience that mattered.

"He's so worked up, poor thing," she purred. "Do you want a turn?"

Your breath caught.

"You wanna be a good girl and help us feel better?"

You nodded, your thighs clenching together on instinct.

Ruby kissed Sam then—messy and deep, her fingers in his hair. He groaned into it, hands finally finding her hips. She rocked against him once and his whole body jerked.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice shredded. "Ruby—"

She pulled back and looked at you again.

"Come here, sweet thing."

You stood on shaky legs.

"Take my place," she whispered, climbing off him slowly, deliberately, dragging her fingers down his chest. "Be good."

You moved without thinking.

Sam's eyes were wild when you stepped between his knees—dark and blown, lips parted. His hands hovered, not quite touching.

Ruby slid behind you, her arms around your waist as she guided you down—down into his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your breath coming short and fast.

"That's it," she whispered, lips against your ear. "Feel how hard he is for you? How much he wants you?"

You whimpered, your thighs tightening as she rocked your hips forward once—slow, grinding you down against him.

Sam's head dropped back with a groan.

"Ruby—fuck, she doesn't—"

"She wants to," Ruby said. "Don't you, baby?"

You nodded helplessly.

"Say it," Ruby coaxed. "Tell him you want to make him feel good."

Your voice was barely a breath.

"I want to make you feel good..."

Sam's hands finally touched you. Gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. His voice cracked when he said your name.

Ruby purred.

"Good girl."

You didn't mean to moan—but it slipped out anyway.

Just a soft, broken sound in the back of your throat as Ruby rocked your hips forward again, grinding you down into the thick, aching heat of Sam's cock through his jeans.

His head dropped forward, mouth brushing your collarbone. He made a noise like he was choking on the feel of you.

"Fuck, she's—Ruby, I can't—"

"You can," she whispered, wrapping her arms around you from behind. "You will. Look at her, Sammy. Look how sweet she is. So wet for you already and you haven't even touched her yet."

Your sleep shirt had ridden up to your waist, bunched just under your ribs. Sam's hands were under it now—hot and wide and shaking, gripping your hips like he was holding back an earthquake. You could feel every twitch of him beneath you, trapped behind the denim, burning through it.

You couldn't stop shaking.

"You wanna help him, don't you?" Ruby's voice was syrup in your ear. "He's been so good. He's been waiting for you. Doesn't he deserve to feel good?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering.

"Yes..."

"Say it, baby. Say I want to make Sam feel good."

Your breath hitched.

"I... I want to make Sam feel good."

Sam groaned like it hurt. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted and flushed.

"Jesus Christ..."

Ruby's hands slid down your belly, fingertips just brushing the waistband of your panties. You gasped.

"That's our good girl," she whispered. "So responsive. So needy. Tell me, baby—have you ever been touched like this before?"

You whimpered. "No..."

"Mm." She kissed just behind your ear. "Even better."

Her fingers slid lower.

Sam's hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your waist, your lower back. His grip was rough, frantic, like he didn't know where to start. Like he wanted all of you at once.

"Ruby, I need—"

"I know," she said sweetly, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers through the soaked heat between your thighs. "Look at her, Sam. She's dripping."

Your whole body jolted. You tried to twist away from the sensation, but Ruby only giggled and held you still.

"Shh, baby. Let us take care of you. You're doing so well."

She pulled her hand away slowly, teasing, and brought her fingers to Sam's mouth.

"Open."

He obeyed without thinking—lips parting as Ruby slid her fingers past them. He moaned low, guttural, eyes dark with something feral as he tasted you for the first time.

You made a wounded little sound, thighs trembling, head falling forward.

"Fuck—" he breathed. "She's... Ruby, she's perfect."

"I told you," she said, brushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ear like you were porcelain. "Didn't I say she'd be perfect?"

Then she leaned in again, voice like sin wrapped in silk.

"You ready for more, sweet thing?"

You couldn't speak. You just nodded. And it seemed that was all the encouragement Sam needed to shift the two of you further back onto the bed, keeping you pressed to him the entire time.

Ruby moved to sit behind you on the bed, one leg tucked under her, the other bracketing your thigh. Her hands slid up your sides, slow and soothing.

"Ride him just like that, baby," she whispered. "You're making him feel so good."

You whimpered, your hands resting on Sam's shoulders, your hips rocking in slow, helpless circles as heat curled tighter in your belly.

"You wanna keep going?" She asked, her voice dipped in honey. "Wanna make him feel even better?"

You nodded, dizzy and breathless.

"Then be a good girl and let me help you."

Her fingers slipped between your thighs again—this time not teasing. She manoeuvred you up off Sam's lap for a second, hooked her thumbs in your panties and dragged them down slowly, peeling them off and dropping them to the floor like they meant nothing.

Sam groaned beneath you, head tipping forward to rest against your chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

Ruby smiled against your shoulder and whispered like a secret:

"Now ride him for real, sweet thing."

You were shaking.

Not from fear. Not exactly. But from something hot and thick curling in your belly, something too big to name. Your panties were gone, discarded on the floor like they'd never mattered. Sam was still hard beneath you, denim rough against your bare heat, and your hips were moving because Ruby told you to.

You were soaked.

You knew it. You felt it. The fabric of his jeans was sticky between your thighs and Sam was groaning, his head bowed low, sweat dampening the ends of his hair as he clutched at your waist like he might lose control.

It was too much.

"I... I don't know what to do," you whispered, voice trembling. "What do I... do?"

Ruby leaned in behind you again, her hands smoothing over your thighs, her lips brushing your ear.

"Aw, baby," she crooned. "You've really never done this before, have you?"

You swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"No..."

"Anything?" She asked softly, deceptively gentle. "Have you ever touched yourself? Let anyone else touch you?"

You flushed so hard your skin burned.

"N-no. I—I mean, not... not really..."

Ruby made a pleased little sound, like you'd just handed her the key to a locked room she'd been dying to enter.

"God, you really are perfect."

Her hands squeezed your thighs gently, her mouth warm at your jaw.

"Do you want to learn, sweet thing? Want to let us show you what feels good?"

You nodded, dazed.

"Say it."

"I... I want you to show me."

"Good girl."

Ruby kissed your shoulder, then gently—almost reverently—lifted you off of Sam's lap. He let out a breathless, broken sound, like even losing your weight made him ache. Ruby turned to him, tone shifting just enough to make it clear who was in charge here.

"Back," she said. "Now."

Sam didn't argue.

He moved further onto the bed in a slow, stiff blur, eyes glued to you like he couldn't believe this was real. His chest was rising fast, pupils blown to hell, lips parted like he might start begging. He looked like he was in pain.

You stood there, half-naked and trembling, your oversized sleep shirt hitched up high, bare legs shaking.

"Lie down, baby," Ruby said, turning her attention back to you. Her hands cupped your cheeks, her eyes glowing with soft, wicked promise. "Let us take care of you."

You obeyed.

She helped you down onto the bed, gently easing you onto your back, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips. You clung to her without meaning to, your fingers curling in her shirt, your legs twitching nervously.

"You're doing so good," she whispered. "You're being so brave. You'll love it, I promise. It's gonna feel so good..."

Her lips trailed lower—down your throat, between your collarbones, soft and slow. Her hands pushed your shirt up higher and higher, until your stomach was bare, your chest rising and falling like you'd run a mile.

She kissed every inch of exposed skin.

"Such soft skin... so untouched..."

Her hands slid down your thighs again—comforting, coaxing. Sam let out another choked sound, and when you looked over at him, his eyes were fixed between your legs, his hand gripping the bed like he might break it.

Ruby kissed the inside of your knee. Then your thigh. Then lower.

"Let me show you what it's supposed to feel like, sweet thing," she murmured, her breath ghosting over your heat. "You'll never want anything else after this."

You gasped when her mouth finally touched you—slow, teasing, masterful. You jolted, your hips bucking up in shock, but her hands held you down, firm but still gentle, like she'd done this before. Like she knew exactly how to unravel a girl like you.

You reached for something—anything—and Sam was there in an instant.

He crawled up beside you, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you moaned helplessly beneath Ruby's mouth.

"You're okay," he whispered. "You're doing so good. God, you are so good..."

You turned your face into his neck, panting, whining, your thighs trembling as Ruby sucked softly on your clit, her tongue drawing slow, filthy circles that made your whole body clench.

"Let go, baby," she whispered between licks. "Be our good girl and come for us."

Your first orgasm broke over you like something sacred.

One second you were gasping into Sam's neck, Ruby's mouth still moving between your thighs, and the next—your back arched, a sob tore from your throat, and your whole body shuddered like you'd been struck by lightning.

It wasn't sharp—it was overwhelming. Full-body. Wringing you out like wet cloth. Sam held your hand tighter, whispering praise that barely landed, and Ruby moaned against your cunt like she felt it, like your release was something for her.

"God, baby," she breathed, and then—she slipped a finger inside you, slow and deliberate.

You jolted, a strangled cry slipping out as aftershocks tore through you. Sam's grip on your hand went white-knuckled.

Ruby moaned.

"She's so warm, Sam," she said, voice thick, dreamy. "So wet. You have no idea."

You whined, writhing, but Ruby only kissed your thigh like a reward and pulled her finger out—slick, shining.

"You're such a good girl for us," she whispered. "That was so beautiful."

She crawled back up your body, her skin hot against yours, and kissed your lips again. Deep, slow, tasting like you.

"Sam," she purred between kisses, her voice dipped in smoke. "You have to try this."

Sam didn't speak.

He just grabbed her—hard. One hand in her hair, the other on her hip, yanking her off you with a roughness that made your breath catch. He crushed his mouth to hers in a brutal kiss—desperate, consuming—and then shoved her aside like she was nothing more than a gatekeeper to his altar.

His altar being you.

He dropped between your legs without a word, spreading you open with shaking hands, and dove in like a man starved.

You screamed.

It was too much. Still trembling from your first orgasm, your body overloaded, you cried out as his tongue dragged through your folds, moaning against you like he was fucking possessed. And maybe he was. His grip on your thighs was bruising, his mouth unrelenting.

"Oh my god—S-Sam—!"

You tried to close your legs on instinct, but he just growled—growled—and shoved them wider, burying his face deeper.

"That's it," Ruby whispered, curling up beside you again. Her fingers found your hair, stroking it gently, brushing it behind your ears with all the tenderness of a mother tucking in her child. "Let him ruin you, baby. You're being so perfect."

You whimpered, face twisting into something close to pain.

"It's too much..."

"Shhh." Her hand cupped your cheek. "That's what makes it good."

Sam groaned between your thighs, low and wrecked. His tongue moved faster, deeper, insistent, like he couldn't get enough. Like he wanted to crawl inside you and stay.

"You feel that, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, her mouth close to yours. "That's what happens when you give yourself over."

She kissed you again—languid, possessive, one hand still petting you like you were something to soothe and subdue.

"Open your mouth for me," she whispered. "You're drooling. It's cute."

You blinked, dazed, lips parting as her thumb pressed to your jaw.

"Let me feel it."

You obeyed.

She kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue slick against yours, swallowing your moans and the helpless sounds you made as Sam devoured you like he'd die if he stopped.

"That's it," she said softly. "Drool in my mouth, baby. You're doing so good."

She turned her head slightly, speaking to Sam like you weren't even there.

"She's so sensitive. Barely came once and look at her—already shaking for you."

Sam just groaned in response, too lost to speak. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his tongue relentless, and you broke again with a sharp cry into Ruby's mouth.

You couldn't stop crying. Your legs wouldn't stop trembling, your voice had gone hoarse from moaning, and Sam was still between your thighs, tongue moving like he didn't hear you—like he didn't care.

"S-Sam—p-please—" Your fingers twisted in the sheets, your hips jerking, but his arms locked you down. "I—I c-can't—!"

Ruby was still beside you, still stroking your hair like nothing was wrong.

"Sam," she said softly. "Baby, she's crying."

He didn't stop.

He growled against you—low and guttural—and sucked harder, dragging his tongue with filthy, practiced strokes that had your spine arching, tears streaking your cheeks.

"Do you need him to stop, sweet thing?" Ruby whispered, brushing her thumb over your wet lashes.

You sobbed. Nodded.

"Y-yes—please—I c-can't take anymore—"

"Aww," she cooed, her voice like poisoned honey. "My poor baby. You're so sensitive. So perfect for him."

You gasped when Sam gripped your thighs tighter—his fingertips digging in, holding you wide open as his mouth moved faster, chasing another orgasm like he was possessed.

Ruby leaned in closer, her voice dipped in false sympathy.

"If he stops now..." she said sweetly, "...he's going to be so unsatisfied. That wouldn't be fair to him, would it?"

You blinked, dazed and wrecked, chest heaving.

"W-what...?"

"He's been waiting for you for so long, baby," she continued, stroking your cheek. "He's so hard it hurts. If you really want him to stop, you're gonna have to give him something."

You whimpered, nodding blindly.

"Anything, please—j-just make him stop—"

Ruby smiled like the devil in silk.

"Then you'll let him fuck you, sweet thing?" She kissed your temple. "You'll let him put his cock in that sweet little pussy and use you the way he needs to?"

Your lips trembled. You were crying so hard now it didn't feel real. But you nodded again. You couldn't think past the overstimulation—just needed him out from between your legs, needed something to change.

"Yes—yes, please—please—just make him stop—"

Ruby sat up, her voice turning firm.

"Sam. Stop."

He didn't move.

"Sam."

He growled—growled, full-bodied, vibrating the bed. His eyes were black, mouth wet, breath ragged.

"Don't—don't fucking tell me to stop—"

Ruby laughed.

"You'll thank me in thirty seconds, big boy."

She shoved him back by the shoulder, and this time—barely—he let her. He knelt between your legs, panting, pupils swallowing the green of his eyes.

Ruby leaned over you again, her hands spreading your legs wider.

"You're gonna take him now," she whispered. "You're gonna let him fuck you like he's been dreaming about for weeks. And you're gonna thank him for it."

You sobbed. Nodded.

Sam's hands fumbled with his jeans, dragging them down far enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, angry red with need. He didn't say a word. He just looked at you, hair in his face, jaw clenched, chest heaving.

"She said yes, Sammy," Ruby whispered. "She wants it. She wants you."

Sam moved fast.

He grabbed your hips, yanked you down the bed, and pressed the blunt head of his cock to your slick entrance. You gasped, eyes wide, every nerve ending screaming.

"You ready, sweet thing?" Ruby murmured, mouth at your ear. "You ready to be his?"

You whispered it, broken.

"Yes..."

Then Sam sank into you in one brutal thrust, and the sound you made wasn't human.

Your back arched, your breath vanished, and your body clenched around him like it didn't know how to take it. He was thick, hot, impossibly deep—and still moving, dragging out slowly, then slamming back in so hard the headboard rattled against the wall.

"Fuck—fuck— you feel unreal," he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, his voice wrecked. "So fucking tight—shit, baby, you were made for me—"

You cried out, hands grasping at the sheets, your body already fried and raw from overstimulation. Every thrust felt like lightning—too much, too deep, too good.

"You okay, baby?" Ruby murmured beside you, her voice sweet and syrupy. "You still with us?"

You nodded through the sob that escaped you, and she smiled like you'd just done something precious.

"That's my girl."

Sam fucked into you harder—hard enough to make the bed creak, his grip bruising on your hips. He looked elated, lost in it, mouth open as he moaned through gritted teeth.

"So fucking pretty when you cry," he panted. "Look at you—look what you're giving me—fuck—"

Ruby slid closer, still fully clothed, lips ghosting your temple.

"She's drooling again," she said with a laugh, her tone sing-song and amused. "You love this too much, sweet thing. Can't even keep your mouth closed."

You whimpered, your thighs shaking, and she kissed your cheek sweetly.

"That's okay," she whispered. "We love how messy you are."

Her hand slipped beneath her waistband, fingers curling—and then she took your trembling wrist and guided it down with her.

"Here," she murmured. "You wanna be good for me? Touch me."

Your fingers slipped beneath the lace, and you gasped when you felt how wet she was—soaked, hot, throbbing against your hand. She moaned low in your ear.

"That's it," she breathed. "Let me show you..."

Her hand wrapped around yours, using you, grinding down onto your fingers as Sam fucked you open in deep, brutal strokes that made your stomach tighten and your vision blur.

"Move in little circles," Ruby whispered, guiding your fingers. "Mmm—just like that, baby. You're such a fast learner."

Sam was losing it.

"She's touching you?" He groaned, looking down at you both, sweat dripping from his hairline. "Fuck, Ruby, fuck— she's so perfect—"

"She's everything," Ruby said with a soft moan, pressing your fingers harder. "She's ours now. Look at her. Look at what she's letting us do."

You choked on a sob, your hand trapped between Ruby's thighs, your body jerking with every thrust of Sam's cock. He was panting now, animalistic, his hands sliding up under your shirt to grope at your breasts, dragging his thumbs over your nipples.

"You hear that, baby?" Ruby crooned. "Hear how wet you are? How wet I am? It's all for you."

"You feel so good—so fucking good—" Sam growled, his thrusts speeding up, sloppy and deep. "I'm never gonna stop—never—never letting you go—"

Ruby grabbed your jaw, turned your face toward her, and kissed you like she owned you—tongue pushing into your mouth, swallowing your sobs and your moans, your drool and desperation.

"Open for me, sweet thing," she whispered against your lips. "Let me taste how wrecked you are."

You obeyed. You always obeyed. And as she kissed you, she didn't hold back, drool leaking into your mouth, sliding down your throat like a living thing. Warm. Sweet.

And Sam? Sam was losing it.

Sweat dripped from his chest, his arms were trembling from how hard he held himself above you, and his thrusts—fuck—they were frantic now, so deep and fast it felt like your body couldn't keep up. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was babbling between moans, his voice cracked open, wrecked.

"Can't believe this is real—fuck, you feel like heaven—so tight, so fucking warm—squeezing me, baby, you're fucking—you were made for this—"

Your legs were jelly around his hips. Your voice was gone, reduced to broken gasps and whines as his cock hit that deep spot again and again, the bed groaning under every thrust. Your hand was still between Ruby's thighs, her slick soaking your fingers, and she was rolling her hips against them slowly, deliberately.

"That's it, sweet thing," Ruby purred, her voice so gentle it made your eyes sting. "Let me use that precious little hand. You're such a good girl for us, letting us fuck you just right."

She leaned over you again, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ears, thumbing your jaw open.

"You want something in that mouth, baby?" She whispered sweetly. "You want me to spit in it again?"

You nodded—desperate, dazed, ruined.

She smiled.

"Open up."

She let it hang between her lips for just a second before letting it fall—hot, thick, landing on your tongue like sin. You moaned, tongue twitching, and she cooed.

"Swallow it like a good girl."

You did.

Sam groaned like he might fucking die.

"She's letting you spit in her mouth?" He gasped. "Jesus— fuck, I'm not gonna last—she's so—"

"She wants it, baby," Ruby crooned. "Don't you, sweet thing? You love how good you make him feel?"

You nodded, sobbing.

"Mhmm—yes—yes please—feels so good—!"

Ruby's hand slid between your legs again—while Sam was still fucking you—and her thumb found your clit with perfect, devastating pressure. You screamed, body jerking violently as she circled it with soft, expert cruelty.

"That's it," she whispered. "Let me help you break."

Sam was gone. Gone.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he grunted, thrusts getting rougher, more erratic. "You're gonna take it, right? Let me come inside that pretty little cunt?"

"She wants it," Ruby said, matter-of-fact. "She's mine now. She'll take anything I give her. Won't you, baby?"

You cried out, stars bursting behind your eyes, your fingers slipping deeper into Ruby as her hand guided you.

"Fuck me with them," she murmured, voice like velvet-dipped knives. "Make me come while Sammy fucks you full."

You whimpered, your fingers pumping helplessly into her dripping heat as her thumb rubbed cruel circles into your clit, Sam's cock still slamming deep inside, faster, harder—

"You're mine—ours—fuck, I'm gonna—baby—take it—"

You shattered.

Your body convulsed, the scream caught in your throat, legs kicking uselessly as the orgasm ripped through you like nothing had ever existed before it. Sam groaned so loud it echoed off the walls—and then spilled inside you, hips jerking, cock twitching as he filled you up, panting, gasping, babbling your name and Ruby's in a filthy prayer.

Ruby came on your fingers a moment later, moaning low, hand never stopping on your clit as you sobbed through the comedown—wrecked, full, ruined.

"There you go," she whispered. "That's it, baby. That's my perfect little thing."

She kissed you once, slow and sweet.

"You're never leaving this bed again."

You didn't remember when you stopped crying. Somewhere between Sam's moans and Ruby's mouth, your tears had dried—leaving only heat, and ache, and the tremble in your thighs as you lay between them.

You were sore. Sticky. Wrecked in a way that felt permanent.

But you didn't want to move.

You could still feel Sam's spend leaking out of you, warm and slow. Ruby's breath was soft against your cheek, her fingers still tangled with yours like they had every right to be. Sam's hand rested over your belly—heavy, protective, possessive.

You felt claimed. Worshipped. Ruined.

You stared up at the ceiling, breath ragged, thoughts flickering like static, and it settled in your chest like truth:

You weren't yours anymore.

You didn't know when it had happened—when your body stopped being yours, when your heart shifted, when your innocence dissolved between their hands.

You just knew that it had.

And maybe that should have scared you. Maybe, once, it would have.

But lying there, between them—used, owned, kept—all you felt was peace. Because here, in this bed, you belonged to them. And you weren't sure you ever wanted to leave.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @tinas111 @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @nevercameraready @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l <3

[buckyalpine]

Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

-

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

-

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

-

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

-

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

[kaeyas-beloved]

small words, big meanings

Character: Leon S. Kennedy

— Leon feels too much and nothing at all, you're offering what support you can for him

cw: gn!reader, rev. comfort, i imagined more re4r Leon but really any leon post-rc would work <3 not proofread cause i really just wanted to let the words flow

Leon catches himself mourning the young man he once was more than he'd like to admit. For fleeting moments when looking in the mirror, he can see the boy who was much happier, who thought he had the whole world in front of him with so much to see and do and learn. Who was about to have his dream come true, have something finally go his way after pouring so much dedication during his time in the academy.

Leon breaks a little each day he remembers that time has passed and won't ever come back. He doesn't think he'll ever smile like he did when he was 21, won't feel the lightness in his chest when walking the streets of towns and cities he's staying in. While the world changed around him, he felt like a man frozen and unable to move, like his heart beat slower than anyone else's around him, like his body morphed and changed in slow-mo and other's appeared accelerated.

Even next to you this feeling crept up in his chest, and fuck did he hate it. He didn't want to think about all the shit in his life when he had you who made things just a little easier from time to time. But he did, so fuck him he guesses.

You're not entirely blind to this either, but you can admit it's hard sometimes. It's hard to catch the shift because Leon has that stoic look on his face a lot of the time as a default, leaving you to rely on his eyes and subtle movements to understand what he's thinking. It's hard to watch the little light he mange to hold fizzle from his palms like a spark that pops off a roaring fire - there one second and gone the next.

It kills you to know you can only do so much for him.

It's something you tossed around in your mind as you watch him grab what he needs to head to the store, ingredients needed for dinner missing from the pantry. You would've gone or joined him, but he... not so much insisted, but with the way he spoke you knew he needed this. You get it, you've been there, needing a moment out of the house that became so familiar it was suffocating. So, you relented. Anything for him, anything you'd give if it even had the chance of helping him.

You're pulled from your thoughts as Leon addresses you, going over what he needs to grab one more time.

You wonder if he knows you know, if there was an unspoken dark figure standing in the room with you both that's getting ignored, or if he thinks you don't suspect anything.

After reciting the store mental grocery list, Leon turns back to head out the door with a small I'll be back, but before the door even had a chance to open you were on your feet, swallowing in hopes to rid yourself of the sudden dryness in your throat.

Calling his name, you cross the small distance and wrap your arms around him, resting your head wherever you could just to feel a little closer to him. The stiffness of Leon's shoulders eases after a moment and he looks over his shoulder at you, a brow slightly risen.

"I love you," you murmur, soft, but in the quiet room it sounded and weighted so much more. Good, they're suppose to, because there were far too many things you're not saying yet definitely feeling.

Anything Leon may have had to say dies on his tongue and he's left with just looking at you. Things that made up you started to leave that heavy feeling in his chest, twisting before his very eyes - had you changed too? Of course, you weren't always like you are now, but his eyes play tricks and the you now suddenly doesn't feel like you from this morning, or even the you from mere minutes ago, even when he knew deep in his bones you were.

"I hope one day you can see the world as you've taught me to see it, beyond the scary things it shows us everyday," you say next, and all at once that pressure in his chest eases, just a little. He hopes so too.

Wordless, Leon turns, taking your hands into his and pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers before pulling you into his arms. You could feel the tender way his lips then met your forehead, see the tension leave the slope of his shoulders, hear the breathes he took - in through the mouth and out the nose - and in that moment all you could smell was him with every breath you yourself took.

When the man who holds your entire heart and soul pulls you a little closer to him, pressed flushed against one another and his face still resting against your forehead, you knew Leon was still here with you, still fighting.

And when he pulled away after a long moment basking in your entirety, the tiniest of upturns to the edge of his lips and his own few quiet words were said, it solidified he got your message, both the one spoken and unspoken.

"I love you, too."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do a Sebastian Solace x Reader (gender neutral is fine) where he is led to believe the reader has permanently died? Somehow he receives this information. At this point, him and reader don't have to have an established relationship, but they definitely have a bond and affection for each other. Then, the reader comes into the vent the following day like always, and there's a happy ending? Angsty until then though please 🙏 Thank you so much

"What do you mean they aren't back yet?!"

"......."

"I lent them a token 'cause that was an unfair end to their run. They would've used it by now."

"I'll admit that the Harbinger's...unexpected arrival was most unusual. No one at Urbanshade knows where it comes from nor why it chose to show itself to the expendable."

"[Y/n]."

"Pardon?"

"It's...[y/n].." Sebastian's shoulders slumped as he looked to the enigmatic green man who decided to show up inside his shop, confused by his sudden presence. "And why are you here now? We agreed to only meet when--"

"You seem awfully attached to them, Solace. And that's not good for us." Mr. Lopee frowned slightly. "You're giving them special treatment, putting a name to their face. Don't you want to get out of here?"

"...of course I do! I'm not "attached" to anybody." The fishman muttered, although his nervous tapping against the crates betrayed his insistence. "They've just given me the most dirt on Urbanshade, and I'd hate to lose their business.."

"Well, unfortunately...they have not returned from the Banlands. I don't believe they ever will. I'd consider their soul to be lost in the ocean for eternity."

In an instant, he felt his heart sink into the pits of his stomach, trying to process the words he just heard. "What do you mean "lost"?? She can't find them?!"

"Death has grown weary of her duties." Mr. Lopee answered grimly. "That is all I know. I have no way to contact her, but this may be a sign that she's tired of resurrecting Urbanshade personnel. Those tokens have lost their meaning."

"No..no, no, no. That's stupid!" Sebastian snapped. "She can't just "decide" to stop now!! That wasn't a fair death!"

"Nothing is fair down here, my friend. You of all people should understand that. Now continue your work. Don't let yourself become distracted over one insignificant loss."

"....I won't, "boss"." The fishman sneered rudely, watching him disappear into a cloud of green and black smoke.

But the second he was gone, Sebastian dropped his snarky front, trying his best to stay calm despite the grim news he was told.

There was a way that an expendable can die...permanently?

Did the Harbinger have something to do with that? Or was the ferry lady simply uncaring and decided she was done reviving people?

He knew that she was going to be replaced within the next year or two, so maybe she thought it was all pointless now.

Either way, he'd never know.

And he'd likely never know what really happened to you. He only had to trust Mr. Lopee's words...and begrudgingly so.

""Distracted", my ass. They have to come back eventually. They...they made a promise.." His shoulders sagged as he glanced at the vent again, only for his ear fins to perk up at the sounds of thumping.

"[Y/n]? Hah. I knew he was messing with......me...."

Much to his disappointment, it was just another Wall Dweller infected with the rotten coral who decided to sneak into his shop. And with one swift motion, he dispatched it with his shotgun, watching its head explode into clay and gore as the remains flopped to the ground.

"Ugh..disgusting.." He grumbled, not happy that he had to pick apart the creature piece by piece, wishing he didn't have to touch the alien plant. But all of it was still edible, even for expendables who couldn't even touch the bloxy cola left behind after the lockdown.

You always joked about how it's the only way you could get "greens" in your diet-

'Shit..why am I thinking about them again?'

Sebastian's hands shook a little as he set the pieces on the table, wishing he could tear these stupid feelings out of his chest, wondering why he ever allowed himself to get so close to you in the first place.

He never should have opened up. Not to you. Not to anyone.

There were more important things at stake.

He shouldn't be mourning over you. What good would that do? Mr. Lopee had a point. Maybe he was getting distracted--losing sight of his goal and the burning hatred he had for Urbanshade.

He had to get out. He shouldn't care about some weak little expendable.

And yet...he couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted to escape with you, and maybe even..get to know you a lot better without having to pretend to be business partners. He wouldn't have to pretend to despise you and find you annoying.

Now he couldn't even find out your exact status in the Banlands. But from what Mr. Lopee implied...your soul was forever trapped at the bottom of that dark ocean, surrounded by thousands more.

By thousands of haunted faces and screams he himself once heard when the ferryman scooped him out of the water.

It drove him insane for the remainder of the day, and despite trying to fight his exhaustion by organizing his wares and assets...sleep managed to find him for once.

Yet his dreams were anything but pleasant.

He was forced to witness the horrific scenario of that fabled Harbinger descend upon you, tearing into the locker you were hiding in whilst he was unable to do anything but scream for it to stop tormenting you.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he watched the demonic entity paint the entire room red with your blood.

...........

"Huh..that's weird."

Arriving to the 50th room, you were surprised that the vent grate didn't pop open like normal. You knew for sure Sebastian was there, given the spotlights shining directly towards the entrance to his shop.

So you opened it as quietly as you could--just in case he was sleeping. The last thing you ever wanted to do was startle the sleep-deprived traumatized fishman because of some noise.

He'd rarely doze off, and funny enough it only happened whenever you were in the shop, too, indicating he'd grown to trust you deeply.

You've come a long way in your friendship, although judging by the numerous discounts he's given you, the lack of landmines and ADS devices scattered around, his scoldings becoming less harsh and insulting, and his increasing worry for your safety the further you got into the blacksite....you wondered if he felt something more.

Like..attachment, almost.

But of course, you didn't want to assume anything.

Surely, you're just a means to an end for him. All he cares about are the documents you bring him and nothing more. He's only slightly more concerned for you because you bring him the most valuable stuff and barter with him better than other expendables.

However, as soon as you emerged from the other side of the vent and dusted off your pants, you could see Sebastian was almost...writhing in his sleep, his claws leaving deep marks in the crates as he whimpered, his tail flicking violently.

You had to duck as it suddenly swung over your head, but when you heard him utter your name, you froze with surprise.

Was he...dreaming about you?

You would've been flattered, if not for the realization that he was probably having a nightmare instead. So you quietly went over to him, wondering how you can wake him up and explain your....absence.

You couldn't return to the living world for some time after the Harbinger killed you, and surely...he's gonna realize that and get pissed off at you "wasting" another ferry token.

You just pray he believes you.

"Seb? Wake up." Stepping onto his desk was a risk, but it was one worth taking as it allowed you to get close to him so you could shake his shoulder. It took him some time to get used to your touch, and thankfully he's more comfortable with it now.

Suddenly, he gasped as his eyes snapped open, his upper body sitting up with such a start. You damn near fell off the table, but managed to keep your balance as you stared up at him.

He saw you, and only your uniform, and got angry.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!! GET OUT-!!!"

"Sebastian it's me!! It's me!!" You shouted, your voice rising a few octaves as you held your hands up.

He huffed and puffed, beads of sweat dotting his hairline as he looked down and slowly began to recognize your face.

And then the realization hit him.

You were here. Alive. Breathing.

You were back as if nothing had happened.

"[Y/n]?" He shuddered. "Shit..sorry. H-How are you...? I'm not seeing a ghost, am I?"

"I'm not. And know you're mad, so let me explain.." You sighed, putting your hands down. "I tried coming back, but the portal was busted, so I got...stuck on the other side for a while. The ferry lady was nice enough to show me how to repair it, though she didn't say much else. She seemed to appreciate me expressing my condolences for her husband, and....."

You trailed off as Sebastian put a hand on your shoulder, and at first you were worried he was going to throttle you for making him wait this long...

Only for him to pull you into a quick embrace, lifting you off your feet. "Ah..I'm sorry, Seb." You hugged him back, feeling guilty. "I guess I've been away too long, huh?"

"..it's been an entire day."

"Really?" Your heart sunk as he let you go, setting you back on the floor. "God, I...I had no idea. You must have been freaking out."

"Only...a little bit.." He muttered, managing to calm himself down as he brushed his bangs to the side. "Someone has...led me to believe that you died permanently. But they were wrong, so it doesn't matter anymore."

You were quiet for a moment, debating on whether or not to question who told him that, but you didn't wanna stress him out over the details, considering how shaken-up he got.

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't." You shrugged, deciding to look at the wares Sebastian had available.

Unfortunately, you lost all the assets you collected this time, although there wasn't anything of utter importance that you needed right now. But after grabbing the keycard to leave....he blocked the vent with his tail. "Seb?"

"Why don't you stay here a while? Hm?" He coughed, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Why? In case the big bad Harbinger gets me?" You chuckled, only to fall silent as he didn't laugh at all. "Alright, bad joke. I'll stick around for a bit."

Judging from how his shoulders instantly relaxed the moment you said that, you realized he did care more for your safety than other expendables. He didn't want you running back out into danger so quickly, especially as he knew that if you were to revive again, the ferryman...won't really like that.

It was kinda sweet seeing him act so clingy with just you, even when he didn't wanna outright admit it.

[createdbytragedy]

HERE FOR YOU, WITH YOU

⋆｡°✩Pairing: Lee Minho x reader ⋆｡°✩Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt with comfort ⋆｡°✩Warning(s): mentions of trauma, very brief but use of words like alcohol, blood, not proofread

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were little, I would've iced the bruises on your back."

"What's wrong with you?" Minho asked, you looked at him surprised. Nothing was wrong with you. Why would he ask that?

"Nothing's wrong with me, Why would you ask that?" you asked back, looking into his unblinking eyes. He was studying your features like a detective trying to solve a mystery and it made you somewhat nervous.

"You look like you're in pain," he stated, piercing into your eyes. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling on your chest and muster up a smile.

"Babe, what are you -" "No"

"What do you mean 'no'? I haven't even said anything yet!" you protested. Minho approached you from his seat to sit with you on the couch, where you were curled up with a blanket and some popcorns, watching 90's movies.

"You are not giving me any of your 'I'm fine, just tired' excuses, today," and before you knew it, the T.V was shut down, your blanket was snatched from you and you had Minho standing in front of you with a look you can't explain, " Tell me about yourself tonight, love. it's so unfair that we laugh together and you cry alone."

Everything was happening so quick. The rapid beating of your heart didn't help either. Your palm felt sweaty as Minho's words register inside your mind. You didn't know if you were ready to share everything with him yet. The past haunts you. It scare you. It broke you. And Minho just wanted to mend those cuts.

You tear your gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, your mind overflowing with horrible flashbacks and memories. Cuts and bruises. Blood and alcohol. You see everything you feared. Everything that broke the light within you.

Minho noticed this all. He always have. From the start. He knew there was something darker behind those shimmering gold eyes of yours. He knew you had a secret nobody cared to pry out, and he wanted to be the first one to hear it. He knew he'd love you even after hearing all the terrible things you did. He knew he'd love you even if your eyes no longer shined and sparkle the way it used to. He knew he'd love you until his last breath. Until every star of the universe died.

"Minho......... why now?" your voice sounded raw and timid, something it had never sound before. It didn't sound like the fake cheery tone you always greet everyone with. And he liked it.

"If not now, then when, love?" he repeats, looking into your eyes. Pleadingly. Desperately. Like trying to convince you that he is, in fact, trustworthy and capable of your love ,"I know you're suffering. But, don't do it alone. Let me help you. Share it with me."

"Its in the past, Min"

"Not if it still haunts you. " the silence that followed this time felt tensed and heavy, unlike the usual silence between you two. Minho took your hand and gently rubbed circles in them," you don't have to if you don't want to but I just wanted to let you know, I'm here. Whether you need me or not, and up until the last star of the universe dies, I'll be here. Right by your side."

His comforting words soothes your heart, and you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You trusted Minho. You really do. You trusted him more than yourself, in fact, you didn't know if you trusted yourself. He has been nothing but comforting and warm to you. And he loved you. That you can see in the way he holds you at night, in the way he shows his vulnerable side to you, the way he kisses you. You could feel his love in every breath of his and maybe, just maybe, you were willing to let him take care of you.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know"

Minho kissed your forehead in return, whispering, "trust me, you don't know how much I do."

You let out a sigh. Tonight, you were opening a jar you have kept away for too long. And you're scared the sharp edges might cut you again. But, this time Minho would be there to tend the wound. You knew he would. How could you forget when he reminds you everyday?

"Go ahead, baby, tell me every terrible thing you did and let me love you anyways," this time, you looked eyes with him. And you see nothing but love and adoration.

"It was my fault." you started. Minho didn't know what you meant but he knew it wasn't your fault. It never was yet you still blamed yourself and clean up someone else's mess.

He shifted in his seat and made you stand up. You looked at him confused until he open up his arms and invite you to sit on his lap," its your favorite seat, right?"

You couldn't help but smile as you settled into his lap, his arms around you and feeling safe and secure. He other hand stroked your head, soothingly playing with your hair as you told him about your biggest fears in the dim light of the night.

You told him about the household you grew up in. The heartbreak you went through. The depression that took over you. That night, you spilled your deepest secrets to Minho. Letting the words slip with no second thought. And you couldn't help yourself when he promised to love you despite all these. and you knew he wasn't lying by the way he looked at you. His eyes turning teary at your words, his fingers resting against yours would gently rub his thumb on your knuckles, calming him down. And when you were done and tears flowed from your eyes, he lets you. Rubbing your back soothingly as he whispered sweet nothings to you. But somehow, the tears felt so final for you. You felt lighter. Like a weight off your shoulder. It felt like the tears you were shedding carried the pain to be never experienced again. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you were little," he tells you, cupping your face and wiping away tears with his thumb," I would've iced the bruises on your back," And somehow, his acceptance made you more emotional, knowing that he still liked you even after all this shit. "shh.. that's enough now, baby, don't cry,he cooed, smiling at you softly. You hiccuped, grabbing onto his shirt tightly like you were scared he was gonna leave. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? i'm right here," "I'm--I'm sorry," you sniffed, wiping your tears, "i'm a mess," Minho frowned at that, making you look at him, "You're not. Even if you are, you're my mess and I'll take care of you." "It's rotten work," "Not to me," he smiled," not if its you," And something about the way he said that, it made your tears stop. When he looked at you like there was something in you worth looking at, you can't help but fall into his embrace, craving in to the desire of wanting to be taken care of for once. You rested your head against his chest and he stroked your hair, letting you listen to his heartbeat. You stayed like that for a while, calming down and listening to his breathing. Neither of you said a word, the silence loud enough that you wanted to be taken care of and Minho will gladly take up that work. "Minho?" you whispered. "Hm?" "thank you. For everything" He kissed your head, "Shh...go to sleep. I'll fight off the bad dreams when they come,"

[folklaur21]

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matters?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

[brainrotfm]

the world put you in front of me and we aligned

pairing: ryomen sukuna x reader

word count: ~1.5k

short description: the king of curses has never been asked for comfort before, but that doesn't mean he won't indulge you.

notes: no beta barely edited probably ooc; no content warnings just the fluffiest lil thing you'll ever get from me, mwah! manga credit used for header image [nsfw, 18+]!

"Tell me what you need, little one, while I still feel patient."

"Well I-I... I don't know how to ask for that," you reply sheepishly, ducking your head to hide the flush that was starting to prickle across your cheeks at your own discomfort. Two fingers caught your chin, evading your retreat into yourself, tilting doe eyes back into the intense, scarlet-hot gaze of the man towering over you still, not one to back away from an uncomfortable situation so easily.

"Use your words, brat," Sukuna purrs cheekily in return, gravelly and low but warm like molasses, trying to lure you out of whatever self-conscious spiral he was watching you fall into - it wouldn't work. Not when he was willing and able to catch you.

The way he touched you, the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you: it would sound silly if you tried to say it out loud, but there was no other word that came to mind but reverence. Utter devotion or nothing at all, there was no in between with someone like him. Were you projecting? Did the passion between you two feel too good to be true, not because of him, but because of you?

Because you couldn't handle being seen by him, could you?

It wasn't easy, but it was familiar; you didn't, couldn't, ask for help, because you didn't have the vocabulary to explain what you needed help with, exactly. No one could snap their fingers and make all your problems go away; if they could, you wouldn't ask for that, because a charmed life had no real value. And yet... no matter what you said, there was an unflappable feeling in your gut that Sukuna would scorch the earth to give you whatever you desired, the closest thing to a god you may ever see.

"I just want you to hold me," and the words sounded silly as soon as they left your mouth. He was a CURSE for god's sake, or at least, he was one. By all accounts, he was a monster, a being of the lowest morale, and there was nothing that would make him to succumb to the petty whims of the human he just so happened to have a dalliance with. A blip on his cosmic radar, a temporary satisfaction in an endless lifetime. He didn't have the time to waste, the capacity to care, the attachment to give --

Except as soon as the words left your mouth, the smallest of smirks twitched the sides of his lips. As always, you yielded when given a command, and he was always filled with a silent pride by your willingness to succumb for him. Without a word, Sukuna scooped you from the couch bridal-style, earning him a startled yip that turned his smile wider. You felt the echo of his chuckle rumble deep in his chest as he carried you into the bedroom, a protest on your lips that this isn't what you meant, not everything was a code for sex... "Sukuna, I..."

The complaint died in your throat though, not having time to manifest as you squeaked instead; Sukuna had kneed his way onto the bed, still not dropping you as he set his back against the headboard and gingerly, with all the tenderness in the world, set you down across his lap. It would've brought tears to your eyes, if you hadn't been so bewildered by this side of your lover, one who got you both off thanks to his penchant for sadism, but this time...

This time, he used his immense reach to grab the comforter, pulling it over your bodies. This time, he used the hand still wrapped around your back, propping you up, to begin tucking in the seams of the blanket, bounding you tightly against him. This time, the heat of your combined body warmth overpowered your cyclone spin of anxiety. This time, his free hand came up to cup your cheek for a moment, looking into your watery, hazy hues before placing the most delicate kiss against your forehead. This time, you would even call him chaste, not a word you ever imagined using in reference to Sukuna. This time, he looked for nothing more, wordlessly pulling your face into his chest as the arm around your back tightened its hold. This time, he really did just... just hold you.

It was too much.

By the time your cheek had pressed against heat of his skin, you were a goner. Maybe you were just that obvious - maybe he saw how pathetic and hopeless you felt, and knew that no amount of his usual teasing would cajole you out of your reverie. You're not sure he could feel sadness; you're not really sure he ever had, but you appreciated this act of softness from him. (He could, though rarely, and he did, though oftentimes only because of you, or in this case, for you). Shaking like a leaf in the wind, you curled as far into him as you possibly could, and with a heave, an onslaught of tears began to leave your body like the damn had broken at the end of a wet summer.

Where did he learn comfort like this? A large palm rested against your lower back, splayed open and anchoring you to his lap, not letting you budge an inch, even if you wanted to. His other hand had curled around the side of your neck to its nape, pressing you against him, silently insisting you stay as near to him as possible, to ride out whatever anxiety had taken you so far from him tonight. He would wait. You had only asked to be held, so he remained silently, trying not to focus on the way your pathetic little hiccups would make his heart squeeze, or why the white-hot lick of anger curled beneath his skin at seeing you in this state.

The more you succumbed to your sadness, though, the worse it seemed to get; the riptide of emotion had grabbed you by the ankle and sought to drown you in its depths tonight. Sukuna noticed immediately when your breaths had grown panicked and short, hiccups faltering into staccato sobs, and your heart began hammering out of rhythm with his own.

No, no, that would not do. You were supposed to be soothed. You couldn't see his brow furrow sullenly, confusion flickering behind maroon eyes, a sound akin to a growl unfurling in his chest. His exasperation with your befuddling human emotions was short-lived. The growing rumble in his chest had finally moored all your senses to the same shore, grounding you in tandem with the anchor points of physical touch.

Once he realized you liked it - and he should've realized you'd like it, you often enjoyed his primal sounds in other scenarios, too - well, of course he continued, your emotional fulfillment his main concern at the moment.

You must be dreaming. That was the only thought in your head as your hiccups waned into pitiful sniffles, doe eyes sore and half-lidded in the shelter of Sukuna's chest. "R-ryo...?" you managed to bleat, softer than he'd ever heard his name on your lips before, and the use of his first name had your lover purring again with a low timbre hum, giving your entire form an encouraging squeeze to signify his attention.

"Don't go... please, don't go," you whined, barely above a whisper, and something in chest shattered at your unwillingness to be without him, now that you had let him in to that tightly locked room he'd call your heart. If he had thought dominating your physical body had been pleasurable, there was an absolute intoxication that came from you being this kind of vulnerable with him; where he had always assumed he'd feel disgust, he felt a dizzying delight in pacifying you this way, still a dance of your bodies, just with different choreography than he'd ever known before.

"Oh, little one," the king of curses assuaged in a tone of equal measure, his whisper husked as he ducked to kiss your forehead again, reveling in the enchanting sigh he earned from you at such a simple affection. With that, he began to rustle you into place for sleep, more delicately than he'd ever handled you before; though, it could be noted that he was still a selfish man, and didn't give you any room to move or curl away from him, intent to keep you tucked against his chest for the rest of time if it meant witnessing you like this, at your most docile.

Your pretty face was folded into the juncture where his chest met his neck, and he could feel your breathing settle into dreamy sighs, comforted and cared for exactly the way you'd asked, so trustful that you would dare to sleep in his presence, the sweetest of lambs curled up and comfortable in the middle of the lion's den. He could kill you, right there. He would kill for you, right then.

"There is nowhere I could go that I could not take you," Sukuna promised softly into the darkness of your room, hoping you'd hear his promise in your dreams. Now that he knew this, he never wanted to know anything again.

taglist: @hercskid @sinlillith @marusatonanhin @kentohours @tzuyuswife @yuujispinkhair @luckyracco @forresway @briannafdez10 @vadersassistant @maximumcherryblossomface

disclaimer: i do not consent to my original writing being fed to ai. please do not repost/redistribute. reblogs help original writing reach a wider audience.

[harlotistic]

HELLO!!! HI!!! YOU'RE ALIVE AND WELL :3!!!

This is not-freaky-anon speaking nonsensical 0 freaky stuff again :333 (I went through the horrors this week (sudden exams, my uncle literally died???, missed exams because I attended his funeral, etc etc) I think I'm well as long as I eat fish tbh) and I've come to u to give heavenly weird girl pussy ask!! (and to ask for the l&d angsty fwb ask I sent few weeks prior teehee)

So! Imagine this; you're the widely known weird girl, all nerdy and stupidly inept at socializing, staring at two old men not thirsting over them, but rejoicing upon old man yaoi (based on the 'viva el old man yaoi' pin I got :3). Your grades are average, surprisingly you survive at sincostan, you're absolutely hellish to interact with once someone mentioned the slightest hint of your interests, and you stare at men so pervertedly from behind your book it almost feels like sexual harassment and makes boys stop harassing girls because they've been through the ringer with your stares.

You're the type of girl who daydreams at the very back of the class, music blasting off of your earbuds to the point your deskmate could hear it, Mitski and beabadobee playing while you're awake and "Yummy"/"I'll do it" by Ayesha Erotica or "Government Hooker"/"Judas" by Lady Gaga playing while you're asleep.

The LLs are freaked the FUCK out. They're especially handsome in your eyes and you constantly ship them together. Lord knows if you have a smidgen of talent in drawing you would've been rich in name and in yaoi by now..

But your pussy is so, so, tight yet soft, all gummy-like and warm and it feels like melting into a puddle of oobleck and your moans are not helping and oh my fucking god he's addicted to this weird girl's pussy—

So while you're very, abhorrently strange, they can't let go of the heavenly weird girl cunt..

YES I AM!! also my condolences man please give yourself time and hydrate and eat well. love you not freaky anon 🫶

also i see this happening with Caleb and Zayne like my beloved moot @losermuse sent me this tweet about Caleb finding mc's fics about him and Zayne and how he'd be devastated LOL!! but if it's old man yaoi...the cannonically it would be Xavier and Sylus?? hm...

fujoshi cucks unite! (2)

tw. zayne x caleb, boys kissing :o, vaginal, oral, fujoshi reader

anyway, they'd literally be rearranging your guts. one from below and the other pumping down your throat. this had to be heaven! and as you're laying there watching two of the hottest men just grunting and whimpering on top of you, you'd pull away from Zayne's cock and flutter your teary lashes at them.

"could you both...maybe...uhm...kiss each other?"

you'd ask in the sweetest breathless voice, your chest heaving as Caleb continued to rock into you. you felt him stutter to a stop, panting and looking all confused. Zayne blinked, his face red as he caught his breath.

"why don't you stop talking weird, and keep your mouth here, hm? you were doing so well..."

Zayne murmurs, cock throbbing from how you were unintentionally edging him by talking and not sucking. his hands gently tugged your hair that he was holding in a fist to guide you back towards his leaky, spit slick cock. but typical you, pouting and blinking so cutely up at Caleb because you knew just when he'd tick (when he was all pussy drunk and worshipping every intake of breath that you take).

you watched as Caleb firmly pulls Zayne closer with one hanf, smashing their lips together with a soft moan. Zayne froze up, cock hardening even more from both shock and the unexpected passion of it. their tongues slid around in each other's mouth and you could've sworn you felt Caleb popping a second wind of a stiffy deep inside you. you moaned and slid Zayne's cock back into your snug throat. you watched with inceasing arousal as the two men made out sloppily on top of you, all while thrusting in sync. like you were nothing but a shared fleshlight that with maybe a bit more effort would allow their tips to touch in the soft of your stomach.

your moans and the feel of you teetering closer to the edge went almost entirely unheard as the two continued to kiss. their drool pooling at the dip of your stomach. it was the best seat ever in your opinion. you came with a muffled moan against zayne's cock, both of them stuttering and groaning into each other's mouth as they came inside.

you slowly pulled yourself away as they continued to make out, pullinh you in for a three people kiss. your fingers reach down to your sensitive clit, rubbing it yourself since the two were too busy jerking each other off. wanting to cover your pretty pussy lips with both their cum. team effort style, or however the saying goes. no complaints of course.

after all, you were living the fujoshi cuckquean dream.

[bubblez-bubble]

Guys.

Natsu leaving Lucy with nothing but a note was way sadder than you think.

The last words Lucy ever heard from her father she didn't even actually get to hear, she read them on paper.

So imagine how devastated she was that Fairy Tail disbanded and she went home to find a note from Natsu that he was leaving without her. (Honestly I think I have that switched, please correct me if I do.)

But just like when her dad died, when Natsu left she felt like she had no one left and no home to go back to anymore, so she packed up and left for Crocus to start over.

Now I don't know if Layla got the chance to speak to Lucy with any final goodbyes before she passed, but let's believe for a moment that she didn't and that she left Lucy with a letter explaining how much her mother loved her like her father did. Yes the circumstances are different, but also bare in mind no parent wants to see their child suffer, so forcing Lucy to watch Layla die slowly and painfully probably wasn't on Laylas agenda.

So it's plausible she also left Lucy with a letter.

Which also makes her writing letters to her mom and dad after they die even sadder, even though she knows they'll never get to read them, that was the note they left her on.

So with that mind, it stands to reason that Lucy subconsciously associates receiving a letter from someone as a goodbye is a final goodbye and she'll never get to see them again.

Which could explain why she was so distressed about Natsu leaving her with a note instead of talking her face-to-face. She probably would've been more understanding and less upset about Natsus decision had he actually talked to her.

Sure there may have been a "let me come with you" back and forth, but if Natsu had told her no and explained why, she probably would've been able to let him go easier with that understanding.

But because at least one, potentially two people, had left her with no more than a letter as a final goodbye, it's possible that Natsus "harmless" note was actually extremely emotionally damaging for Lucy and maybe even traumatizing. Because people that leave her with letters are people she never gets to see or hear from again.

Now you could argue Natsu left a note and not a letter, but pen on paper is still pen on paper and words that'll never be spoken aloud.

On the flip side to this, a small part of me feels that Natsu leaving Lucy with a note was also a call back to the time Lucy left him with a note when she went to confront her father.

Except, if that's the case, it almost makes it hard to feel bad for Lucy.

In Natsus note he explained he and Happy were going away to train and even specified how long they'd be gone.

Lucy's note simply said "I will go home."

That's it.

No timeline of when or if she'll return.

No explanation why.

Nothing.

"I will go home."

Which makes Natsu and the others panicking and going to get her back make a lot of sense because that makes it sound like she's going home and staying put to protect them.

Which would've been sweet if that's what she was actually doing.

In my opinion, her note should've said something along the lines of "I'm going home to stop my father, I'll return soon." or something to that degree.

The only reason it's easier to feel bad for Lucy is because unlike Lucy who specified her location (kind of), and made it easier for them to find her (because obviously if you ask enough people about an affluent family, chances are somebody knows where they live), while Natsu gave no direction at all, just that he was leaving to train and would be back in a year.

Each of their notes complimented each other in a way, each leaving out details the other made sure to include, almost as if Natsu remembered how freaked out he was when Lucy left with a note and made sure to include the details she hadn't before, but forgetting to mention the details she did give them, or perhaps, the more likely option, he didn't quite yet know his destination because he was traveling to train and just couldn't give her one.

Which their notes being the exact opposite of each other's on almost opposite ends of the series is like their relationship itself.

Lucy, a bright, intelligent, beautiful, and emotionally fragile girl who knows who she is and where she's going in life and shes happy with it, and then there's Natsu, not exactly the smartest, canonically considered ugly (because the people of their world are fucking blind!), and very stoic and self preserved with his emotions for the most part (unless it helps him unlock some important plot device power up), he struggles with who he is or which direction his life is heading, all he knows is he needs to get stronger.

She's calm, he's impulsive.

She thinks with her head, he acts with his heart.

Even their living situations are complete opposites, which, a little psychology lesson real quick, actually reflects on their mental states. Lucy's apartment is always cleaned and organized just like her thoughts while Natsus house is cluttered and dirty like his thoughts.

These two were literally made to compliment one another, right down to how they took off with nothing but a note.

With that in mind, it's very sweet that they compliment each other so well to that degree, however it still doesn't change the fact that it's possible that to Lucy, Natsu's note felt like a final goodbye like she had received from her father and potentially (not canonically) her mother.

I know this is a little scattered but it all came back to the note in the end at least. 😅

Thanks for coming to my very scatter-brained Ted talk.

[theredcuyo]

Oh, right, the system-

So, demonic Bros au again and this time Sqq knows shit

So, the system finally, FINALLY, gave him some actual information about "Hong-er" and "A-Ying"

He wanted to spit blood, of course the little brothers of his overpowered protagonists had to also be overpowered!

First of all, the youngest one did FUCKING WHAT TO 33 GODS?!

And the other one ("Wuxian is fine, we're family now aren't we, Ge?") created fucking what and did what with corpses?!

It's fine. He can get trhu the mortification this sent his way and how he hopes they NEVER have to tell them about the whole abbys fiasco.

He can't, however, get over the fact that they're also cut-slevees, was that what the system meant by sibbling sources? Aside from the red and black clothes with ties to demonic things, they had to share this too?

It's okay, he'll get enough time to get used to it, according to the timeline provided by the system they're the first ones so-

... waiting for how many years again?!

He can't let that stand, not on his watch when he can prevent it!

Or shorten it, they both already died, didn't they? Whatever, less years is still less years!

He would've been grateful if someone had shortened his Binghe's years of grief- (He, who doesn't know Wwx already did that)

"Dage's Shizun wants to find A-Cheng's important someone too?"

"Indeed, since Wuxian was able to... find this Master, this master wondered if there was a way to also help them"

"I was already working on it, actually"

"Really?"

"Yes, his signal is kind of weird though... Something is interfiering and- Ugh- Uhhhhhg! Give me- give me a second-"

"Is... Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just- someone keeps trying to call my soul, happens from time to time, nothing to worry about, it's just annoying"

There it was, what he was waiting for! "Is that so? Would you like it to stop?"

"I would but how can it- wait-"

"This master might know a way to track down the person in question, and upon that it could be dealed with accordingly"

"... I... What is needed?"

"Just give this master your hand for a second"

Sqq succesfully bullshitted his way into making Wwx believe this after a few minutes and then left to go tell his Binghe about it

Binghe is very protective of his little brothers, so much so he insisted on going with him to meet this person, Shen Yuan knew in the bottom of his heart that he wouldn't doubt to kill if necessary, but he hoped Binghe will get along with his soon-to-be-brother-in-law

Luckly, they got there quickly with some help of teleportation arrays, also luckly the invisibility artifact they took worked nicely and covered their tracks completely

Still they were met by a rather depressing scene that pulled at Shen Yuan's heart strings, did his Binghe also have that look in his eyes?

This man, who he knew already wore white before, but looked to fit into it more than someone so young should, this man who wore a poker face but looked utterly broken and who slowly kept playing his guqin, no doubt still trying to call for Wuxian-

Binghe didn't know how to react, because he was ready to trhow hands, not to feel bad for someone who was annoying his A-Ying

Sqq, however, already knew, so with a bit of Qi he acted as though he was one of the souls answering the call "Who do you search for?"

"... Someone who's lost"

"Their name?"

"... Wei Ying"

("HE DARES CALL MY A-YING BY HIS GIVEN NAME?!"

"Binghe, this man clearly means no harm, calm down")

"... He fades into oblivion, he wishes not to remember and believes there's nothing worth to remember"

The man sighed deeply, hurt flashing before his eyes for a second, as though he had confirmed something he didn't want to, but, he seemed to accept it anyway " May he be told a message?"

"Yes"

"Jin Roulan is growing well... A-Yuan has been growing well"

Sqq felt a weird feeling upon hearing the second name, one he felt familiarly distant to now, but before he could ask for more information a little voice approached "A-di- Hanguang-Jun!"

The man bowed to "the spirit", ended the spell, and turned around, to be met with a kid, probably around Binghe's age when he entered the sect? "Sizhui"

The system informed him of the kid's identity... HE WAS AN UNCLE ALREADY? They weren't even married an already co-parented a child!

Binghe looked at him but he didn't say anything about it as they made their way back

He didn't have the kindest words about the guy, and he didn't give Shen Qinqiu enough time to find the best wording either before Wwx seemed to find something in his words

"Dage... Dage said someone dressed in white with a cloud pattern...?"

"Yes, he was-

"Playing the Guqin with a calm expression as if nothing could disturb his golden eyes"

"... A-Ying?"

Sqq sighed, maybe he was giving his brother in law a headache, but better now than later "This man said to give you a message, Wuxian, 'Jin Roulan is growing well, A-Yuan has been growing well'"

Wwx froze and stared at the both of them before collapsing

Next thing they knew, he was crying about someone still being alive

[eyelambspider]

𝟎𝟒. 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥 & 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 || 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 "𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭" 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲

Day four of Kink/Creeptober! Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ghost finally has the privilege of spending a moment alone with the sexy, insatiable captain who makes soldiers weak in the knees. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.3 k 𝐚/𝐧 : disclaimer!! maneater (the prompt I did) = a dominant woman BUT i wrote this for a gender neutral reader. If this doesn't work for my non-fem readers plz lmk ♡ + i have no explanations- 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : unestablished relationship, (oral) m!receiving, blowjobs, handjobs, softdom?reader, swearing, biting

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 '𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑', 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍. God, you were fucking sexy. An assertive, blatant captain who knew the target and always took the shot—whatever the mark.

Maybe that's part of the reason why the two of you were currently standing in the storage room, unable to tear your hands or lips off of each other.

Ghost groaned into your mouth, his hands trying to pull your hips closer with another needy growl. He was already drowning in you. The taste of your soft lips pressed against his was like heaven. His rough hands hungrily roamed down your body. Desperately grasping onto any curve or dip he could find, white-hot desire flooding through his system.

Gripping your waist, giving your hips a firm squeeze, running the expanse of his palm over your thigh. No part of your body left unknown. And he pulled you flush against him so that you could feel exactly what you were doing to him.

"Ghost," you panted, breaking away from his kiss momentarily for a much needed breath.

He kept kissing you, even as you turned your face away and laughed softly.

There was no way to stop the flames that raged through his body, buzzing with a primal need for you. He didn't know if he was pent up or turned on by you solely... but he'd never wanted anything so badly. The thought of you asking him to stop make him growl softly, and he nipped a possessive mark onto your collarbone.

An audible gasp came from your lips, a pleasant sound that made him hum against your bruising skin.

"Ghost," you stopped him with a teasing smirk. And it felt like physical loss when you pulled away from him, resting your forehead on his as you both settled down for a moment. Panting and listening to each others rapid heartbeats.

He closed his eyes, resting his hands on your hips, wanting to squeeze greedily again... but he stopped the urge and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Fuck... he knew what you were going to say.

"We can't," you explained with a shrug. It was a storage room, and if anyone found the two of you tangled up in a heated mess-

Ghost would've gladly killed the man who walked in, but of course, that wasn't a viable option for either of you.

He'd never begged, never wanted to... but god he was on the fucking verge of falling onto his knees.

Ghost willed himself to swallow hard, closing his eyes shut for another moment, still keeping your body close to his. "Alright, just- just give me a second," it was all he asked. An excuse to keep holding you next to him, at least until his raging hard-on died down a bit.

You grinned again, something he was glad he couldn't see. Watching as the man in front of you tried desperately to unravel his filthy thoughts and think of something else.

Soon, you'd both be walking around like nothing happened. He felt like he could bash someone's skull in, maybe his own when you left.

But, as he got lost in thought, trying to stray away from how soft you were against him. Your hand slithered down his vest, dipping right down to the painfully hard erection stirring in the seat of his pants.

Ghost inhaled softly through his teeth, keeping his eyes shut like a true soldier when it came to your-temptations.

He wasn't going to ignore you for long though. Teasingly, you began to stroke him through his pants. God you were fucking good at that-He shook his head, trying to banish the thought.

The perfect amount of pressure as your fingers skimmed his length, stroking him from tip to base. He groaned again, his blue eyes finally cracking open with a deep longing, unable to help but buck into your palm.

"What are you doing to me?" he murmured almost breathlessly. How did he let someone have so much power over him?

Seemed neither of you could resist one more risk.

You smiled and gave him one last kiss to his jaw, his mask only ever riding up over his mouth.

Ghost watched as you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him, gently pushing his body against the wall as you reached for his waistband. Your warm fingers unbuckling his belt with a clink made his heart race all over again. Heart beginning to pick up in rhythm from the anticipation.

He watched you with rapt attention, unable to tear his eyes off the pretty sight in front of him. His hands gently gripping your shoulders as you finally undid his pants and drug them over his thighs.

Right then and there, he decided: fuck the consequences, and may god have mercy on the poor soul who walked in on the two of you.

Next, you pulled down his boxers with a cheeky grin, finally freeing his throbbing cock. You took him into your hands, the sensation of your tongue on his sensitive tip made his thighs tense from how fucking good it felt.

"Ohh fuck, that's it," he whispered to himself, watching as you kissed the tip, collecting the salty precum with a sexy smile.

He'd beg now. God knew he'd beg.

But, he didn't have to, because you kept going. Stroking his length and lining his cock up with your mouth, sinking down as much as you could take in one go. Moaning around him as his girth stretched your pretty lips wider.

You kept that tantalizing eye contact while you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. The sounds of you struggling to take him, humming in satisfaction... God, the feeling of your velvety mouth wrapped around his cock was exactly what he needed.

He grit his teeth, watching as you greedily took his entire length into your throat. The hot tightness making him squirm for more, but you wouldn't let him. He was supposed to enjoy this.

His hands reached for your hair, tangling softly in your locks, caressing your scalp as you sucked him. Your tongue sliding on and off him at the perfect pace, saliva and precum dripping from your lips.

He wanted to thrust in deeper, to guide you with his hands, to take over his own pleasure... but you gripped his thighs in soft warning, reminding him who exactly was setting the pace. Ghost groaned. Although your nails pierced gently through his thick cargos, the subtle pain made him throb into your mouth.

All he could do was tangle his fingers in your hair and watch as you took him greedily, swirling your tongue around his tip before you sank back down to his base.

"Fuck," he panted, the air in the storage closet suddenly becoming hotter the faster you went. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, and you both moaned from how good it felt.

"Fuck," Ghost repeated, his skin suddenly flushing under his uniform from how close he was. His body suddenly beginning to tingle with raw need, trembling under your touch.

You hummed around him, glancing up at him through your soft lashes.

What a fucking pretty sight.

You watched as Ghost tried to look away, tried to hold out. His mask lifted up over his mouth, gritting his teeth to try and stop the inevitable. His chest rising and falling quickly, thighs tensing under your harsh grip, his cock throbbing in your mouth.

He couldn't take it anymore, couldn't fucking hold out. "I'm gonna cum baby" he warned with a soft hiss, gripping your hair tighter.

You moaned again around him, spit dribbling from your lips as you felt his entire body go rigid. A loud growl of satisfaction spilling out of his mouth as he finally came down your throat.

[jjjjeonww]

yoon jeonghan - "a military husband."

genre - romance, fluff >< word count - 826 ~~in which you're informed that your husband is declared dead. but is he really?? missing my love hours :<

having a military husband meant enduring prolonged separations, constantly worrying about his safety as he fiercely guarded his duties. just like now, even after expressing your concerns, jeonghan dismissed them, insisting everything was under control but he'd explain it a bit more carefully if you were still anxious about his wellbeing and him overall. what if thoughts went through your mind whenever you thought of him. what if he's unwell? what if he's hurt? what if something happened to him? what if.

it's been a few years since you've seen him, and you're now 6 months pregnant. usually even while he was in the military, he would've sent a message anytime he could. whenever he got to use his phone, he'd instantly message you. even if you were sleeping or busy doing work, he'd leave simple messages that would make your heart flutter, such as "hey love. hope you're doing well <3", "your pretty boy is missing his wife :(", "eat well jagiya~". all simple messages that would look ordinary to others, but to you? it meant the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✶.˚⟡˖ ࣪ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ just when you're about to fall asleep , a knock on the door jolts you awake. you go downstairs, hands on the railing of the stairs of your penthouse. outside there was two tall men wearing clothes just like your husband's uniform standing outside, their expressions hinting at bad news. the tension as you spoke was sharp and nerve-racking. "hello... what may i help you with?" "is this yoon jeonghan's wife?" one of the two men spoke. you nodded and it was silent for a while and you already knew whatever they were about to say, won't be pleasant. "i'm so sorry ma'am. your husband... was declared dead while training. one of the other rookies had no experience with guns and he didn't know what to do and he accidentally shot your husband. he apologises profusely. we're so sorry for your loss." the other man spoke. the two men looked sad and you could tell there was pity in their eyes as they looked at you. you felt your legs tremble, slowly feeling like you were about to collapse. dead? your husband? yoon jeonghan? the father of your child? that can't be possible...right? one of the men spoke, "he wanted you to have this..." he gave you a small box. you looked up at the man and slowly took the box from his hands and carefully opened it. there was a paper with jeonghan's handwriting inside, "look behind jagiya." you immediately obeyed your dead husband's order and looked behind, only to find nothing. just the stairwell you came from. you looked back at the two men in confusion, but there he was. your husband. yoon jeonghan. "surprise jagiya." he said with that stupid subtle smirk of his. you were too shocked to speak, jeonghan? alive? wait what? he chuckled when you noticed that you were too stunned to speak. he pulled you into his embrace and buried his face into your neck, breathing in the familiar scent and warmth. jeonghan, the man you thought was dead, was still here. healthy and alive. he's still in this world, holding you in his embrace. the two men smiled as they watched you both reunite. they were happy to see a scene like this, much better after seeing you almost collapse. jeonghan let out his 'hehehehe' when he saw your shocked expression. "it was a prank baby. a grand entrance. i came up with this when they told me i was done with my military training in 2 weeks. and 2 weeks after, which is now, i'd say it went pretty well didn't it?" and there it was. his cheeky smile that you missed so much. "the plan was to get 2 of the other military trainees to come to our penthouse and tell you that i died, and actually i was hiding right behind them. i camouflaged really good huh? and then when sunwoo here," one of the men raises up his hand then put it back down, oh so thats sunwoo. jeonghan continued explaining his 'perfect' plan, "he gave you the box and it said?" jeonghan looks at you, silently asking you to complete his sentence. you rolled your eyes while muttering, "look behind jagiya..." jeonghan smirked and nodded, "mhm, and you saw nothing when you looked behind and when you turned back to see sunwoo and keeho." then keeho raised up his hand and put it back down. "but you saw me. when you looked behind they made a space between them to let me through quickly and there i was. standing infront of you." you rolled your eyes once again. "whatever..." he only giggled and hugged you tighter before saluting to keeho and sunwoo as they saluted back and went off. jeonghan looked into your eyes, whispering, "oh i missed you so much jagiya." you smiled softly and booped your nose before whispering back, "i missed you too my angel." as he rested his forehead on yours.

[yuanology]

it struck you suddenly, swiftly, with startling clarity one night that you had never expected gojo satoru to stay, only ever hoped that he would not leave so soon.

in every scenario you crafted in your head, it always ended with gojo satoru's back turned to you— walking away at a steady pace, never once sparing you a second glance backwards. why would he? he was gojo satoru, the strongest, god amongst men.

there was no good reason for him to stay, no good reason for him to crave more. he was with you because you were a thrill, but what would happen when the evenings grew stale and you stopped being enough? what would happen on the day you have outgrown your purpose, becoming merely another faceless passerby in satoru's life? it was certainly well into the realm of possibility. satoru met brilliant people every day. it was a wonder why he had stayed with you for so long.

so, gojo satoru would leave, and you would watch him go.

but he had not left yet, and you had not needed yet to watch him go, so you dragged him by the arm and shove him onto the mattress and you did not let him go. because as long as he was here, as long as he was choosing you for whatever godforsaken reason, then you would attend to his every need— you would pick him apart, and you would fuck him, and you would love him in the ugly way that you both only ever knew how to love.

teeth clashed against teeth, nicking at tongue and lips and drawing blood. there was nothing kind about the way you were grappling for his shirt, tugging it over his head. you did not pull away, because you did not want to see the fresh scars that had appeared on your skin— the product of his saviour complex cutting it at the nick of time, just as the blows were about to meet you instead.

"you idiot," you snarled against his mouth, because you hate him and you hate him and you hate him. How could a man designed for such greatness be so much of an idiot at the same time? "i had it handled."

satoru scoffed, a sound that bled out into a gasp when your teeth sunk into his jugular. "you would've died," he snapped back, his voice breathless. his hips bucked up. "you didn't even realise it was— fuck. you didn't even realise it was there until I got it," he said. "which, you're welcome, by the way— hah, not there."

satoru broke off into a moan, head tossing back against the pillows, baring more of his throat. you were merciless, biting and dragging your mouth all over the pale skin. his arms came to wrap around you, clawing at your back until you felt your shirt strain underneath his nails. you hissed at the sensation; he dug his nails harder. bastard.

"off," satoru said, digging his fingers into the space between your shoulder blades. a moan escaped you before you could stop it. "now. i wanna see you."

"you don't get to tell me to do shit," you bit out, but you still pulled back to tug your shirt over your head. you were on him once again in an instant, canines unsheathing to bite at the corners of his mouth, leaving fresh bruises all over his mouth. satoru merely parted his lips, a loud groan escaping his lips. pain slut.

satoru tried to reach for you, but you could read his body language like the morning newspaper. before he could blink, you had him flat on his back once again on the mattress, wrists pinned on top of his head underneath your right hand. with the way you were practically straddling his chest, he had no room to move— satoru tried to buck you off, but you didn't give.

after a short struggle, satoru finally slumped, pouting at you. "come on," he whined. "just fuck me already!"

"you shouldn't have done that," you said instead, insistent and futile.

satoru looked up at you, disgruntled. "you're still on about that?" he asked incredulously. "i'm naked underneath you, all hot and bothered, and you're still thinking about that?"

"you could have died," you repeated

"but I'm not dead," replied satoru dumbly.

and fuck. well, wasn't that the fucking point that satoru wasn't getting. he wasn't dead, yes, but he could have died doing something so reckless whilst being in a position where he wasn't supposed to do anything— he wasn't supposed to get hurt, death was not supposed to linger so close to him.

before you could reprimand him, however, satoru was blinking up at you with those damnable blue eyes, doing that thing he did where he angled his head so that his eyes would look bigger; shinier with the promise of unshed tears, just as you liked it.

fuck you, you thought, even as your free hand was already migrating to rest over his collarbones, a simple threat, a quiet promise.

"come on," satoru urged you again, rolling his hips against air. "we're both fine. if anything, you should reward me for saving you. isn't that how these things work?"

you snarled at him. "i ought to fuck you until you can't walk," you bit out. "until you can't do stupid shit like that again."

satoru let out a moan, elongated and exaggerated, and you wanted to punch him in the face. "isn't that exactly what i just said?" he simpered, blue eyes blinking at you. "c'mon. fuck me already!"

fuck you.

but you had never been good at denying gojo satoru anything, even when he was being a demanding brat, so you found yourself buried balls-deep in satoru anyway— his ass high in the air and his sounds being muffled by the sheets underneath him. your hand found a grip in his hip, the other having found purchase where it's buried into the tangled locks of his hair.

your hips rammed at inhumane speed, aiming repeatedly for satoru's prostate. you didn't have the patience to toy around with him this time around. satoru wailed beneath you, and you only fucked him harder, faster, rougher, because that's what he wanted and you didn't have the self-control to drag this out any longer.

because you had always known this would not last, that gojo satoru would never stay, but there were moments like these when you would remember that there was a slim chance—a slim, you pray, you always pray, even if you don't believe in god and something greater anymore, you still always pray—that gojo satoru would not even have a chance to leave before he was taken away from you.

and he very nearly was, even if he refused to admit it.

satoru's back arched, and you knew he was close. there were tears in his eyes, dotting at warm summer skies, and you wanted to rip him to shreds because how dare he come into your life, turning everything you have ever known by its head, and then forcing himself into a state where he was destined to perpetually inevitably leave, one way or another.

"please," satoru gasped out. "w'nna cum."

"do you think you deserve it?" you asked sharply, right by his ear, even though you already know you would give it to him because he was all the more pliant after the first orgasm.

"yeah," he slurred out. his eyes were halfway rolled back into his skull, his words caught between punched out moans. "almost died for you. fuck— think i can cum now."

you scowled at him, but you bit at his shoulder all the same. satoru let out a loud whimper, hips bucking, forcing your cock deeper into him. he wasn't wrong, and that was the damn worst part. satoru did almost die for you. in a way, that was deserving of reward.

"i hate you," you told him anyway, because he knew not to take it personally when you were angry because it likely meant that you cared more than you should.

he let out a weak sound, half a whimper and half a laugh. "lemme cum," he begged. "please. 've been good."

and he had been— because he had done everything wrong, but he had also done everything right, and he was right here, he was still right here, and you could do to him whatever you wanted, and satoru had not left yet, and he had not been taken away from you.

this had to be worth something.

"fine," you bit out, and satoru let out a delighted whine.

because satoru would leave one day, and you would never have him eternally, but tonight, he came home to you, with you, and you could have him for another night, for another day. you had him. you still had him— to destroy, to control, to command, to adore.

so, when you said, "come for me, satoru." it was your name on his lips, a prayer, when he obeyed.