#in an agonizing and brutal way

[butchdykekondraki]

despite me almost exclusively using he/him for soul make no mistake that is purely bc that is souls last ditch effort to be attached to whole in some way

[chaiaurchaandni]

how do you justify shooting at patients in the icu

[dragonji]

have to be honest guys its actually going Really Badly again.

[briochebread]

(rolls up several weeks late to the meme) ok here's mine link if you want to spend way too much time making your own: https://cajunavenger.github.io/

[rueclfer]

neopet graveyard // shigaraki tomura

when you two always end up working the night shift together.

a/n: all together now! "finaaallllyyyyy" we collectively say. i love shiggy sm this fucking loser is the loml. <3

my smau warm up for this fic here too

@bbluefllame hehe

12:37 AM the buzzing analog clock sitting on the counter glared back at you. Long and slow shifts like tonight's were agonizing to get through. You may have been getting paid to sit around and flip through dusty catalogs and sort through old video game discs, but you often wondered if you'd rather be at home broke and asleep right now.

"Hey Shigs," You call out, breaking his attention away from his phone. "Tits or ass?" You hold up the vintage Playboy magazine up to his direction from across the store.

"You have neither." He replies, leaning forward and slightly squinting in your direction. "I can't see that far. What are you showing me?"

"It's a fucking porn mag, you dick." You call out, throwing a pen in his direction, letting it bounce off the glass counter beside him and landing among the cardboard boxes behind the register.

"Freak, where the fuck did you find that?" He cocks an eyebrow at you, setting his phone down.

"In bossman's desk." You shrug. "Quite a collection he's got in there, actually. Answer the question."

Tomura stops for a moment, leaning against the glass counter behind the register as he deeply thinks about his answer. Given his stoic and apathetic personality, you were half expecting him to tell you to fuck off and eat shit.

"Personality."

"Loser-" You began, getting ready to shoot him the most annoyed eye-roll you could muster.

"-And ass." He cuts you off with a smirk before returning to his phone.

You chuckle, tossing the magazine back in the desk drawer with the others before slamming it shut.

You make your way over to the opposing side of the glass counter where he stood, peering over to see him playing clash of clans on his phone.

"I'm bored. Dying of it, actually." You exacerbated, blowing a breath of air into the pale strands of hair hanging over his forehead "Put your phone away and entertain me for the last hour that we're here."

"Piss off and perish." He mutters, eyes still glued to his screen.

You pout at his coldness. You had spent the day cleaning, reshelving, wiping down any counter you could find, and now at this ungodly hour, you've been left with nothing you could possibly do except wait for the minutes to go by until the end of the shift.

"Wanna make out in the back room?" You prop your elbow on the counter and rest your head in your palm, staring up at him with a flirty smile.

His thumbs pause on his screen, eyes snapping over to meet your own, annoyance flash across them the moment he sees your cheeky grin and fake-innocent eyes staring back at him.

"What?" A faint blush dust over his cheeks as he avert his gaze from your own.

"You heard me." You playfully lean back on your heels, swinging yourself back and forth. "All this alone time, you're not itching to take my clothes off? A little fun, Shigs? Something to help you loosen up?" You inch your face closer to his.

More often than not, you ended up on the schedule with Tomura for the most brutal hours of 6:30pm-1:30am for most nights of the week. Your boss says it's to stay available for the nightcrawlers of the city, but business is always dead by 11:00pm. For those excruciatingly slow last few hours, you cherished spending them terrorizing Tomura for his flustered reactions and the amusement of annoying him.

The pink of his cheeks bloom into a bright red, causing him to hide his face in his forearm, covering it with a cough.

"Just kidding, Shigs." You lean back and playfully shoving his shoulder from across the counter. "I'm just being silly, no need to get your panties in a twist."

"I fucking hate when you do that." He runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the strands that always end up falling back in his face.

"Do what, exactly?" You cock your head to the side.

"You know what. You're worse than Dabi." He huffs. "Start doing your closing work or something if you're bored." He turns his back to you and leans back against the counter, frantically scrolling through twitter- obviously not reading any of the words on screen, but just trying to avoid you for long enough so you lose interest in bothering him.

"I finished those an hour ago." You whine. "Crazy idea, but what if we close early? There's only less than an hour left and these cameras have been out of service for the past 2 months."

He looks back at you, and takes a scan at the state of the store- cleaned, restocked, inventory logged, everything seems to be in order. It wasn't like the store's upkeep was any hard work, anyways. In fact, the owner barely ever came in and you were half sure that he used this old comics and game store for money laundering purposes.

"That might actually be the smartest thing your dumbass has said all shift."

-

The night breeze blew right through your sweater, causing a chill to crawl up your spine.

"Alright, Shiggy, I'll see you when I see you, then?" You squeak out, rubbing your arms for the heat friction.

"Hold on." He mutters, cigarette hanging from his lips as he wiggles the door to make sure it's properly locked. "I'll walk you home."

"I do this walk multiple times a week, Shigs." You smile at the sentiment. "I'll be fine. I live close by."

"I know you'll be fine. I just don't want to go back to the apartment yet. Dabi's throwing a party and I'd rather not deal with a group of drunk idiots right now." He shrugs, taking a drag of the cig before passing it over to you in which you gladly accept from his fingers, letting the intoxicating smoke warm you from the inside.

"Oh, that's right. He invited me when I saw him during the shift change." You exhale, blowing the smoke behind you, starting to lead him towards the direction of your home.

"Shouldn't we head that way, then?" He stops in his tracks.

"Well, I'd only go if you were there to keep me company, but if you're not feeling it then probably not."

"Parties aren't really my thing, but if you're there, then it'll be fine. I can tolerate it." He mutters, kicking a pebble to the side. "I can always just lock myself in my room, I'm sure they'll be too shitfaced to notice, anyways."

"What? I'd notice." You pout.

"I'll lock you in with me, duh." He coughs, hiding a smile while sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Really?"

He nods his head in response.

"Sounds like you like my company a lot more than you give off, Shigs." You smile, redirecting your walk back towards his apartment now.

"Heavy on the tolerate." He meets your eye for a moment before returning them down at his feet.

It had been an especially cold winter night. Hoodies and knitted sweaters were always a staple in Tomura's wardrobe, in any weather, but tonight he sported a dingy old leather jacket over his usual hoodie for the extra warmth. The cold air nipped the apples of his cheeks and tip of his nose into a rosy pink, and if he didn't have his hood over his head, you were sure the tip of his ears would be under the same condition.

You naturally ran hot, but your favorite part of a chilly walk home from work was the blast of warm air hitting your face and defrosting your fingertips the second you walked into your apartment- which fortunately also motivated you to get quick with your pace.

"I think Twice and Toga live this way too." You mumble, starting to recognize the surrounding structures.

"They do. We walk together if we're scheduled together, which is almost never, but a couple times a month, maybe."

"Do you ever think about quitting?" You turn to him and ask.

"Only when the general population is being extra stupid. Other than that, not really. You?"

"Sometimes. I have an existential crisis about what I'm doing with my life every now and then, but I like working with everyone."

"With everyone? You mean just me?" He chuckles, earning him a scoff from you.

"I just tolerate you, actually. I live for those 5 minutes in between shifts where I say hi and bye to my people."

You catch the end of an eye-roll.

"What do you get so existential about?"

"You know, the typical stuff every twenty-something year old goes through. Progressing in life and all that bullshit?" You sigh.

"Get specific, dumbass." He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke fog around you. "I'll grant you some of my wisdom."

"Lately, it's a lot of if my kid-self would like my adult-self, if working at the shop is just me trying to hold onto my childhood, dropping out of college, never having my first kiss, miss being taken care of, and probably a million more things." You list off, counting on your fingers.

"Damn. I'd hate to be in your brain." Tomura mutters. "Shit happens and we all die. Better to not stress about it."

"Great wisdom, dipshit." You chuckle, nudging him with your elbow.

"If it makes you feel better, I also dropped out and haven't had a first kiss."

"No education I can tell-"

He flips you off.

"-but no first kiss?" You dramatically gasps "I don't believe that. You're so cute!"

"And you're not?"

Your mouth gaped open at the subtle hit of flirtation from him. The coldness on your neck and cheeks were quickly replaced by an unfamiliar rush of heat.

"Shut up." You mutter, snapping your head forward to hide your blush. "I guess people don't like cute now-a-days."

"Guess not."

After coming up on his apartment building, you two halted to a stop. You two spent most of the walk in silent solitude, passing back and forth the same innocent subtle glances with every puff of the shared cigarette.

"You ready?" He steps out the butt of the cigarette and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Can't wait to see that crusty dusty reddit-incelified gaming set up of yours." You tease.

"Just wait 'til you see the jar." He retaliates, causing you to scowl in disgust and slapping him across the bicep.

For a second, you could almost make out the softest glimpse of a smile on his lips, but you decided to let that be something you keep to yourself, locking it away in your memories.

You follow him into the apartment complex and up the dingy and loud humming of the elevator that replaced the need for conversation. From a few steps outside of the door you could hear the trashy garage band music emitting from the inside- definitely Dabi's kind of party.

You watch Tomura fumble with his keys for a moment before swinging the door open, letting a rush of hot air mixed with the fumes of stale cigarette smoke and beer slap you in the face.

You two cram into the doorway, almost back to back as you kicked off your shoes and shed off unnecessary layers.

You take a step into the living room to see many new and familiar faces huddling in small circles around the apartment, sporting flushed cheeks and drink in hand.

"Dabi's wasted." Tomura leans down and whispers, lips lightly grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shudder up your spine. "Watch out or he might claim your first kiss. He's a stupid affectionate drunk."

Unfortunately for you, your eyes instantly caught onto Dabi's from across the room, causing him to bum rush his way over to you guys, throwing his arms around you two into a hug, crushing your body together against Tomura's.

"I told you." Tomura mouths down to you with an annoyed expression.

"Fuckers, you're late." He slurs into your shoulder. "I shoulda burnt that fucking store down to get you here earlier."

"Aren't you scheduled for the morning?" You cock an eyebrow at his drunken state.

"That's tomorrow-me's problem, sweets." He says with a lopsided grin. He grabs Tomura's head and presses a wet kiss to his temple before slapping one on your forehead. "You kids mingle and go get something go drink."

Once Dabi returns back to the party, you turn to Tomura with a laugh. After wiping off the side of his head with his sleeve, he places a hand on the back of your head, and uses his other to swipe across your forehead, wiping off the remnants of Dabi's drunken kiss.

"Fuckin' gross." He mumbles to himself.

You two spent a little less than an hour making your rounds around the party, a shot here and there when the other coworkers demanded one from you, but with the nod of his head towards the hallway, you knew his social battery had been drained.

"Handling your alcohol?" He asked, pulling you towards his room by the sleeve of your sweater, slightly stumbling over the carpet.

"Of course." You mutter. "You?"

"Couple shots got nothing on me."

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you audibly sighed from the sweet relief of a moment of silence after a full shift of the same work playlist on repeat and the party's music following you around the apartment.

"Finally." Tomura groans, reaching up behind his neck, lightly tugging on the back of his hoodie.

You took a seat on his gaming chair, hugging a knee up to your chest as your eyes scan across the walls of his room, glancing over at his various superhero posters, and bookshelf of collectables until it locked on his pale lower torso that exposed itself from his t-shirt riding up with the hoodie as he yanked it off over his head.

"Uhh." You begin, swiveling your chair around and averting your attention towards his gaming setup. "You stream? You got a webcam."

"Do you care?" You feel a hand grip the head of the gaming chair, swiveling you back around to face him, who is now leaning over you. "Thought you didn't care about all that shit."

"It's different if it's you." You smirk up at him, letting the alcohol boost your suave facade that had originally faltered upon seeing a few inches of his naked torso.

"Relentless flirt." He brings his hand down to flick your forehead before taking a seat on his unmade bed, leaning back against the headboard with his hands behind his head.

You accidentally knock the mouse cursor with your elbow, waking the monitor. Staring back at you in a bright red blocky font was 2:39AM, suddenly sobering you up.

"Oh shit, it's getting pretty late." You check your phone to confirm. "I should get going."

"Uh, isn't your apartment in the opposite direction from work?"

He only had to look you up and down one time to know that you weren't sober enough to make the walk by yourself. He wouldn't even think about letting you leave this apartment at this hour, anyways.

"Yeah? So what?" You cock an eyebrow at him.

"I mean...you think you should stay the night?" He starts, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "If you want, I don't care."

"Do you want me to stay the night?" You shoot him a daring smirk.

"Do you want to stay the night?" He retaliates.

"Sounds like you want me to. So fine, I guess, if you're begging for it."

"Fuck off and get eaten by the coyotes." He scowls in irritation, pulling his phone out to divert his attention.

You hop onto the bed next to him, catching his panicked expression the moment he realized how close you two were now. On the same bed. Alone. Along with the new question of where you would be sleeping- something that he had not thought about until now.

"C'mon Shigs! It's no fun when I'm the one that's always doing the chasing, babe. You have to want me as much as I want you, that's what makes it fun." You jokingly sigh.

"Who says I don't?"

Your eyes go wide. You were so used to him deflecting all of your useless attempts to fluster him, so you weren't sure how to handle your short circuited brain the second he finally returns the same energy.

"Uhhh. Okay, I take it back. Don't do that again." You press your lips together in defeat.

"I say four words and you start losing it?" He chuckles. "Think I got you beat at your own game."

"I guess tonight will test that, won't it?"

-

You were slowly eating your words with every second that passed. Your alcohol induced fake confidence had slowly dwindled down to nothing and now here you are sharing a bed with Tomura with your heart beating out of your chest, when you probably should've just offered to take the floor.

You two were lying on your sides facing one another with the covers pulled up to your chin. You were desperately trying to fall asleep, but you could hear his soft inhale and exhales and feel the air brushing past your cheeks as a constant reminder that he's right next to you, sharing the same bed, sharing the same air, all under the same blanket.

You slightly opened your eyes to peer through your lashes to see him wide awake and looking right at you, the back of his hand pressed against his cheek and soft eyes scanning over your face.

You open your eyes to meet his own.

"You're awake?" He whispers, slightly taken aback.

"How can I sleep when your stare is burning into my soul?" You tease. "Go to sleep, Shigs."

You never were able to get this close to Tomura without him flinching back or turning his head away to avert your gaze, but he stayed right here, letting you fully take in his presence. You almost wanted to reach your hand out and touch him, feel the softness of his cheeks, and tuck the stray hairs behind his ears.

"You don't think I'm trying?" He huff "It's fucking freezing in here. Dabi has daddy's money to always have the AC running even in the Winter."

"You should've said something earlier. We've been lying here for the past 30 fucking minutes." You start throwing apart the pillow wall that he put up between you two to prevent any 'funny business.'

"What are you doing?" He furrows his brows.

You say nothing, but instead grabbed the fabric of the t-shirt and pulled him in to close the gap between you two. His eyes widen at the sudden closeness. Your faces were mere inches away from each other, your leg shoved its way in between his, and your arm snaked its way around his waist.

"This okay?"

"A warning would've been nice." He mutters under his breath, stiffly letting his arm hang over your body, landing his hand in the middle of your back.

"I like the essence of surprise." You chuckle, looking up at him. "Better, though?"

He sighs in confirmation. "You're like a fucking furnace." He groans into your hairline.

"And you're like a popsicle."

"This would be nicer if you didn't talk."

"And this would be nicer if you'd relax and stop being so stiff." You pat the area between his shoulder blades, motioning him to let his arms loose. "I've seen you and Spinner cuddle it out on the couch in the backroom all the time, so don't act like you don't know how to do this."

"It's different." He mumble, reluctantly letting his body relax and mold against your own. "It's you."

"You dislike me that much?" You sigh, pressing your cheek against his chest, tapping your fingers against his back in content. "Do it for the purpose of survival, then."

"The opposite."

Your breathing hitches.

"Huh?" You tilt your head up to look at his face.

"Yeah." He presses his lips together, eyes darting around the room.

"You're saying 'the opposite' as in you do like me?"

"Fuck off. Don't make me say it again." His eyes finally lowered to meet yours.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Say what again? You quite literally did not say anything."

"I think this is the worst fucking time to have this conversation. Go to sleep and talk later."

"No!" You pout. "I'm not tired anymore. Let's talk now. What did you mean by that?"

A moment of silence fell between you two. With your face against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding. You suffered from the same feeling. Your throat goes dry from the anticipation of a potential confession that you'd been silently hoping for since you first met him.

"I thi-" He begins, stopping for a moment to swallow down his nerves. "So fucking awkward." He groans. "I do like you. As if it wasn't obvious, you dumbass."

"Obvious?" You scoff. "I'm obvious. Me. You on the other hand, definitely not."

"You obvious? You flirt to fuck with me."

"I flirt with you because I like you." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Also to fuck with you, but because I like you."

You two were rendered speechless as you're left to stare at each other with wide eyes, digesting this dual confession.

"So.." He begins, trailing off into nothing.

"So.. is this where we have our first kiss?" You awkwardly laugh, trying to cut through the tension.

"Are you joking?"

"Yes if you're not, but no if you are? I don't know? Not like either of us have done this before." You say through clenched teeth, cringing at yourself as your poor attempt to lighten the mood.

"Okay, then."

"Are you serious?" Your eyes widen at the sudden permission. "That easy? You're not going to tell me to fuck off?"

He disregards your hesitation and props himself on his elbow, looking down at you with a look in his eyes you've never seen before.

"On your back." He instructs.

Your body suddenly goes hot and numb as you slowly turn over onto your back, looking up at him looming over you sporting the same pair of flushed cheeks.

"This is unexpected." You whisper, balling fistfuls of the comforter in your hands. "What the hell is possessing you right now?"

"You, I think." He sheepishly smiles, cautiously bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, his cold hand absorbing your body heat. "It's what you wanted wasn't it? All those times when we're alone at the shop? Asking me to join you in the backroom? You did just say it wasn't just because you were fucking with me."

Just like that, the last 6 months of night shifts spent tormenting Tomura had come to bite you in the ass.

"Okay." You squeak out, reaching up to lay one hand over his, and the other on his shoulder. "I guess you're right. You're not freaking out, though? This is fine for you?"

"Definitely am freaking the fuck out. But I've been waiting for this, so I don't care." He mutters, running his thumb across your lower lip.

"This okay?" He mutters, inching closer to your face.

"Yeah." You whisper a moment before his lips grazes your own.

He finally closes the gap between you, letting the stray strands of his hair drape onto your face, tickling your forehead. For a second, the kiss was stiff with anxiety, but it wasn't even a second until your lips melted into each other's. It was almost suffocating- the sweet gentleness of it all.

Your hand traveled up his shoulder to the nape of his neck where you entangled your fingers in his hair, lightly tugging on the mass. His own hand made it down to your waist, flushing his palm against its curve.

When you broke apart, he collapsed on top of you, hiding his face in the crevice between your neck and shoulder before you two burst out in fits of childish giggles.

"Okay my turn. Get on your back, slut." You laugh, trying to shove him off of you.

"Hell fucking no. You want to kill me? We're done, go to sleep." He buries his face deeper into your neck, releasing a deep sigh of content. "Deal with everything else tomorrow."

"Talk tomorrow." You agree, turning over and entangling your body with his own.

You couldn't help but admire the look of his swollen-kissed lips and sleepy eyes staring back down at you. One last time before you two went off to sleep, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips before melting back into his body.

-

bonus scene:

your hands were lazily attached to one another's during another chilly quiet walk to your apartment the morning after your confessions and kiss.

"you didn't have to walk me home." you mutter, shyly peering over to him.

"i wanted to." he shrugs, tightening his grip on your hand. "the least i could do for keeping me company last night."

you hum in agreement. "no probs. thanks for letting me hang out. we should do it more often."

"the hanging out or..." he tugs down the collar of his knitted sweater to reveal an array of purple and red bruises on his collarbones and shoulder that conspired that early morning of more playful kisses and giggles.

"you see, i don't know how the hell that happened." you press your lips together, suppressing a smile. "must've been a ghost."

"must've been." he smirks, looking on ahead.

once you arrive at your door, he leans his shoulder against the wall as you dig through your bag for your keys.

"you're off tonight, yeah?"

"i am." you glance up at him before pulling out your bundle of keys. "you're kicking it with toga tonight?"

"mmhm. think i can come by after work? we're getting the new volume of terror tales tonight, so i can snatch one for you before it sells out?"

"already planning out the next time you can see me, shigs?" you smile, inserting the key into the door knob.

"i mean, i can let you scour ebay and pay triple for it too, see if i care." he rolls his eyes.

you grab the collar of his sweater and pull him in, connecting your lips for a brief moment.

"it better be in mint fucking condition." you mutter against his lips. "see you tonight."

[chaepink]

CHAEEE U TAKE JJK REQUESTS NOW??

if you do, can I request a lil smt where r punishes satoru— letting him grind on readers thigh, degrading him and touching nothing but his hips and nipples !!!! tons of begging too bc satoru is a bratty bitch 😁😁

just disregard this req if u wish!! thank u!!

Such a flirt | sub!gojo satoru

wc: 1.8k+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, marking, handjob, begging, degradation, ruined orgasm, edging, dacryphilla, thigh grinding, nipple sucking/biting

note : making gojo cry >>>

not really proofread btw

Gojo Satoru is attractive, and infuriating so. Too bad for everyone else though, since he's yours.

And you let everyone know that. With the many hickeys and marks that you leave on his neck and collarbone (and even lower on his body) along with the death glare you give to whoever is being a little too comfortable with him, people around have learned to leave alone what's not theirs.

But sometimes it seems that Gojo forgets that himself or rather purposely forgets and then goes off to flirt with someone as if he wasn't already taken. He's a brat whenever you don't pay enough attention to him so of course he's being bratty right now.

Of course, you know he's trying to rile you up every time he does it but lucky for him, you take the bait every. single. time.

So after catching him flirting with yet another one of his fans with them getting too touchy with him, you grabbed him away from them and towards your room to give him a punishment.

"fuck- p-please [name]! i'm sorryyy." Gojo's whimpers and moans are muffled by your neck as he grips your shirt for dear life.

The grip you have on his dick is brutal as you pump up and down at a slow, agonizing pace. Lewd sounds from Gojo along with the slick of your hand on his dick fill your room. You ignore the fact that they may pass through the walls, your anger making you instead focus on the brat in front of you.

You're towering above him as his back is towards the wall, the two of you on your bed. One of your hands is placed above his shoulder and on the wall behind him, giving you leverage and successfully preventing Gojo from running away from his punishment.

Well, it's not like he can run away when he's already a mess underneath you.

You whisper in his ear, his face still tucked within the side of your neck.

"You have to be quiet, Gojo." You coo at him, your pace becoming even slower if it was possible which earns you a pitiful whine from him.

"Everyone is going to hear what a fucking slut you are if you continue to let out those pornographic noises." You chuckle when he lets out a moan when you squeeze his cock.

"Unless you want that of course. You want everyone to find out how much of a whore you are, dont you?" Gojo shivers in your grasp and shakes his head frantically at the thought. But then he remembers the grip you have on his dick and that thought leaves his mind immediately.

His next words are muffled slightly but you can still hear them.

"ngh f-faster..." You furrow your eyebrows and tug his hair back to look at him using your unoccupied hand which makes Gojo let out a mewl. The small pricks of pain on his scalp, while uncomfortable, only add to the pleasure.

"I don't think you're allowed to order me around when you've been a brat today." Gojo looks up at you with flushed cheeks and tears welled up in his eyes. Even now, with his hard dick in your grasp and hair pulled back, you can't lie that Gojo looks pretty.

"tell me when you're close, alright? Don't continue to be a brat." Gojo slowly nods and it doesn't take long for him to get close to cumming, his noises getting louder which alerts you that he's close.

But brats don't get cum so when he starts pleading and begging to release, letting out little 'please!'s and "i-im close!"s, your hand releases from his red dick. Immediately, Gojo widens his eyes and looks at you but you're too focused on his dick and the way pre drips from the tip.

Once Gojo realizes what you've done, he lets out a loud wail, thrashing his arms around like a child throwing a tantrum as he sobs from the ruined orgasm. Tears streak his face as his whining turns to small sniffles and he looks at you with such a pathetic face that you wish to take a picture and save it in your camera roll.

"w-why did you s-stop!"

You give him a grin and sit down against a wall. Gojo watches as you pat your thigh and he immediately scrambles to sit there, earning him a "good boy" from you which makes him blush.

His still hard dick lays between the two of you, desperately waiting for any type of contact. He accidentally moves forward which makes his dick brush against your chest, making Gojo whimper.

His crying has stopped and he looks down at you with awaiting eyes.

You absentmindedly rub at the exposed skin at his waist, making Gojo shiver at the contrast of your cold hands to his warm skin.

"Brats don't get to cum, and you've been a brat haven't you?" Gojo avoids your stern eye contact, guilt obvious on his face.

"So," you start to say, gently grabbing his dick which makes him let out a hiss at the slight pain before you place your hands on the bed underneath you.

"if you want to cum, I better see you do so by grinding on my thigh, on your own." Gojo falters at the mention of how you won't be helping him but he quickly places his hands on your shoulders to steady himself.

'I can do it', he thinks. He can make himself cum without you touching him.

He slowly grinds down on you, letting out a shuddering gasp. His hands squeeze your shoulders as he speeds up his pace a little. Your hands go to hover over his hips, making Gojo whine. He pouts at you adorably, his face flushed.

"Put them o-on... please!..." You chuckle at his adorable beg and gently place your hands on his hips. You give it a small squeeze and Gojo quickens his pace. Who knew that your hands on his waist would turn him on so much?

His hard dick bounces up and down between you two and you glance down to take a peek at it. Pre cum drips from the red tip and you grin, knowing he won't last long without your touch.

He continues to let out little cute gasps and pathetic whimpers before wrapping his arms around your neck and burying his face against his arm. His grinding slows down and you hear him mumble out something.

"T-Touch me please, [name]." You hear him sniffle, is he crying?

You coo at him. "Aw are you that desperate for me to touch you that you're crying? You can't cum without my touch?" He nods into his arm and he lets out a muffled whimper when you squeeze his hips.

The pre cum on his dick stains your shirt and pants as it rubs against it every time he grinds on your thigh and drips down his dick but you don't pay it any attention, not when Gojo is letting out such pretty noises.

"Tell me, what do you want me to do? Look at me, darling." Gojo pulls away from his arm and you notice the tears clumping on his eyelashes.

You caress his cheek and you watch as he rubs against your hand with a pout. He looks so pretty and adorable.

"Want you to touch me, [name]." He looks at you with pleading eyes and you curse at yourself, knowing you won't be able to deny his request. He's too pretty for his own good sometimes.

"Yeah? You want me to touch you?" Your hands give his hips one last squeeze before they travel up to his nipples to ghost over them.

"Here?" He lets out a small gasp and nods.

"Pleasepleaseplease." You shush him with your finger and chuckle. "If you want me to touch you, get back to grinding on my thigh." He didn't even notice that he stopped but he quickly resumes his previous pace, speeding up even more.

Your hands ghost over his nipples once more before pinching them, eliciting a whimper from Gojo. You continue flicking and pinching them before leaning your face closer to one of them with a grin. He looks down at you with widened eyes before letting out a squeal when you take one in your mouth and begin sucking on it.

"ah! s-shit." You chuckle with his nipple still in your mouth, sending vibrations through his body. You lick the bud before teasingly biting it, Gojo's pretty noises filling the room and urging you to keep going. You switch over to the other one and do the same thing, making Gojo whine.

He glances at you, all while still riding your thigh as if his life depends on it. The bored expression on your face as you're sucking and biting his nipples knocks the breath out of his lungs. You leave a bite mark around one, making Gojo hiss at the slight pain.

You look so calm and collected while Gojo is the exact opposite, falling apart on top of you all because of your small touches. He would normally feel embarrassed but he can't right now, not when he feels so good. With a 'pop', you release his nipple from your mouth and look at how dumbed down he is, his face is all red and tears are once again flooding his eyes due to the pleasure. His nipples are red from your touches and the bite mark you left begins to turn red.

"You're such a pain slut, aren't you?" Gojo nods at you.

It doesn't take long until he feels the need to cum. He can't form the words to beg you for permission, opting to instead look at you and hoping you would see the desperation within his pretty eyes.

You smile at him and as you lean in to whisper in his ear, you squeeze both of his nipples at the same before murmuring the phrase that Gojo wants to hear.

"Go on then, cum."

Mere seconds later Gojo is screaming as he throws his head back, sobs racking his body as he shoots his cum all over his chest and on your shirt, dirtying it even more than it was before. He squeezes your shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as his orgasm floods his body.

You watch in awe as tears streak down his face and soon he buries his face into your neck, hiccuping and whimpering as he slows down his grinding. He mumbles "thank you"s over and over again until he quiets down.

You wait a few minutes for him to calm down before whispering into his ear with a smirk.

"Round two?" Gojo whines at your teasing but you feel his dick harden against your stomach and you know he wants it too.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[brairslair]

your monster trio nsfw headcanons were immaculate (seriously Zoro's was PERFECTION) could you do the same for Law and Ace?

@valkyrie-sun-walker

yes ofc! and thank youuu 💓💓 i got the 2nd req from a wonderful anon after i started writing this, so i decided to combine the two! here ya go mls :)

part 2 to this post

18+ ONLY (minors… 👉🏻🚪)

a/n: just me lusting over these men so ofc they’re all yappers, + i apologize to any usopp enjoyers for making usopp’s section a lil shorter 💌

don’t forget to like, comment, reblog, and follow to support my work!

“see what you do to me?”

law:

tough guy syndrome TM

puts on a cold front, but will wear flowers in his hair if you pick them for him

the kinda guy who can dish it out but can’t take it

in every sense

he can say the most flirtatious, descriptive, borderline pornographic shit to you with a smirk on his face

but the second you return the same attitude, he gets all flustered and fumbles over his words

he acts all dominant and in control when he’s making your eyes roll into the back of your head, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear

he takes great pride in his affect on you

“feels good, yeah?”

but when you take the reigns, he literally turns into a puddle at your fingertips

- “cat got your tongue?”

“shut up-”

clearly a switch

specifically a bratty sub + mean dom switch

so basically just a little bitch 24/7

when he’s a mean dom tho, he is a fucking mean dom

he’ll edge you until your crying from frustration, and then make you cum over and over until you lose count

“honey, are those tears? it’s just too much for you, isn’t it”

“you wanna be a good little slut for me, don’t you? then hold it.”

“count down from ten, nice and slow, and don’t you dare fucking cum until you get to one”

has a choking kink (giving and receiving)

also really likes to use toys on you, or watch you use them yourself

his favorite tho is your wand vibrator

he’ll hold it against your clit until you’ve cum so many times you’ve lost track, and you’re eyes are watering from overstimulation

or he’ll push it against you while he thrusts into you at a brutal pace, making you feel so much pleasure all at once that you see white behind your eyelids

he’s not a huge fan of pda, unless he’s jealous, and then he’s got you pressed against a wall with his tongue down your throat

if you get needy while he’s busy, he’ll make you ride his thigh

he’ll continue on with his work, acting as if you aren’t even there soaking through his jeans

his gentle hand on your hip, dick already hard against your knee, and a soft “good job, baby” when you cum are the only indicators that he was paying attention at all

get’s rly cocky when he catches u staring at his chest/back/tattoos

even worse when it’s his hands

will 100% use it against you to tease you all the time

will put his hands on your waist/thigh if he catches you looking for too long in public

then later he’ll make you come on his fingers and keep his mouth running the whole time

“bet this is what you were thinking about, huh. staring at my my fingers all day? couldn’t help it, could you?”

“oh, you can take more than that. cmon, one more”

“awh baby, i can feel you squeezin me already. you wanna cum so bad, don’t you sweetheart? not yet.”

he’ll get you right to the edge just to slow down to an agonizing pace and then make you beg him to let you cum

then he’ll have you suck his fingers clean

he’s a menace

but he’s also really good at aftercare, and will tell you how well you did and make you feel so loved and relaxed

now, as a bratty sub…

he is such a pain in the ass

he knows every way to get under your skin and get you exactly where he wants you

when you’re kissing him he’ll fight you for dominance even though he’s clearly losing

makes sassy ass comments whenever you speak just to piss you off

he could literally already be doing something but refuse if you tell him to

- “take off your pants”

“say please”

even when he admits defeat, he’ll continue to run his mouth for as long as possible before his brain turns to mush

if you use your mouth on him, it’s over

he’ll go from being a brat, to gripping the sheets in seconds

once you shut his brain off, he’s a total mess

his hands and mouth sloppy and all over you

when you ride him, he can’t take his eyes off of where your bodies meet, groaning at the wet sounds of your slick with every bounce

when he does look up at you he almost busts as soon as he sees your proud smile and blown out eyes looking down at him

his moans are loud and gravelly, and he’s desperately gripping at your hips, and whining, and cursing, and panting in your ear

the only words he seems to remember are “fuck” and your name

he loves it when your mean

- “you don’t get to touch unless you ask nicely. go on.”

“oh fuck- please”

also low key a sucker for light bondage (both ways)

acts like he doesn’t like when you mark him up because he doesn’t want other people to see, but it’s actually because every time he see’s your work on his skin he wants to pounce on you

and he can’t have that 24/7 now can he (i wish tho tbh)

will bite on your shoulder when you finally let him cum, leaving dainty little tooth shaped bruises behind like a medal

and of course, a few minutes after he comes down from his high, he goes right back to being a little shit

ace:

such a cocky motherfucker

but in a cute endearing way

also allergic to shirts apparently, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t to show off for you at least a little

but he get’s all proud when he notices you ogling him

he’d say somthing goofy like

“like what you see?”

while wiggling his eyebrows

he is a messy kisser

like super sloppy

he just can’t get over how lucky he is to even be able to have your company, or be able to touch you at all, so getting to kiss you blows his mind a little and makes it short circut

soft dommmm

ace just wants to take care of you

he loves to slowly make you fall apart over and over, being there to be your anchor

but he’s also super talkative

“that’s it, princess. keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?”

“just like that, keep going. doing such a good job”

“just a little more baby, you can take it”

loves eating you out, and he’s good at it

he likes to hold your hips down with one arm, and use his other hand to stretch you open

goes insane if you pull his hair

will put your legs over his shoulders

both a tits and ass guy

will bury his face in either and be perfectly content if he suffocates

he’s always kissing some part of you, wether its your lips, your neck, your thighs, your wrists, doesn’t matter because his mouth is on you

absolutely loves hearing your sounds, especially if you’re whimpering and whining

hearing you be so needy all for him drives him up the wall

kind of a dumbass sometimes, but can surprisingly lead to amazing sex sometimes

doesn’t realize how everyone ogles him wherever he goes

and he certainly doesn’t realize when other girls are throwing themselves at him

you know he doesn’t intentionally engage, but it’s still hard to not feel jealous watching the interactions

but when he notices you’re jealous… oh boy

he gets SO cocky (like more obnoxious than usual)

“awh, baby, are you jealous?”

“you know i only have eye’s for you”

“want me to prove it?”

and he will

he’d bring your hand to his dick, allowing you to feel how hard he is already

“see what you do to me?”

“this is all yours, baby”

“i��m alllll yours”

and then he’d proceed to fuck you until your legs are shaking, heat burning in your chest from overstimulation

but he makes sure to reassure you that he didn’t even notice the other girls intentions, because the only girl that he cares about is you <3

he’s not the jealous type himself, because he knows there’s no need to be

he trusts you, and he believes you when you tell him how much you love him

however, he does not trust other people

therefore, he is extremely protective of you

he’s honestly into pda

he just loves showing you off any chance he gets

one thing about ace is he will talk you through it

and he’ll hold your hand the whole time too

“yeahhh, there you go, princess”

“mm, there’s my girl”

“go on baby, soak me”

does the tummy push thing

also does the knee thing

goes feral if he sees you in any of his clothes

especially his hat

this is a “save a horse ride a cowboy” relationship

loves to put his weight on you, still being careful not to squish you

he just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible

and he’ll pin your hand’s above your head with one of his, interlacing your fingers

gets super giddy and proud when he fucks you dumb

“look at you, all pretty and fucked out”

“lettin me fuck you dumb, huh? lettin me fuck your brains out?”

“fuck, you can’t even think anymore, can you? feel too good to think, huh pretty girl”

he’s a biter and will sometimes leave marks, but he is not sorry

temperature play perhaps

is a fan of cockwarming

im also an avid believer in gamer bf ace

so he’ll have you just sit on his dick while he’s gaming, feeling you pulse and twitch around him in restraint

every once in a while he’d move his hips just enough to make you gasp, but then back to nothing

if you do move your hips he holds them still, reminding you of your agreement

he’ll make you sit there, almost completely still until you’re pleading and whimpering for him to let you move

“go ahead, pretty girl”

“take what you need”

he will buy you lingerie, and he will lose his mind every time he sees you in something he bought for you

face sitting enthusiast

will say “i love you” during sex at least once

will also probably quote an action movie while balls deep inside of you and completely brush past it like it was nothing

no matter what pace is set, he fucks hard

he’ll lift your legs from around his hips to push them against your chest, because the angle feels so much deeper

he’ll gradually build up speed, just to slow back down when either of you gets too close, to make it last longer

this will go on until you’re begging

“shh, hey, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you”

“just let it build with me, hm? we have all the time in the world”

“promise it’ll feel sooo good”

and when you’ve both evened out your breathing, he smothers you with affection and makes sure to take good care of you

usopp:

he’s a sub, full stop.

tried to dom at first, but it was just not natural to him at all

still will try to act all tough and in control, but he’s in the palm of your hand in seconds every time

more than willing to do anything you ask of him

gets flustered SO easily

will become a total mess from the smallest things

he gets defensive when you tease him, but he secretly really enjoys it

thigh guy

face sitting fan #2

loves kissing you and would do it all day every day if he could

any amount of pleasure you give him will turn him into a babbling mess

he’ll just say anything honestly

“hmm- feels so good”

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“can i kiss you? please let me kiss you-”

little bit of a mommy kink but embarrassed about it

suuuuper reactive

was 100% a virgin before you, so you have to help guide him in the beginning

you also help him discover what he likes and dislikes

he has a massive praise kink

“good boy” has him panting and fisting the sheets

he also really likes your hands

the way you hold his jaw so firmly when you kiss him

or gently squeeze his shaft when you tease him through his boxers

and even how you press your thumb past his lips to stifle his noises as you make him cum in your fist

his moans are whiny and a soft, getting lost in the pleasure

“ohhh- wow”

once his brain is long gone, he honestly doesn’t talk much until he’s getting close

thats when the incoherent stuttering starts back up again

“you’re so- ahh- so good at that”

“don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“i think i’m gonna… i’m cumming”

when he does cum, he’s either whining your name like a broken record, or so fucked out all he can do is pant and gasp and paw at your skin

he’s also a crier when he gets overstimulated

always polite and says thank you <3

asks are open! <3

[furuu]

hey furuu hope ur eatinfg well, ^^ if ur into angst, u should write kuna fic where the reader and him get into a fight and then later the reader ends up dying ( in his arms? yes no ? gut wrenching guilt? )

𐔌 . ⋮ The fight had been brutal. Words that couldn’t be taken back were thrown, laced with venom and spite. Sukuna’s temper flared, as it often did, and your own frustration fueled the fire. He had called you weak, insignificant—terms that stung deeply, even though you had grown used to his harshness. But this time, it cut deeper. Maybe it was the way his eyes gleamed with that predatory fury, or the way he didn't hold back, his words like jagged knives meant to wound.

"Pathetic," he spat, his towering form looming over you, four arms crossed as he glared down. "Why do you even bother staying? You think you mean something to me?"

You had looked at him then, tears welling in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. "I stay because I thought you cared," you whispered, voice barely audible, yet laced with hurt.

He scoffed, turning away, dismissing you as though your presence was nothing more than a nuisance. You left then—stormed out with a sharp inhale of breath, your heart shattered.

Hours passed, and the silence that settled in the room was heavy, suffocating. Sukuna had been pacing, fuming at the fight, yet something gnawed at him. That last look in your eyes—the way your voice trembled—something about it didn’t sit right with him. He tried to ignore it, tried to push down the strange weight in his chest.

But when Uraume appeared, pale and shaken, Sukuna knew something was wrong. They didn't even need to say anything before he felt the shift in the air, the sinking feeling deep inside him that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

“Where is she?” Sukuna growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Uraume hesitated. “She… was attacked.”

In an instant, Sukuna was gone, racing toward where they had found you. His heart pounded in his chest, dread clawing at his insides. It was an unfamiliar feeling—fear, real fear. But it was there, thick and undeniable.

And when he saw you—when he saw the blood pooling around your fragile body, the life draining from your eyes as you lay in the dirt—something inside him snapped. He was on his knees before he realized it, scooping you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a desperation that startled even him.

You blinked up at him, weak, your breath shallow and ragged. Blood coated your lips, and your body felt impossibly light in his arms. "R-Ryomen…" you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "I’m sorry…"

"Don’t you dare," he growled, his voice thick with something unfamiliar—something that felt like fear, guilt, panic. His hands, usually so strong and unyielding, trembled as he brushed your hair back from your face, his four arms wrapping around you like a shield. "This is my fault."

You tried to shake your head, but the movement was weak. "You… you didn’t mean it," you rasped, your voice breaking. "I know you didn’t."

Sukuna’s throat tightened, and for the first time in centuries, he felt tears burn at the back of his eyes. "Don’t do this," he whispered, his voice cracking, his chest heaving with the weight of it all. "Don’t leave me."

Your eyes fluttered, barely able to stay open as your fingers weakly clutched at the fabric of his robe. "I love you," you whispered, the words soft, fragile, slipping from your lips like a final breath.

Sukuna’s heart clenched painfully, his jaw tightening as he pressed his forehead against yours, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. "I love you too," he whispered, his voice so quiet, so broken, as if saying the words aloud might make them real, might make you stay. "Stay with me."

But your eyes slowly drifted closed, your body going limp in his arms as the life slipped away from you.

Sukuna roared, the sound tearing from his throat, raw and agonizing as he held you closer, as if he could somehow pull you back, as if his strength could undo the death that had taken you. His four arms tightened around you, his face twisted in anguish, the weight of his own guilt suffocating him.

He had called you weak. He had pushed you away. And now you were gone.

For the first time in his long, cursed existence, Sukuna felt powerless, the king of curses brought to his knees by the weight of his own regret.

And you were gone.

The world felt cold and hollow, and no amount of strength, no amount of rage, could fill the void that your absence left in him. The silence was deafening. The regret? Unbearable.

And all he could do was hold you in his arms, too late to take back the words, too late to save you .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[konigsblog]

toxic dadbod stepdad price who baby traps reader, saying it’s not her path to go to college and she’s to take her mothers place n do housewife stuff :3

tw/cw: stepcest, non-con, forced impregnation, forced breeding, intoxication, toxic!dadbod!price, stepfather!price, dark content, age gap/age difference.

dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

it's his duty as your stepfather to make sure you're a respectful, young woman. it's his job to shape you into the best you can be, and perhaps he's abusing his role as a father figure, but john has bigger worries than what his pathetic, whiney stepdaughter wants. :(

as you're his stepdaughter, it's your duty to obey him without question, or at least he tells you. price can smell the alcohol from your breath, the faint essence of your perfume on your neck when he licks a stripe up your face drunkenly. bottles of beer lay around, along the coffee table, whilst your thighs are forced open by his large and calloused hands, warm hands wandering between your legs and into your lace panties.

he doesn't enjoy seeing you with so much independence, and you have been giving him so much attitude lately. you never liked price, you thought he was a sickening, selfish, greedy bastard that didn't think about anyone but himself. but, your mother was happy and that was all that mattered. you just wished she paid more attention to the sexual glares he'd give you, the way his words were lustful and dirty, and how you'd have hickeys on your neck when she returned from work.

it's his duty to shape you into an obedient woman, and it seemed that the only way to do this was to show his dominance, to show you your place and where you belonged by his side. the thickness of his girthy cock was agonizing as he sunk lower, deeper into your puffy pussy. your eyes were wet and your back arched with pleasure, too drunk to realise how horrible this was — how you were being taken advantage of.

john's hung balls pressed against your ass, and the impact from them smacking against your rear with each thrust was painful. your breathing quickened as his pace became relentless, tugging at your hardened nipples while slobbering all over you drunkenly — attempting to make out with you to stifle your cries.

he felt no remorse. after all, your mother was away on a work trip, and he had nothing to use as a fleshlight. you were the next best thing, or maybe even better — being so scared causing your cunt to tighten and pulse.

he fucked his hot, potent load deeper into you. rolling over, he laid on his back, breathing heavily. he didn't have the stamina of his younger self — the stamina of someone your age. he bucked his broad hips, bouncing you up and down, the tip pressed against your cervix and bruising it. pained and dumbfounded weeps left your lips as you passed out against him, heaving and whining out.

although, the next morning, you had no recollection of the night before. you didn't notice price's perverse gaze, you didn't understand his cruel and brutal smirk, the way your body felt violated and burned whenever you touched the cigarette burns and bruises along your thighs. it didn't take very long before symptoms became obvious, and you were sobbing your eyes out, completely lost and confused.

but, you connected the dots when you saw how adamant price was for you to keep the baby... this was his plan to keep you beside him, underneath him, so you'd understand your place beside a man like him.

[lov4gor3]

A Dragon is Born

TW- childbirth, talks of death,and the stranger himself💀

RHAENYRA POV

“ ARGGH YOU CUNT “, she hears herself scream hoarsely, a sound that was came from deep within, so far yet so close. Her body burned with pain and agony, terror visible in her face as she breathes through her nose and exhales through her mouth. She swallows, terror now replaced with determination “ I will not end up like my mother “ she swallows the lump in her throat so thick as if she is choking on a rock.

Rhaenyra was incredibly nervous and terrified of giving birth, of dying like her late mother, those memories still ached into her memory forever ingrained into her mind. she wishes her mother was here to soother her, to guide her through the pain. But she is gone, of ashes and dust and she will never meet any of her grandchildren and that pains the princess deeply.

she continues to push and breathe, every breath like flames in her lungs, just like she was told and the pain…. oh the pain …… agonizing. The child bed is our battle field, her mother had one said. How Wise Queen Aemma was….. and how brutal she died.

Rhaenyra so deep in her thoughts didn’t feel the pressure between her legs,gone… empty, she opens her purple eyes, shrill screams of another…. a babe…. her babe… her firstborn.

There is still pain lingering in her body, but without a babe clawing there way out, the pain almost immediately subsided and she was grateful for it. She cries when she sees her babe, oh how beautiful her darling girl was, her babe being wrapped in a cloth and placed in her arms.

oh this feeling… this is what her mother always tried to tell her and there was nothing like it….. oh a mothers love for it is beautifully haunting. She looks down at her little one, her girl, her heir. There is a small tuft of white hair on her head and her skin is dark but a bit lighter than laenor but certainly darker than hers. This makes rhaenrya want to cry and scream with relief and accomplishment, a heir of house Velaryon and House Targaryen.

So enchanted by her babe she barely registered the midwives calling the guards to call for her husband and father. her cries have quieted down the long she feels her mothers warmth causes Rhaenyra to coo at her.

You will understand how much I love you when you have your own children, her late mother once said to her. In her younger years she scoffed at her mother claiming them to be foolish terms for she thought she would never have children, but now she understands the words of her late mother. It only took one look at her daughter to realize what she would do whatever it cost to make sure her babe was safe, unharmed, happy.

“ You little one have caused me a great deal of pain, but how can I scold you for when I’m so in love with you my darling girl. My little dragon i see it, you were born for this world to conquer it like our ancestors, to lead men into armies, to make them kneel and obey. my sweet girl you will show this world that women can be anything they put there mind to. “

Rhaenyra brings the babe to her chest cherishing this moment, peaceful and quiet, looking at the babe she carried in her belly for nine moons, so beautiful…

When she looked up she realized the sky was clear and the sun shone directly on her babe, creating an ethereal look... something inhuman... something dark....

"The Dragon has been born and they shall foresee a great prophecy in which the Prince that was promised shall fight in the war of death and darkness. For they shall bring the light-bringer and the Prince that was promised together to foresee and defeat death. For they are the most important piece in the game." whispered the stranger, looking down at the babe in the arms of her ethereal mother.

to be continued......

[prettybabybaby]

dark!ethan taking his anger out on you after the apartment killings?

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: dubcon/noncon, dark!ethan landry, fem!reader

¡ scream masterlist !

“they don’t trust me,” ethan says, jaw clenched and eyes closed. his hold on your wrist is painful, keeping your wrists pinned to the pillow beneath your head.

“e,” you whimper, tears skipping down your face, “slow down.”

his pace is brutal, fueled by the anger of being doubted. he was on edge, straight faced and tense as he pushed his way into your bedroom. you tried to be understanding, sliding into bed with him to calm and comfort him and yourself after such a traumatic night but he seemed to have other plans, none of which involved your comfort or pleasure.

he treated you like a doll, painfully shoving your thighs apart with his, pushing himself into you without the usual caring preparation. the first pumps were dry and agonizing, leaving you trembling as he persisted anyway, leaning up to dribble spit where your bodies met. you lifted your arms, trying to scoot upwards and create some sort of distance but he hadn’t let you, instead he wrapped his hands around your wrists and held them in the position they are in now.

“I’ve done nothing to deserve this,” he lightly shook his head, “nothing. fuck, you’re so tight.” he connected your lips, tongue forcing its way into your mouth, “you trust me, don’t you? you know I’d never hurt anyone, right baby?”

your glassy eyes stared up at him and you couldn’t bring yourself to agree. he pursed his lips, an extra harsh thrust taking the air from your lungs, “right?”

[luna-azzurra]

Do you have any advice for writing a fight scene? No weapons or anything, and one is a werewolf?

Thanks! xxx

sure!!!!:)

The environment is a huge part of any fight. Where the battle takes place can affect the mood and pace of the fight. If it's a forest at night, the atmosphere might be thick with tension, the shadows playing tricks on the human’s mind. Every snap of a twig could be nerve-wracking. In contrast, if it’s an abandoned warehouse or alleyway, there could be crumbling debris or walls that the werewolf could crash through with ease. Consider how the space constrains or opens up possibilities. Does the human have room to run, or are they trapped, back against the wall?

One of the most important elements of this fight is the clear imbalance between the human and the werewolf. The werewolf, being a supernatural creature, should feel like a force of nature, faster, and stronger than anything a human can easily contend with. Its movements are instinctive and powerful, maybe even graceful in their brutality. The human, on the other hand, needs to rely on their wits, speed, and survival instincts. They know they can’t overpower the werewolf, so they’re constantly looking for ways to outmaneuver it, maybe trying to use their surroundings to gain some advantage, like ducking behind obstacles or luring the werewolf into a trap.

To make the fight feel visceral, focus on the physical sensations and the toll the fight takes on both characters. For the human, every punch or kick should feel like a gamble, maybe they manage to land a blow, but it’s like striking a wall of muscle. Each missed hit could leave them open to devastating retaliation. The werewolf, meanwhile, is likely much more durable. Its claws tear through the air with deadly precision, and each swipe could mean serious injury for the human. Describe the impact of each hit. Does the werewolf's claw barely miss, ripping through the fabric of the human's shirt, leaving them gasping with adrenaline? Or does the human manage to dodge just in time, but only because they’re running on sheer instinct? Let the reader feel the weight of the werewolf’s power, how the ground shakes when it charges or how its growl reverberates in the air, sending shivers down the human’s spine.

What is the human feeling during this fight? Fear, obviously, but maybe also determination, rage, or despair. Do they think this is the end, or are they fighting for someone or something they care about? Maybe they’re not just trying to survive, maybe they’re protecting someone or trying to escape with crucial information. On the other side, consider the werewolf’s emotional state. Is it in control, methodical and cruel, or has the beast taken over, making it savage and unpredictable? If the werewolf is toying with the human, letting them think they can escape only to pull them back in, that can create an agonizing tension. Or maybe the werewolf is in a blind rage, reckless and wild, which could give the human a small opening, perhaps the only one, to escape or gain the upper hand.

What does the fight feel like? The smell of the werewolf’s fur, matted with dirt and sweat, the metallic tang of blood in the air, the sound of claws scraping across concrete or bark. What does the human hear? The werewolf’s breathing, the snarl rumbling deep in its throat, the snap of bone as it crushes something in its jaws? Describe how the human’s body responds to fear—the pounding heart, the shaking hands, the burn in their muscles as they keep running or dodging. The fight should feel exhausting, both physically and mentally.

Fight scenes need to be fast-paced, but not rushed. Keep the sentences tight and impactful. Short, sharp sentences can reflect the speed and danger of the fight, while longer ones might slow the action down in moments of brief respite, like when the human is catching their breath or assessing their next move. You don’t want to bog the reader down with too much detail at once, but you also don’t want the fight to end too quickly. Build up the tension, let the human get close to being caught, cornered, or even injured, then find a way to narrowly escape, only for the danger to come back twice as strong.

Every punch, kick, dodge, or claw swipe should have consequences. If the human lands a blow, how does the werewolf react? Does it shrug it off, or does it get angry, its aggression intensifying? Similarly, when the werewolf lands a hit, don’t be afraid to let the human suffer. Maybe they get clawed across the arm, and now they’re bleeding, one arm practically useless. Injuries should affect how they fight going forward, slower, more desperate, limping, or gasping for air. Let the reader see the human struggling, on the verge of giving up, but somehow pushing through. End the fight with a definitive moment, a final, brutal blow, a clever escape, or a narrow victory. Maybe the werewolf’s strength falters for just a second, giving the human a chance to escape, or perhaps the human collapses in exhaustion, moments before what they think will be their end.

[pretzel-box]

Hallow! I saw that you write angst for Pressure and I have an angsty request in mind (♥´∀｀)／

Can I request sebby with a reader (doesn't need to be romantic) that's another test subject like him but with the sole purpose of having rapid regeneration (can regenerate their arms or even the lower half of their body) + can't be killed with brute force.

They're relatively weak in terms of strength (like average human strength) compared to the rest of the creatures in the HB + they're clumsy and cowardly which annoys sebastian.

After being brutally 'killed' countless times by anglers, wall dwellers, accidents, or whatnot they ultimately couldn't take it anymore and breaks down with sebastian reluctantly or trying to calm them down.

Ehe that's it for the request!! If you don't accept the request it's totally fine! Either way I hope you have a great day/night (*・∀・*)Ｖ

Tags: Mention of previous deaths, anxiety attacks, comfort, Sebastian is mean, gn!reader

Words: 1,1k

Sebastian prowled the dark hallways of the facility, his senses sharp and alert. The place reeked of damp metal and fear, a maze of endless corridors and hidden dangers. This labyrinth-like part of the building was where they kept them—test subjects like him, twisted by their experiments, forced to endure unimaginable pain and suffering. Most were broken shells of who they once were, but some, like you, were still holding on, trying to survive in this nightmarish existence.

He heard a soft sound behind him—a faint, hurried shuffle of footsteps. He paused, turning his head slightly. There you were, a few paces behind him, your eyes wide and frantic as you glanced around, clearly terrified. He got you during the lockdown, not knowing what made you special till Pandemonium got you badly. Then he figured out your prized ability, turning you into a life bait for him to distract monsters.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was your clumsiness or your cowardice that annoyed him more.

“Keep up,” he growled over his shoulder, his voice a low, rumbling hiss that echoed off the cold walls. “And stop making so much noise. You’ll attract them.”

You nodded quickly, trying to step more quietly but stumbling over your own feet. You had always been clumsy, your movements awkward and hesitant. You were nothing like the other test subjects—those grotesque monsters with their freakish strength and horrifying abilities. You were just… normal. Well, except for the fact that you could regenerate almost any injury in a matter of seconds.

Sebastian watched as you tried to steady yourself, a small sigh escaping his lips. You were weak in every way that mattered here—physically frail, easily frightened. But he couldn’t deny that your ability was useful. He had seen you get torn apart by Anglers, crushed by falling debris, even once sliced in half by a ventilation blade. And every time, no matter how gruesome the sudden action was, you came back, good as new, your body knitting itself back together like nothing had happened.

But the downside was that no matter how brutal your death, no matter how agonizing the pain, you would always regenerate. Always come back, only to face it all over again.

“Sebastian, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you glanced around the dark corridor. “I… I don’t think we should go this way. I heard something. Something big.”

“Of course you did,” Sebastian muttered under his breath. He knew you were scared. You were always scared. But in this place, fear was a weakness, and weakness could get you killed. “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “Stay close, and keep quiet.”

You swallowed hard, nodding again as you followed him down the hallway, your hands trembling at your sides. Every shadow seemed to stretch and move, every distant sound a threat. You had been killed so many times now, in so many horrific ways, that the fear of dying again was starting to consume you. The pain, the terror—it was becoming too much to bear.

Sebastian could sense your growing panic, could hear your breathing quickening with each step. He clenched his jaw. He didn’t have time to babysit you. But something in him—something he couldn’t quite understand—kept him from abandoning you. Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was something else.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash up ahead, followed by a series of guttural, inhuman growls. You froze, your eyes widening in terror.

“Sebastian…” you whimpered, taking a step back. “Please… I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He turned to you, his expression hard. “You don’t have a choice,” he said bluntly. “None of us do, quit whining. Now keep moving.”

But you didn’t move. You just stood there, your whole body shaking as a certain fear paralyzed you from the very inside. And then, to his surprise, you sank to your knees, your face contorted in anguish.

“I can’t… I can’t keep doing this,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you start hyperventilating. “I’ve been… I’ve been killed so many times… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t… I can’t keep coming back, only to die again and again.”

Sebastian stared at you, his mind racing. He wasn’t good at this—at comforting people, at dealing with emotions. But seeing you like this, so broken, so utterly defeated… it stirred something in him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He knelt down beside you, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was afraid he might scare you even more. “Hey,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before. “Look at me.”

You didn’t move, didn’t even seem to hear him. You were lost in your own misery, your own despair. He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinched at his touch, but you didn’t pull away.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, his tone more gentle now, almost hesitant. “I know it feels like there’s no end to this… but you’re still here. You’re still alive. That means something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. “But what’s the point?” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “What’s the point of surviving if all I do is suffer? If all I do is die over and over again?”

Sebastian felt a pang of guilt at your words. He had been through his own share of torment, had seen things that would haunt him forever. But at least he could fight back. At least he could make them pay for what they did to him. You didn’t have that luxury. You were stuck in this endless cycle of pain and death, with no way to escape it.

He sighed, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “I don’t have the answers,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I do know this… you’re not alone. I’m here. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not if I can help it.”

You stared at him, your expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Why?” you asked softly. “Why do you care?”

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because… you remind me of something. Something I lost a long time ago.”

You didn’t know what he meant, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something raw and vulnerable—that made you believe him. Maybe he did care. Maybe, in this place of darkness and despair, you had found a glimmer of hope.

Sebastian stood up, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “We need to keep moving. But I promise… I won’t let you go through this alone.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You were still scared, still shaken, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a small spark of courage. Maybe you could keep going. Maybe you could survive this, after all.

As you walked beside him, you could feel the fear still gnawing at your insides. But with Sebastian at your side, it didn’t seem quite so overwhelming.

[innorogers]

Dusk

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Wait, WHAT? After everything you’ve been through, you thought he wasn’t serious about you? Oh no, Steve had to make sure you understood how committed he was.

Warning: Angst but then Fluff? / Sad Steve / Angry Steve / Protective Steve / Past Revelations / Hurt & Comfort / Past Trauma / Happy Ending / Comfort Steve / This one is actually funny

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening

The compound is silent, bathed in the faint silver glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. Soft lights illuminate the hallways, leading the way. Steve’s steps echo through the room as he opens the training room door.

His insomnia hits again, harder and stronger than ever before. The adrenaline runs through his veins. His mind is restless. Burning. And this time, there was no bedtime story that could soothe the pain or anger he was going through. He doesn’t bother with gloves or wraps. He’s too pissed for that, too lost in his thoughts. All he wants to do is hit something.

His fists make contact with the heavy bag, sending it swinging in response. The sound of the impact echoes in the empty room, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

The image of you, standing alone against Frazer, fists clenched, blood dripping between your fingers, glass embedded in your palms. You were fighting back so hard against the control Hydra still held over you with those damn keywords. You were panting, agonizing, trying to survive. And the only thing he could do was watch.

He hits the bag harder, faster. The chains holding it creak from the force.

You were kneeling before a laughing Agent Frazer, desperately looking for the tranquilizer and pressing it into your neck before he could stop you. Before he could do anything. 

Your body going limp in his arms, your eyes closed, and your breath going soft for what felt like an eternity as you slipped away from him.

He growls through gritted teeth, his punches landing with brutal strength.

This… horrendous lab. Children—your siblings—taken. Sacrificed. Experimented on. Killed. Their golden threads snuffed out as you hoped you were helping them. Steve’s heart clenches painfully, his vision narrowing. The memory of your voice, the anguish in it when you told him how you’d watched each of them fade, haunts him. You were forced to be part of it. They lied to you—how could they.

His punches grow more erratic, fueled by the rising storm inside him. Sweat drips from his brow, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. His knuckles split open, blood streaking the bag, but the pain barely registers. He isn’t stopping. Not until he can soothe these invisible scars in you.

Your soft voice, telling him how you watched helplessly as your siblings died around you. Your power shut down in self-defense, a last-ditch effort to survive the nightmare Hydra forced on you.

Steve clenches his jaw, his breaths coming in ragged gasps now. His fists slam against the bag like hammer strikes.

Each punch is harder, faster, more desperate. He can’t stop. He can’t fight the guilt, the rage, the sorrow. You had been through hell, and he hadn’t been there. He couldn’t protect you. He couldn’t save your siblings. He failed.

Your words, soft and kind despite everything. You caress his cheek, smiling in his arms, trying to comfort him.

"What happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

His rage peaks, spiraling out of control. He roars in frustration and punches the bag with all the strength he can muster. His fist collides with it, sending shockwaves through the air.

The bag explodes.

The canvas tears apart, sand spilling out in all directions like dust from a broken hourglass. The chains snap, and the bag slams into the floor, rolling limply as Steve stumbles back, chest heaving, fists bleeding.

He stares down at the mess he’s made, panting, his mind racing. But the anger doesn’t fade. It lingers, burning beneath his skin. Cause he knows…no matter how hard he hits, how much he punishes himself, it won’t change what happened to you.

It won’t change a fucking thing. 

Not the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most, nor the fact that he failed in the first attempt at eliminating Hydra, or the second. You only escaped because the fucking popsicle machine ran out of power. Tony and Natasha rescued you. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t even remember where the fuck he was.

He drops to his knees, fists still clenched, blood dripping onto the floor. His breathing slows, and the silence creeps back into the room.

Grateful. The word echoes in his mind, like a bitter reminder. You were so grateful, so kind. To be alive. To be here, seeing everything. You loved every breath you took, and you loved him, with every glitter of your own golden thread.

But Steve couldn’t be grateful. Not yet. Not a bit. Not with all the pain, all the suffering, you had endured. 

It’s so fucked up. It’s so wrong. It’s so terribly, terribly wrong. He couldn’t be grateful for something so broken. And he wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t stopping until he crushed the last being on this fucking earth that would hurt you like Agent Frazer. He wasn’t stopping until he’d made sure of that.

"Your girlfriend told me once that we should invent some kind of power-resistant punching bag, especially for you. At least to help with your sleeping issues when it's late, and you'd hang around the campus looking for bags to hit." A voice behind him. Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

"Then one day, she told me that you slept well every night, so maybe you didn’t need them anymore." He chuckled. "I didn’t even know where to start to ask—like, why, when, how’d she know how Steve sleeps? But I didn’t, of course, because she blushed, and I just… didn’t want to tease her."

Steve didn’t turn back. He stayed quiet for a while. "She’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t asked."

"Oh, so… she’s your ‘I’ll make all the best gear for my baby so he won’t get hurt’ genius engineer, and you’re her ‘you touch my girl, and I’ll mash you with the new shield she just made for me' kind of relationship?”

Tony nodded. "And also, you both have this ‘I’d sacrifice myself for you’ vibe that makes you a great couple. I think it’s cute, actually."

Steve sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch. "Why are you here, Tony?"

"Maybe you won’t believe it, but I’m here for a friend." Tony sighed and sat next to him, keeping a safe distance, so as not to invade his space. "Just checked on her. Vital signs are fine. Injuries are starting to heal. She’s tough, and you don’t hear it, but… this is nothing compared to how we found her."

"You’re right." Steve frowned, looking down at his knuckles, the bleeding already stopped. "I don’t want to hear it."

They sat in silence for a while until Steve shook his head with a mixture of resignation and frustration.

"Why didn’t I know?"

Tony glanced over at Steve, sympathy softening his usual sharp edges.

“How would you? She never let anyone see the cracks. And that’s something we’ve been working on for the past few years. Hiding her. Blending her in. So no one would noticed, so she could be safe.”

Tony took a breath, weighing his words carefully.

“You’ve only met her due to an unexpected, and beautiful surprise. A sleepless night, I believe?” 

Tony smiled. He pauses for a moment.“She thinks that was a gift, you know? Some kind of universe retribution for all the years of suffering and torture...and…” He patted Steve’s shoulder. “I think that too.”

“If you weren’t with her... what would have happened today?” Tony softened his voice. “If you hadn’t ended Hydra… maybe we’d never have found her, and she would have died... alone, in the dark, frozen, and without knowing that she was meant to be cherished, cared for, or loved. And…”

He glared at Steve as his expression shifted. “And no one would ever know that she even existed. Her siblings gone, all the memories about her would be…nothing, she would have been a file number. Lost within thousands of archives.”

Steve felt his whole body tense as Tony’s words landed. The mere thought of it was like a blast of icy water rushing down his spine, numbing him. A world where you were nothing but a forgotten experiment, a nameless file in some dusty Hydra archives, erased from existence. It twisted something in his chest. 

The image of you dying cold and alone in some abandoned Hydra lab. No one to mourn you, no one to even know that you were gone. No trace left behind. It clawed at him, settling like a vice around his heart, tightening with every beat.

“Stop with this self-pity and self-destruction mode, Steve.” Reading his expression, Tony knew his words had an effect. “It’s in the past. She made it, she survived, and she’s happy. Put yourself together and stop bringing it up in the present.” 

He grunted as he stood up and looked at Captain America with seriousness. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Someone out there is trying to get and hurt your girl, Cap. Are you going to let them?”

Steve looked at the silent floor and the exploded bags for a while, then nodded. “You’re damn right.” He held Tony’s hand to stand up.

“Yup, I always am.” Tony smirked at him. “Go and get some sleep because tomorrow…” He clicked his tongue. “We have a briefing meeting since Nat is going to spend the night interrogating this guys and probably... you know, just a little bit of tango. Then analysis with Hill—shit, I shouldn’t have accepted that—and we have only 1,278 security protocols to discuss if you and your ‘not-my-girlfriend’ are going public or whatever.”

“And…” Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Clean up this fucking mess, Steve, this is a 12 million training room for gods’ sake.”

Steve chuckled reluctantly. “Fine.” As he started tidying up the debris, he muttered: “This thing today, this agent, was straight after her.”

Tony was already at the door when he turned back. “Clearly. But I’m not gonna discuss this with you now at…” He looked at his watch. “3:22. My brain’s checked out. Unless it’s another half-the-universe-disappearing disaster, we’ve got this under control.”

Steve nodded, the weight of Tony's words settling into him. But it was more than that—your words still echoed louder. The reminder of how you wanted to move forward, how much you needed new memories. He knew Tony was right, but you... you were the one who truly brought him back from the edge. He inhaled deep, and started to pick up the mess he made.

“This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen…” says a cross-armed Sam, standing in front of a glass wall, observing a room filled with white lab coat experts. Led by the only two people wearing regular shirts: Tony and Bruce.

“That’s because you’re not a regular on this side of the compound.” Natasha tilts her head towards the unified silence and the steady room full of geniuses. “This is just… a normal Tuesday.”

“They haven’t moved for 15 minutes!” Sam says with an incredulous look. “You can’t tell me this is normal. Look at Bruce, he’s not even blinking.”

Both Maria and Natasha chuckled before Commander Hill explained, “Their brains are working. They’re deciphering that code.” She gestured toward the screen displaying the tangled mess of numbers and symbols. “Until they crack it, they won’t move.”

“If you turn on the neuro-transmission scan right now...” Natasha grinned, “it’s like the Fourth of July in there.”

“So, what exactly are they doing?” Sam considered turning on the scan just to see what was happening inside their heads.

“The guy that attacked us yesterday had this retinal lens used as spyware; it was transmitting everything he saw. We cracked the code and followed it to the hub where it was connected and transmitting data,” Hill finished her coffee and said, “And of course, it’s encrypted. There’s the source code…” She gestures towards the huge screen filled with numbers and letters that reads as Asgardian to Sam.

“That’s… one code?” Sam is shocked. “How’d they look if there were ten?”

“Technically… that’s one piece of the code. Not the complete…” Natasha begins to explain, then gives up. “Never mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just… asked the dude?”

“I did. And… it got messy…” Black Widow answers as she pours some coffee and hands another mug to the Commander, which she accepts gratefully.

“You killed him?! Are we allowed to do that?” Sam’s eyes widen, not entirely in disaproval.

“No! Of course not!” Natasha thinks about it for a second, then replies, “No. We can’t do that.” Although Steve would’ve loved to. She pauses. “He got, um… it looks like his brain was programmed. After he woke up, he was entirely a different person. He didn’t remember anything. He was… is, actually, Charles Frazer. A normal MI6 agent who lives in London with a beautiful family and was sent here to respect the New Era Project. He doesn’t remember anything from yesterday.”

“What?” The Falcon is stunned. “Can they do that now? Program someone’s brain?!”

“We talk to a tree that calls a raccoon his father, so…” Hill comments without taking her eyes off the screens.

“And the raccoon shoots big guns.” Natasha adds, as if that’s a valid point. “Well… the thing is, we don’t know when this programming thing happened. Has he always been like this? A spy with sleeper cells that suddenly woke up? Is he really a normal agent who underwent modification just before coming here? We’re doing a lot of background checks, but this guy is… immaculate. Clean. Like this glass.”

“That’s… even more suspicious.” Sam frowns. “But Dr. Lancaster said he looked just like her brother, and… I’ve seen the files. He does look like Four. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Probably his face was altered too. We just have to figure out when.”

“In any case, I don’t think the guy is normal.” Shaking his head, the Falcon isn’t buying it for a second. “No regular person takes a punch like that from Cap and wakes up. I thought the dude’s skull was broken.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Natasha starts typing on the screen. “I think Steve should be part of this conversation. Where is he? Making the windows foggy?”

“Unfortunately, no,” says Steve as he walks into the room, resignation in his voice, though his steps are steady and recovered. “She’s in R&D3 already. Back to work.”

He shakes his head. There was no way you’d go home and rest after being discharged, and honestly, he wasn’t comfortable leaving you alone. So, the best place for you (after promising for the 26th time you wouldn’t do any heavy work) was a lab full of people where you could put your mind elsewhere.

“As we all should.” Natasha raises an eyebrow at Steve. “No one here can afford to be a porcelain doll, y’know?” She’s not easy to break and far from being easily corrupted. She doesn’t say it, but her expression makes it clear.

“I know.” Steve nods with a serious expression. Yesterday, you had shown remarkable strength, remaining composed even when restlessness set in.

“Since we’re on the same page…” Commander Hill approaches the table and leans with a professional smile. She really doesn’t have time to waste. “We need to talk about the 1,278 security protocols that Stark wanted me to discuss with you.”

“Ugh,” Steve says with irritation. But then, this is your security they’re talking about, so he surrenders. “Fine.”

You didn’t know about the struggles Steve was going through as he listened to the extensive, detailed, laser-focused report Maria was giving him regarding ‘how many scans people had to pass just to approach you or your lab’ or ‘the perfect plan for your girlfriend to walk through the campus with you holding hands without being posted on social media’.

No, you were in another state of pink haze because the man you loved had said, “I love you.”

Ahh, the sky was blue, the clouds were like cotton candy (not that you’d know because you’d never tasted it before), your plants were growing strong, and yes, you had a terrible past. There was this guy who had leaked information to God knows who super dark organization, letting them know you were an ex-Hydra agent blended within the Avengers.

And by the way, that guy looked just like your dead brother and he tried to manipulate you through brainwashing. You had stitches in your knees and arms, and you shot yourself enough tranquilizer to kill a cow…but ha… who gives a shit, the most perfect, gorgeous man has said that he loves you. Like, priorities, right?

“Someone is in a good mood…” Your colleague slash friend Dr. Lin observed you and swirled around in the chair. “Alright, alright, so the mysterious date has become…a boyfriend?”

“Oh no, he is not…” You were caught off guard, and that made you think for a moment.

Wait…

What are the social protocols for calling Steve your boyfriend? Is that something people would assume after some steps of development in their relationship? Or was it a conclusion people would reach after certain premises: like intimacy, living in the same house, or having to face some dude who tried to brainwash you together?

Is it something that you or he would be entitled to call each other after those steps were fulfilled? And also, there’s this thing about… are you the only one? Yes, you live in a society that has historically been monogamous in most cultures. But things are different now. Polygamy is becoming more accepted. You wouldn’t like that, but of course, you couldn’t force him into that. Like, there are gorgeous women around him, that’s true…

“Honey…” Dr. Lin could see the ‘loading…’ sign on your forehead now that you were frozen in thought. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“I have some questions, Dr. Lin… no, Robert.” You put the computer in sleep mode and turned around. “Would the fact that he said ‘I love you’ make him my boyfriend?”

“Well… did he introduce you to his friends as his ‘girlfriend’?”

“Um… no.”

“Did you talk about it? Like, in which place are you standing? Or where are you heading?”

“Um…” You looked up as you remembered. “No. But we did talk about ‘making more beautiful memories’ together”.

“Oh shit.” Robert’s face shifted to ‘Gurrlllll…’ He carefully chose his words but wanted to be really clear: “And, uh… did he mention or hint that he wanted to be your boyfriend?”

“Mmm… no.” You shook your head. Not literally, at least.

“And you’re sure there’s no one else in his life?”

“Well. Yeah.” You made an obvious face. It’s not like he has the time; he is with you (or inside you) every night.

“I’m just saying…” Robert raised his hands. “There are a lot of dudes who’ll say anything to keep their bed warm.”

“Well… he is special.” You felt compelled to defend Steve. “He never lies.”

Robert almost choked. “Alright, darling… look, just make sure he’s not just banging you and planning to break your heart, okay? There are a lot of assholes out there, and trust me… you’re like a blank canvas for them, which makes you incredibly hot and attractive, but still… there are a lot of douchebags…”

“Mmm.” You were immersed in your thoughts again, analyzing what Dr. Lin had said, and as your “Loading…” sign appeared on your forehead, Robert just left you to it.

You had this way of getting so lost in your thoughts that the outside world faded away. You operated on autopilot, so you didn’t even realize how you’d gotten up at lunchtime and wandered into the common area where Steve was waiting. You didn’t notice the worried look on his face, nor the glance he exchanged with his teammates when you all sat down at the table, ready for lunch.

‘Ask her if she’s okay.’ Natasha’s eyes silently urged Steve.

‘Of course she’s not okay. After everything she’s been through.’ Steve replied with his glare.

‘Maybe she is just tired?’ Said Maria from the other corner. 

‘She does look sad…or confused.’ Observed Tony too.

‘Can you pass me the salt, please?’ Sam added to the silent conversation.

While the Avengers exchanged silent signals, you made up your mind to ask the questions that had been gnawing at you directly.

“What does it mean when people say that ‘you’re just banging me’?” You turned to Steve and asked.

Natasha spat her water out in Clint’s face, and Sam choked on a peanut.

"And I’m not against polygamy, but I think I’d be better in a monogamous relationship. If… we’re not just ‘banging.’" You nodded, speaking with honesty.

“I…” Steve tried to respond, but was interrupted by the hysterical laughter from Tony and Natasha as they rushed to save Sam from choking. (“Why would you have peanuts at lunchtime?!” Black Widow asked in a mix of laughter and disbelief.) Steve didn't know what to say, but a smile finally spread across his face as he looked at you in awe.

After the nightmare you’d all gone through yesterday, it felt like a lifetime since he’d actually smiled or felt any joy. Yet here you were, as you always are when he’s with you, with your clever, unexpected comebacks that washed away all his anger, anxiety, and rage. And your strange yet brilliant mind made him feel… so happy.

“Babe…” he chuckled, squeezing your hand and using a word he never imagined he’d use: “We’re not just banging…”

“We’re not?” You looked at him, a little confused, noticing his ears turning red. Lowering your voice, you added, “But that’s what we do every night… isn’t it?”

“OMG!” Clint stood up, covering his ears, trying not to burst out laughing. “Dr. Lancaster, may I kindly remind you this is a room full of people with extraordinary powers, including super-sensitive hearing… something we can’t exactly control?”

“Oh.” You blushed slightly, realizing how blunt you’d been, and leaned closer to Steve. “So ‘making love’ would be the right word?”

Steve chuckled as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. He squeezed your hand and smiled. “Yes, honey, that would be correct.” he said, amidst laughs and coughing.

Of course, you weren’t just banging. Steve had made up his mind to ensure you had no doubts about that. After the hilarious, "we'll talk about this for years" lunch, he gathered everything he needed to prove it to you and headed to the lab.

It was well past dinner when he arrived, and the place was empty, the only light coming from your desk. You knew he'd be late, so you waited for him to pick you up.

Leaning against the doorway, Steve watched you quietly for a moment, a soft smile forming on his face. You were completely absorbed in your work, brow furrowed in concentration. He didn’t want to interrupt, captivated by the focus you showed, his heart swelled as he took a few steps toward you.

"Hey… just… one minute…" You noticed his footsteps and quickened your typing. "I’ll wrap this up."

"There’s no rush at all." Steve sat in the chair beside you, smirking, though you didn’t notice, still immersed in your work.

"Just… borrow your hand, please?" he asked softly, knowing you were on autopilot. Without looking away from the screen, you automatically lifted your hand.

You felt something delicate wrap around your ring finger. Glancing up, you saw a slender golden thread circling it, secured by a tiny knot. Your eyes followed the thread as a delicate silver ring slid down, fitting perfectly. Startled, you looked up to see Steve raise his hand, revealing the other end of the thread tied around his own ring finger.

"What… what is this?" you asked softly, surprised.

"Well… I didn’t get the exact ‘sparkling glitter golden thread’ like you described, but… you get the idea." Steve smiled, standing up to kiss the back of your hand. "This is proof that I’m not just banging you, or…" He chuckled, "something that asks if I could bang you for the rest of our lives."

He paused, trying to remember Tony’s exact words.

"And it’s also a 'high-frequency, multi-sensorial ring capable of real-time biometric and geospatial transmission. Embedded with micro-electromechanical systems that continuously monitor and broadcast vital stats—heart rate variability, galvanic skin response, and core temperature—with GPS coordinates. Plus, a predictive analytics algorithm to interpret physiological fluctuations, allowing for real-time detection of anomalies in health and emotional state.'"

"Oh wow…" you breathed, genuinely shocked. "Did you memorize all that?"

Steve laughed and nodded. "Tony insisted you should know exactly what you were wearing."

"Awww, babe…" You couldn’t stop laughing. "This is the most romantic stalker device I've ever had."

He let out a hearty laugh and showed you his ring. "It’s connected to mine," he said, pulling you closer, his hands settling at your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours. "And I used a golden thread—the one that represents life—because you’re my life now."

"Steve…" You gently caressed his face, looking down at your hands, the rings connected by the golden thread. Really in shocked.

"And… you’re sure? Won’t people notice?"

"Trust me, I went through 1,278 protocols before deciding on this. Honestly, I made up my mind long before that. Hill said I could've spared her the torture of explaining all those, and she wanted to punch me right in the face afterward, but…" His voice softened. 

"I don’t want you living in shadows or secrets anymore. I’ll be with you, always, by your side. And…"

"And since whoever our enemy is already knows about me, they’ll think twice before coming after us, seeing that I’m with the Captain of the Avengers." You nodded.

"Yeah, that. But more importantly…" He kissed you softly after laughing. 

"Because I don’t know how to live without you. This ring… it’s just a way of showing how serious I am. How much I love you." 

He smiled suddenly, a memory flashing in his eyes. "Do you remember what you asked me the first day we met?"

"I think so…?" You hesitated, unsure which moment he was referring to. "We talked for like 10 hours that night."

"You asked me, when you added your number to my phone, 'What do you want me to be, for you?' And I answered…"

"‘My Everything,’" you whispered.

"That’s right." He sealed it with a kiss. 

"You are my everything."

You were quiet, and in awe. Just like the night you met him. For so long, you’d been searching, drifting in and out of the shadows, living in the remnants of broken fairy tales. But now, standing here with him, you realized those tales had never really been broken. They’d just been waiting — for this. 

You were no longer lost, no longer broken and sifting through the ashes of old stories. You’ve found this. Your own spectacular fairy tale, and the best part? It’s real. You had been given the right to love, to be loved, to finally be someone’s everything.

And for the first time, you truly believed it.

End

Continue to:

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

Andddd I'm sorry I'm posting so late today, but having two full time jobs is hitting really hard, will try to maintain regularity as I can. But its getting hard! Thanks for reading thus far and I hope you enjoyed the chapter, mayb posting a different story next friday ;) See you then!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim

Love.,

Moon.

[moonselune]

heyo! your writing is phenomenal and I thank you for sharing it with us!

If you're still open to prompts/requests, would you consider writing a matching piece for the Bg3 male companions reacting to no ability to revive their partner? If not, that's okay!

Thanks again for your writing and for sharing your talents!

Goddamn this hit me hard in the feels writing this x thank you so much for your support and thank you for reading it xox

Gale:

The battle had been fierce and unrelenting, the ground littered with the bodies of fallen enemies and friends alike. In the heat of the chaos, Gale had fought with all his might, casting spell after spell to protect his comrades and turn the tide of the fight. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't save you.

When the dust settled and the reality of your lifeless body sank in, Gale's heart shattered. He rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he cradled your head in his lap. Your eyes, once so full of life and love, stared blankly into the void. He could feel the warmth leaving your body, and with it, his own will to fight on.

"No, no, no… this can't be happening," Gale whispered, his voice breaking. He frantically searched his pack for a revivify scroll, but found none. The last one had been used in a previous battle, and now he was left with nothing but despair.

Desperation clawed at his mind as he looked around at the others. "We need a damned scroll, something, anything!" he shouted, his eyes wild with panic. But the somber faces of his companions told him what he already knew—they were out of options.

"I won't accept this," Gale muttered, his determination hardening. "I will find a way to bring you back. I swear it."

Despite the protests from the others, Gale refused to listen. He cast a gentle preservation spell over your body, ensuring that it would remain untouched by decay. He would find a way, to bring you back, to bring you back to him, no matter the cost.

As he carried your preserved form back to camp, his mind raced with possibilities. Ancient rituals, forgotten tomes, divine intervention—he would exhaust every option. Gale's heart ached with the loss, but his love for you fueled his resolve. He would bring you back. He had to.

Astarion:

The battlefield was eerily quiet, the sounds of clashing steel and agonized cries fading into a haunting silence. Astarion's sharp eyes scanned the aftermath, searching for any sign of you. When he finally spotted your lifeless body, his heart plummeted into an abyss of despair.

"No!" Astarion screamed, his voice echoing across the blood-soaked ground. He sprinted to your side, collapsing beside you. His hands shook as he desperately tried to find a pulse, a sign, anything that you were still with him. But there was nothing.

"Please, no… you can't leave me," he whispered, his voice choked with tears. He tore through his own pack, then yours, searching frantically for a revivify scroll. When he found none, he turned his fury on the others.

"Where is it? Where's the damned scroll?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with a mix of rage and sorrow. He tore through their packs, heedless of their attempts to stop him. "There has to be one! There has to be!"

But there was nothing. No scroll, no hope. Astarion's strength gave out, and he collapsed onto your body, sobbing uncontrollably. His tears mixed with the dirt and blood on your face as he held you close, his heart breaking with each passing moment.

"I'm so sorry… I should have protected you," he murmured between sobs, his voice filled with guilt and anguish. "I can't… I can't do this without you."

Astarion's cries echoed through the battlefield, a haunting reminder of the love and loss that war brings. In that moment, all he could do was hold you, his tears falling like rain, and call out to every god- every devil, for a miracle that would never come.

Wyll:

The battle had been brutal, the toll high, but the true cost was only just being felt. Wyll had fought valiantly, as he always did, his heart and sword guided by a desire to protect those he loved. But it hadn’t been enough. He found your lifeless body amidst the carnage, your eyes forever closed to the world.

"No… no, this can't be happening," Wyll choked out, his voice trembling with grief. He fell to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he cradled your head in his lap. Tears streamed down his face, unchecked and unstoppable, mingling with the dirt and blood on your skin.

"I should have been better," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have fought harder. This is all my fault."

Wyll's sobs grew louder, his body wracked with grief. He clung to you, his heart breaking with every passing second. The others watched, helpless and heartbroken, knowing there was nothing they could do to ease his pain.

In the back of his mind, a dark thought began to take root. What if he made another pact? What if he sought out a devil, any devil, who could bring you back? The idea terrified him, but the prospect of living without you was even more horrifying.

"I can't lose you," he murmured, his tears falling onto your still face. "I can't do this without you."

Wyll's sobs echoed across the battlefield, a haunting sound that spoke of a love lost too soon. He held you close, his mind torn between his grief and the desperate, dangerous hope that he could find a way to bring you back.

Halsin

The silence that followed the battle was deafening. Halsin stood amidst the fallen, his eyes scanning the field until they found you. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he approached your lifeless body, his expression a mask of stoic calm.

He knelt beside you, his large hands gently lifting you into his arms. The others watched in silence, their grief palpable, but it was Halsin's reaction that truly frightened them. There were no tears, no cries of anguish—just a terrifying, emotionless silence.

Halsin stood, cradling your body as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. Without a word, he turned and began walking towards the forest. The others called out to him, their voices filled with concern and confusion, but he did not respond.

He walked deeper into the forest, the shadows closing in around him. The sounds of the battle faded away, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves and the distant calls of woodland creatures. Halsin's face remained impassive, but inside, a storm of emotions raged.

He carried you to a secluded glade, a place of peace and beauty. Gently, he laid you down on a bed of moss, his hands lingering on your face as he memorized every detail.

"I have failed you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I should have protected you."

Halsin knelt beside you, his heart heavy with sorrow. He knew he would never return to the camp, never face the others again. His place was here, with you, in the quiet solitude of the forest.

Ngl when I did Halsin's all I could think about was him never being seen again and it developing into some kind of myth/legend about the druid in the woods forever mourning his beloved.

mwhahahaah

Hope you all liked it ! - Seluney xoxo

[rafesapologist]

the boy is mine ─ rafe cameron; chapter three

summary: you were an erudite kook with her life ahead of her, very highly sought after by almost every man from figure 8 all the way to the cut. but you only wanted rafe cameron, and just in the typical nature of getting everything you wanted, you were going to have him.

warnings: dr*g use, alcohol, suggestive themes

The following week at school was agonizing, brutal even. You were thrust back into the relentless rhythm of your usual routine: waking up at 6 AM, donning your stiff uniform, and enduring seven grueling hours of classes. You pushed through the school day only to return home and bury yourself in more studying. Normally, you approached this regimen with a resigned acceptance, but this week was different. This week, everything bothered you.

After the encounter at Sarah's house, you felt as though a fire had been ignited within you, a fervent flame that left you restless and craving more. The moment in the kitchen with Rafe had been electrifying, a tantalizing taste of something you had never experienced before. It was more than just a fleeting interaction; it was a revelation, a stark contrast to the monotony that had characterized your life until then. You realized you wanted more of that—more excitement, more unpredictability, more Rafe Cameron.

As you sat through each class, your mind drifted back to him, replaying every detail of your encounter. His touch, his gaze, the way he made you feel seen and alive. Each memory sent a thrill through you, making it harder to focus on the mundane tasks at hand. You found yourself staring out the window, daydreaming about what might happen next, how you could cross paths with him again, and what that might lead to.

This newfound desire clashed violently with your disciplined nature, creating an internal turmoil that you couldn't shake. The rigid structure of your life, once a source of comfort and stability, now felt suffocating. You longed for the excitement that Rafe embodied, a break from the relentless pursuit of academic excellence that your parents had drilled into you.

Every night, as you sat at your desk poring over textbooks, the thought of Rafe lingered at the edge of your consciousness, a tantalizing distraction that pulled you away from your studies. You wondered what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he ever thought about you. The questions spun through your mind, feeding the fire that had been lit within you.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were desperate for a change. The week had felt like an eternity, each day dragging on with excruciating slowness. You knew you couldn't keep going like this, caught between the expectations of your parents and your newfound yearning for something more. As you packed up your books and headed home, you resolved to find a way to see Rafe again. You needed to feel that spark, that electricity, just one more time at the least.

When you got home, you headed straight to your bedroom. Your parents, accustomed to your diligent study habits, didn't question your haste. The door clicked shut behind you, and you immediately grabbed your phone, dialing Sarah Cameron’s number. The seconds stretched painfully as it rang, your heart pounding faster with each passing moment. Finally, she answered, her voice bright and welcoming.

"Hey, Y/N!" Sarah’s chirpy tone filled the line, "What's up?"

"Sarah, hey," you responded, a smile spreading across your face. You began to pace the room, biting down on your lip, nervous but eager to ask her the question that had been burning inside you all week. "Are you doing anything tonight? We should get together and do something."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a laugh. "Funny you ask! Actually, I was just thinking about calling you. There's a bonfire on the beach tonight. Some of the guys, and Rafe, are going to be there. You in?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Rafe’s name. "Yeah, that sounds perfect," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside you. "What time?"

"Around eight," Sarah replied. "You can come over to my place first, and we can head there together."

"Great, see you then," you said, hanging up the phone. A sense of exhilaration washed over you as you looked at the clock, calculating the hours until you would see Rafe again.

You wasted no time getting ready, feeling a pressing need to outdo everyone else at the bonfire in hopes that Rafe’s attention would be solely on you. Each choice was careful and deliberate, your fingers lingering over fabrics and colors as you selected the perfect outfit. You settled on a simple sundress that hugged your figure in all the right places, its hem teasingly short, just grazing your thighs. The fabric accentuated your tan, making your skin glow with warmth.

You styled your hair into loose curls, aiming for an effortless beauty that suggested you hadn’t tried too hard, even though you had meticulously crafted every strand. Your makeup was a masterful blend of subtlety and allure, enhancing your natural features without appearing overdone. The delicate sweep of highlighter on your cheekbones caught the light just right, and the gentle curve of your eyeliner made your eyes pop, giving you an air of understated sophistication.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence. You looked good, and you knew it. There was a thrill in the anticipation, in the possibility of what the night could bring. Your mind kept drifting back to the kitchen, to the way Rafe had looked at you, his gaze lingering, intense and unspoken. You wanted more of that, more of him, and tonight felt like the perfect opportunity.

Grabbing your bag, you took one last glance in the mirror, ensuring everything was perfect. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow through your window, a promise of the night to come. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves, and headed out the door, your heart racing with excitement and the thrill of the unknown.

The drive to Sarah’s house felt like a blur, your mind occupied with thoughts of Rafe. When you arrived, the mansion stood grand and imposing, its windows reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. You hurried to the door, your steps quick and light, a smile already forming on your lips as you anticipated the evening ahead.

You knocked softly, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for someone to open the door. With your arms crossed over your chest, you stood there, full of anticipation and nerves bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. Finally, the door swung open, and you were met with the face that had been preoccupying your mind for days—Rafe.

Your heart nearly stopped, breath hitching subtly at the sight of him. His tall, intimidating stature filled the doorway, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel small and exposed. His smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he drawled, "Princeton."

The casual nickname sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of irritation and intrigue swirling within you. "Come in," he said, stepping aside with a languid grace that only heightened your awareness of him. You stepped into the house, and as the door clicked shut behind you, the air seemed to thicken with a charged anticipation.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze swept over you with a deliberate slowness, his eyes taking in every detail of your sundress, your loose curls, and the way you tried to appear effortless. His scrutiny made your skin tingle, a warm flush creeping up your neck. "Sarah said you were coming to the bonfire tonight?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, each word deliberate and drawn out.

"Uh, yeah," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "She invited me, so I thought I'd come."

Rafe's eyes narrowed slightly, the smirk never leaving his face. "Well, we're glad to have you," he said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place. "Should be a fun night."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

Rafe replied with a breathy, half-hearted laugh as he pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer to you. His presence was almost overwhelming, each movement measured and deliberate. "Yeah, me too," he said, his tongue grazing his teeth slowly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your chest.

There was a brief moment of silence between you and Rafe as he eyed you, and all you could do was stand there, engulfed in his daunting demeanor that made you feel ten times smaller under him. Your cheeks felt hot as you stood under his gaze, unsure of what to say or if you should speak at all.

Rafe's smirk deepened as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His eyes darkened, filled with an intent that made your breath hitch. He took another step closer, the space between you shrinking, his body heat radiating toward you. "Sarah's upstairs getting ready," he spoke up suddenly, his voice low and hushed, the proximity making it feel like a secret meant just for you. "I'll see you there."

You managed a nod, your throat dry. "Okay," you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

He lingered for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on yours with a look that was impossible to decipher. The silence stretched, heavy and charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. It felt as if time had slowed, every second stretching into eternity, filled with the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Finally, Rafe turned and walked away, leaving you to collect your scattered thoughts. As you stood there, your heart still pounding from the encounter, you couldn't help but replay the scene in your mind. The way he looked at you, the warmth of his breath as he spoke, the intensity of his gaze—it was all too much, yet not enough. His presence lingered in the air, like a tangible force you could still feel on your skin.

Your breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself. The realization of how deeply he affected you settled in, an exhilarating and terrifying thought all at once. Part of you wanted to run after him, to chase that feeling, while another part urged caution, knowing the danger that came with someone like Rafe Cameron.

You shook away your thoughts and headed up the stairs to Sarah's room, determined to shift your focus back to getting ready for the bonfire. The encounter with Rafe had left you rattled, but you couldn’t afford to let it dominate your mind.

As you approached Sarah’s door, you knocked softly before pushing it open, stepping inside with caution. The room was warm and inviting, the soft glow of fairy lights casting a gentle hue across the space. Sarah was seated at her vanity, her cheerful smile immediately putting you at ease. She was in the middle of her beauty routine, setting powder still dusted across her face.

"Hey!" she greeted, her enthusiasm infectious. "You can sit on my bed if you want, I'm almost ready."

You nodded, offering a small smile in return as you made your way to her neatly made bed. Sitting down, you watched as she meticulously applied her makeup, each movement precise and practiced. The scent of her perfume wafted through the air, a delicate floral fragrance that filled the room.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight," you said, settling onto Sarah's plush bed, trying to keep your voice steady. "I needed a break from all the studying."

Sarah glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Of course. We're gonna have fun tonight, I promise."

You watched as she continued applying her makeup, each brushstroke precise and practiced. The scent of her perfume filled the room, a delicate floral fragrance that mingled with the soft glow of fairy lights draped around her vanity. Her vanity table was a treasure trove of beauty products, each item meticulously arranged, reflecting her attention to detail.

"How's everything been?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "You seem a little stressed."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, the strands slipping through your fingers. "It's just been a lot lately. School, parents, you know the drill."

Sarah nodded sympathetically, her gaze softening. "Yeah, I get it. But tonight, we're forgetting all that. Just a night to relax and have some fun."

You smiled, feeling a bit lighter at her words. "Sounds like exactly what I need."

Sarah turned back to her mirror, adding the finishing touches to her look with a steady hand. "Any particular reason you were so eager for a break? Or is it just the usual?"

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe and the way his gaze had lingered on you. The memory sent a shiver down your spine. "I guess... it's just been a while since I did something for myself. Needed to remind myself there's more to life than textbooks and exams."

Sarah chuckled softly, a knowing look in her eyes. "You're right about that. And who knows, maybe tonight will be more exciting than you think."

As she finished up, she turned to you with a radiant grin. "Ready to head out?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The prospect of the bonfire, and seeing Rafe again, was both thrilling and terrifying. "Yeah, let's do this."

Once you stepped onto the scene, the bonfire was already bustling and full of life, loud music pulsing through the night air. The flames danced high into the sky, casting flickering shadows across the crowd. Part of you felt anxious, a knot of unease twisting in your stomach. This wasn’t your first party, but the large crowd and loud noises, combined with the thought of running into Rafe, made you feel somewhat sick to your stomach.

Despite the nerves gnawing at you, you put on a facade of false confidence, walking with your head held high as you and Sarah approached the throng of people. The laughter and chatter were almost overwhelming, a cacophony of voices blending with the beat of the music. You scanned the crowd intently, searching for familiar faces and, perhaps, one face in particular.

The bonfire's light flickered on everyone’s faces, giving the scene an almost surreal glow. You could see groups of friends laughing together, some couples wrapped in each other’s arms, and others dancing with abandon to the rhythm of the night. Sarah gave you an encouraging smile, her hand brushing against your arm in a gesture of support.

“Let’s grab a drink,” she suggested, leading you towards a makeshift bar set up on a long wooden table. The sight of it was a welcome distraction, a chance to steady your nerves.

You nodded, following her lead. As you walked, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rafe. The anticipation of seeing him again sent a thrill through you, despite the anxiety it also brought. The memory of his intense gaze and the subtle way he toyed with the string of your bikini was still fresh in your mind, making your cheeks warm at the thought.

At the bar, Sarah handed you a cup filled with something fruity and strong. You took a sip, the cool liquid helping to calm your racing heart. The night was still young, and you were determined to enjoy yourself, to let go of the worries and just be in the moment.

Sarah nudged you playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Feeling better?”

You laughed softly, the sound almost drowned out by the music. “Yeah, a little. Thanks.”

She raised her cup in a mock toast. “To a night of fun and no stress.”

You clinked your cup against hers, smiling genuinely this time. “To fun and no stress.”

As you took a sip, a growing crowd caught your attention from the corner of your eye, a few feet away. Intrigued, you turned your head, squinting to get a better look at whatever had captivated them. Through a small gap in the throng, you peered in, your eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the bonfire.

Your heart dropped. There he was, Rafe Cameron, sitting in a circle with his friends. The bonfire's flames cast an eerie glow, dancing shadows playing across their faces. You watched in stunned silence as Rafe leaned over, his eyes dark and intense. A line of powder lay across his lap, stark white against the fabric of his jeans. He sniffed it up quickly, then tilted his head back, a look of raw euphoria washing over his features. The sight was jarring, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something unsettling and raw.

Your jaw dropped, your body freezing as the realization hit you like a cold wave. The Rafe you had been daydreaming about, whose touch had lingered on your skin in your fantasies, was now someone else entirely in this moment. The crowd around him seemed oblivious to the impact of what you were witnessing, their laughter and conversation continuing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions crashing together. Disbelief and disappointment mingled with a lingering sense of curiosity. Was this who Rafe truly was, or just another facet of his complex persona? You felt a mix of emotions—concern for him, a touch of anger, and an unsettling intrigue.

You felt minuscule, almost insignificant, as you bore witness to the scene unfolding before you. The sight of Rafe, so absorbed in his actions, made your cheeks flush with a tumultuous mix of embarrassment and confusion. The heat crept up your face as you observed his focused expression, his eyes dark and intense, holding a mysterious allure that was both unsettling and oddly captivating. The reality of what you saw clashed harshly with the fantasy you had built in your mind, an illusion of Rafe that didn’t involve such reckless indulgence.

Rafe was a Kook, after all. You should have known better than to expect any less from a boy who lived in that world. But the Rafe you had daydreamed about, the one whose touch had sent shivers down your spine and whose gaze had made your heart race, wasn’t supposed to be tangled up in this. The stark contrast left you feeling disoriented, as if the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsure of your footing.

Sarah’s voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Everything alright?" she asked, her tone filled with concern.

You blinked, shaking your head slightly to clear the haze. "Yeah," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Just... thinking."

Sarah followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "Don't mind them," she said, a hint of exasperation coloring her words. "They always get up to stupid stuff at these things."

You nodded, though your mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn the evening had taken. Sarah’s words were meant to reassure you, but the lingering image of Rafe’s dark, intense gaze and the undeniable reality of his world clung to you like a shadow, refusing to be dispelled.

You shook off your thoughts, forcing your focus back to your conversation with Sarah. The rhythmic exchange of words and laughter served as a distraction from the chaotic whirlwind of emotions within you. The topics drifted from school to fashion, from mutual acquaintances to harmless speculations about the future. The normalcy of it all was comforting, a temporary balm to the disquiet Rafe had stirred up.

Then, a familiar voice broke through the bubble of your conversation. "Hey guys," Topper greeted, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Sarah's cheek.

"What're you two gossiping about?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"None of your business, Topper," Sarah retorted with a playful roll of her eyes, nudging him gently.

You managed a hesitant, half-hearted laugh, feeling a bit like an outsider in their easy banter. You took a nervous sip from your cup, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the anxious flutter in your chest. Your eyes roamed the crowd, searching for Rafe almost involuntarily, expecting to see him nearby.

Topper’s presence, though friendly, only served to heighten your awareness of Rafe. Your gaze flitted across the sea of faces, scanning for any sign of him. The crowd seemed to ebb and flow around you, a moving tapestry of laughter, shouts, and music, but all you could think about was where Rafe might be and whether he was watching you.

Topper continued to chat with Sarah, his voice a steady background hum. You tried to engage, to laugh at the right moments and nod along, but your mind kept drifting back to the image of Rafe, his dark eyes and the way they seemed to pierce right through you.

As if sensing your distraction, Sarah glanced at you with a knowing look. "Y/N, you good?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

"Well, we can always head back inside if you want," Sarah offered, her tone considerate.

Before you could respond, a loud burst of laughter erupted nearby, drawing your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Rafe among the group, his head thrown back in amusement, his presence commanding even in the midst of the lively crowd. He looked different, more relaxed, yet still exuding that magnetic aura that seemed to pull you in no matter how hard you tried to resist.

Your gaze met his for a fleeting moment, and he smirked, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge you. You quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks once more. The tension, the curiosity, the inexplicable draw towards him—it was all still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Sarah's voice brought you back to the present. "So, what do you think? Head inside or stay out here?"

You hesitated, the decision feeling heavier than it should. "Let's stay a bit longer," you finally said, your voice firmer than before.

Sarah nodded in response, giving you a supportive smile. As the night continued, you found yourself more intoxicated than you had anticipated. You and Sarah took shot after shot over the next few hours, and before you knew it, you were definitely drunk. A liberating sensation washed over you, a freedom you hadn't felt in your entire life, like you were floating and everything else was background noise.

The bumping music thumped in your ears as you swayed alongside Sarah, the world around you a vibrant blur of lights and laughter. You giggled at her exaggerated dance moves, the infectious joy of the moment wrapping you in its embrace. For once, you were truly having fun, and it was a feeling you wanted to hold onto forever.

You excused yourself from Sarah, telling her you were getting another drink. She waved you off with a nod, her own laughter echoing in your ears as you stumbled towards the wooden bar across the sand. The bonfire’s glow illuminated the path, casting flickering shadows that danced along with you.

The bar was a rustic setup, a makeshift oasis of alcohol and camaraderie in the midst of the beach party. You leaned against the counter, your head buzzing with the pleasant fog of intoxication. The bartender, a friendly-faced guy with a scruffy beard, raised an eyebrow in recognition and poured you another drink without needing to ask.

You took the cup, the cool liquid sloshing inside as you turned to look back at the crowd. Your eyes instinctively searched for Rafe, a part of you hoping to catch another glimpse of him, to feel that rush of adrenaline once more. The firelight cast a warm glow over everything, making the night feel almost magical, like a scene from a dream.

As you took a sip, the world spun just a bit too quickly, and you lost your balance, stumbling backward. A pair of strong hands caught you from behind, steadying you gently. Before you could respond, you turned around to see who had caught you, only to be left speechless at the familiar figure towering over you. Rafe's piercing gaze met yours, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm, grounding you in the moment.

Your breath caught in your throat, the proximity of his presence overwhelming your senses. "Y-yeah, I think so," you managed to stammer, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. You tried to regain your composure, but his intense gaze held you captive.

Rafe's hands lingered on your arms for a moment longer before he let go, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

The music and laughter from the bonfire seemed to fade into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. The warmth of his touch still tingled on your skin, and you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a magnetic attraction that you couldn't deny.

"Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I should be more careful."

Rafe chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah, maybe," he replied, his tone light yet laced with something deeper. "But where's the fun in that?"

His words lingered in the air, a challenge wrapped in a tease, and you couldn't help but smile. The night was filled with possibilities, and standing there with Rafe, you felt a thrill of excitement and anticipation.

"You enjoying the party?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation going, your voice steadying as you spoke.

Rafe's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and something more. "I am now," he said, his voice low and intimate, making your heart race. "How about you?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Yeah, it's been... interesting," you admitted, your gaze never leaving his.

He chuckled, his smirk growing as he nodded at your reply. "I see. It's a wonder you've been able to be around Sarah drunk this long," he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes sparkled with amusement, the dim light of the bonfire casting shadows on his sharp features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"She's not so bad," you said, gazing up at him, trying to keep your tone confident. "Besides, I don't think I'm much better than her right now." You let out a small laugh, picking nervously at the rim of your cup. The alcohol had given you temporary courage, but under Rafe's scrutinizing gaze, you felt the familiar flutter of nerves, like butterflies trapped in your stomach.

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes roaming over your face with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Didn't think you'd be much of a drinker, Princeton," he remarked, cocking an eyebrow with an amused glint in his eye.

"Yeah, well," you shrugged, trying to play it cool. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

He took another step closer, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air and the faint smell of the bonfire. "Is that so?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the electric pull drawing you closer.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you attempted to keep your composure. "Yeah," you managed, gulping silently and biting down on your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself against the swirling emotions inside you.

Rafe's eyes darkened suddenly, the familiar smirk plastered on his face as he took a step closer. "Well," he spoke in a low tone, his voice a teasing mockery of your earlier confidence, "I'd love to find out." The space between you seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken tension. Rafe's presence was overwhelming, his proximity sending waves of heat through your body. The flickering light from the bonfire cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "I bet there's probably a lot of things you hide under that 'good girl' act you do." His words sent a wave of heat through your body, igniting a fire that had been simmering since your first encounter. You tried to steady your breath, but the proximity of his body and the intensity in his voice made it nearly impossible.

You shook your head, feeling weaker by the minute as Rafe kept his burning gaze on you. "It's not an act..." you sheepishly tried to defend yourself, avoiding the intensity of Rafe's stare.

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I have a hard time believing that. See, I think you parade around here acting innocent and oblivious to everything, like you're only concerned with your precious scholarship and getting into some Ivy League school. But really, I bet you're begging just to be touched."

Your eyes widened at his accusation, taken aback by his statement. It was partially true; your entire personality wasn't just about school, but you surely weren't sleazy either, to be begging for attention in the way that Rafe made it sound. "No, I'm not," you protested, your voice trembling with a mix of indignation and uncertainty.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his smirk growing more pronounced. "Oh, really?" he said, taking another step closer, his presence overwhelming. "Then why do I see you looking at me like that? Why are you trembling right now?" His fingers grazed your arm, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "Admit it, Princeton. You want more than just good grades and a spotless reputation."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his words cut through your defenses. You tried to steady your breathing, to regain some semblance of control, but the intensity of the moment made it impossible. "You don't know anything about me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe's smile widened, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "Maybe not. But I'm willing to find out," he murmured, his fingers trailing up your arm to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And I think you want that too."

You felt a rush of emotions, a cocktail of fear, excitement, and desire swirling within you. The logical part of your mind screamed at you to pull away, to maintain the carefully constructed image you had built for yourself. But the pull of his presence was too strong, the allure of stepping outside the boundaries you had set for yourself too enticing.

"I..." you began, your voice faltering as you tried to form a coherent response. Rafe's eyes never left yours, his gaze unwavering and intense.

Rafe chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "That's what I thought," he repeated, his voice low and teasing. He took another casual sip of his beer, the corner of his mouth quirking up as if he found your defiance amusing. Despite the heat rising to your cheeks, you refused to back down.

"Yeah, well, you aren't so innocent either, Rafe," you retorted, folding your arms defensively. You held his gaze, your brows furrowed in determination. "I saw what you were doing earlier with your friends."

Rafe's amusement only grew at your accusation. He cocked his head slightly, his eyes flickering with mischief. "And what about it?" he countered, taking another deliberate step closer, his presence almost overwhelming. "Do you think that's anything new?"

You hesitated, feeling a pang of embarrassment at his nonchalant response. "I… I don't know, you tell me," you admitted reluctantly, your voice softer now. The tension between you was intensified, each word and gesture charged with a strange, electric energy. Rafe's gaze bore into you, assessing, as if daring you to challenge him further.

"You must not know me that well either, Princeton," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with something deeper.

You felt a pang of vulnerability as Rafe's amusement at your embarrassment sank in, making you feel smaller than ever. Frustration and annoyance simmered within you, aggravated by his clear enjoyment of the upper hand. With furrowed brows, you frowned up at him, grappling with how to counter his taunt. His chuckle, mocking yet oddly enticing, echoed in the tense space between you.

"What's wrong, baby?" His voice was laced with a teasing edge. "Nobody ever proved you wrong before?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness, the warmth from the bonfire casting flickering shadows across his face. "This is ridiculous," you protested, your words slightly slurred from the drinks swirling in your system. "I'm leaving." With unsteady steps, you turned to walk away, but his hand caught you, stopping you in your tracks. His grip on your wrist was firm yet oddly gentle, the touch sending a jolt through you.

"Wait," he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, his gaze locking onto yours.

Your heart raced as you turned back to face him, frustration evident in your expression. "What now, Rafe?" you snapped, trying unsuccessfully to free your hand from his grasp.

He held on, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place. "You can't just walk away like that," he stated firmly, the seriousness in his tone contrasting with the playful smirk that usually adorned his lips.

"Why not?" you challenged, meeting his intense gaze defiantly despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

Rafe's smirk softened, replaced by a more contemplative look. "Because," he began, his voice quieter now, "I don't want you to."

Confusion mingled with curiosity as you searched his eyes for any hint of deception. "Why?" you asked, your voice softer now, uncertain of where this conversation was headed.

Rafe's gaze held yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before a flicker of something vulnerable crossed his features. "Because," he began slowly, his voice tinged with an unexpected earnestness, "you're not so bad to talk to."

His words caught you off guard, the sincerity in his voice stirring a mix of emotions within you—surprise, uncertainty, and a hint of reluctant admiration. The usual facade of cockiness and charm seemed momentarily set aside, replaced by a genuine attempt to connect.

"I..." you started, searching for words as his gaze held yours steadily. His vulnerability felt almost disarming, a stark contrast to the confident persona he usually projected. You found yourself drawn in by the sincerity in his eyes, wondering what lay beneath his charismatic exterior.

Rafe's lips quirked in a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "I don't know why," he continued, his tone quieter now, "you just seem so… innocent." His gaze softened as he studied your reaction, as if searching for something deeper in your response.

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected vulnerability in Rafe's words. His usual charm and playfulness were nowhere to be found, replaced by a raw honesty that tugged at something inside you. His admission left you feeling exposed, as if he had seen a part of you that you kept carefully hidden from the world.

"I'm not innocent," you protested softly, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as the words left your lips, you couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to his perception of you. Maybe there was a side of you that longed for the simplicity and purity of innocence, untouched by the complexities of the world.

Rafe's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he spoke again, his voice low and almost hesitant.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," he said, his tone earnest. "It's... refreshing, in a way. To see someone who still believes in the goodness of the world, despite everything." He shifted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I envy that innocence," he confessed quietly, a vulnerability shining through that you had never seen before.

A rush of empathy washed over you as you listened to him speak, realizing that perhaps Rafe's carefully crafted facade was not as impenetrable as it seemed. It was a moment of unexpected intimacy between the two of you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"I think there's more to you than meets the eye too, Rafe," you said softly, surprised by your own admission. It was a risky gamble, laying bare your thoughts and feelings in such a way, but somehow it felt right in that moment, as if honesty was the only currency that mattered between you and Rafe. He seemed taken aback by your words, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his features before his usual mask slipped back into place.

"You're perceptive," he murmured, his voice tinged with something you couldn't quite place.

A small smile played on your lips as you watched the subtle shift in Rafe's demeanor, a crack forming in the armor he usually wore so effortlessly. It was a rare sight to witness him letting down his guard, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to this glimpse of the real Rafe hidden beneath the facade.

Suddenly, a distant sound broke the spell that had enveloped the two of you, causing Rafe to straighten up and glance around warily. The moment had passed, but its impact lingered in the air like a promise of things yet to come.

"We should go," Rafe said abruptly, his voice brisk as he turned away from you.

You followed Rafe through the bustling crowd, your thoughts a whirlwind of the unexpected conversation. As you neared the bonfire, the familiar sound of Sarah’s laughter reached your ears. She spotted you and waved, making her way over with an excited grin.

“There you are!” Sarah exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Where have you been? I was starting to think you’d ditched me for someone more interesting.”

You forced a smile, trying to brush off the intensity of your recent interaction with Rafe. “Oh, just wandering around,” you replied nonchalantly. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit tired. Do you mind if we head out?”

Sarah’s smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of concern. “Are you okay? You look a little out of it.”

“I’m fine,” you assured her, your voice steady. “Just had a bit too much excitement for one night.”

Sarah studied you for a moment before nodding. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll get Topper to drive us.” She glanced around, spotting her boyfriend nearby and motioning for him to join you.

As you waited for Topper, you stole a glance back at the bonfire. Rafe was still there, his figure illuminated by the flickering flames. For a brief second, his eyes met yours across the distance, and a silent understanding passed between you. There was more to uncover, more to understand about each other, but tonight wasn’t the night for it.

Topper pulled up in his car, and you climbed into the backseat with Sarah, who gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow,” she said, squeezing your hand. “But for now, let’s get you home.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

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