#is it really a oneshot If i made two parts??

[cybrasigilism]

Nothing Like A Sharp Dressed Man (Nam-gyu X F!Reader ONESHOT)

warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | roommates to lovers(?) | light choking | degradation | oral (m! receiving) | PiV (wrap your willy if your gonna get silly) | nam-gyu’s a bit of a dick (shocker i know) this is my interpretation of the character, please be respectful even if my opinion on the character differs from your own

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: saw a drawing someone made of nam-gyu in his work attire pre the squid games and my mind got straight to work. i know this is not requested but i need to indulge in some OG works from time to time. enjoy!! (THE SMUT PART IS A BIT SHORT I FEEL, I APOLOGIZE)

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

your experience with roommates was interesting, to say the very least. it truly was luck of the draw when it came to the array of characters you’ve shared a space with— but hey, anything to stay afloat and pay rent, especially in this economy.

when you first met your latest roommate, nam-gyu, you were certain the two of you would not get along. he was smarmy, standoffish, and just plain rude. not to mention he was a complete hypocrite; whenever you had a friend over at any point of the day, you would get texts from him telling you to keep it down (or rather “shut the fuck up”, if you were going to quote him directly) due to him having to work later that night. but whenever he had friends over at ungodly hours of the night, making all sorts of noise and blaring music, you weren’t allowed to comment on it. he wouldn’t fight you on it, but you may as well not say anything because it truly is in one ear and out the other with nam-gyu.

you two never agreed on anything. you were almost always at each others throats, it even got to a point where you would go out of your way to spite one another— for example, one of you might use the last of something without replacing it, or say if you wanted to watch TV in the living room; you had better make it snappy to claim your spot or else nam-gyu will have “spontaneously” decided that he wanted to watch TV too. i mean, god forbid you two actually watch something together, that would require tolerating each other’s presence for more than 3 minutes and that was definitely out of the realm of possibility.

or so you thought.

up until a certain point you actually had no idea what nam-gyu did for work. all you knew was that his shifts were at obscene hours, and he would always wake you up when he got back home with the ridiculous amount of noise he made coming in the house. you were mystified when you caught a glimpse of him all dressed up in his full-black business attire. you didn’t really get a chance to take the view in though, because he was out the door before he noticed you staring. you remember feeling your cheeks heat up, butterflies in your stomach— oh my god,

did you find him.. hot?

you doubted these feelings at first, telling yourself that even if this was how you felt about him dressed like that— nothing would ever come of it. as far as you knew, nam-gyu hated you just as much as you did him, right?

right?

you tried to remind yourself that this was your combative, hypocritical, asshole roommate. this was the guy who always got the last slice of pizza just as you were about to grab it; the guy who uses up the hot water before you take a shower; the guy who.. looked really good in those dress pants from the glimpse you got at him—shit. you were completely cooked. you knew you were cooked when you caught yourself waiting to hear nam-gyu leave his room, so you could sneak a peek of him in that damned uniform before he left for work; you definitely knew you were cooked when you found yourself fantasizing about him. you had to fill in some details with your imagination, which was the worst mistake you could have made because god that just made you crave him more. you should have been completely ashamed with your actions when he started coming to mind while you fucked yourself; imagining his hands in place of your own between your legs, wondering what his moans sounded like. fuck, you knew he would kill you if he found out about how perverse you had become. but that would never happen. i mean, you were being discreet…. right?

unfortunately, you weren’t being as discreet as you apparently thought. one faithful night, while you were trying to sneak a peek at nam-gyu getting ready to head out the door, he noticed you. fuck, you thought, whipping around the corner so fast you hoped he hadn’t realized what you were doing. the feeling of butterflies was more-so out of nervousness now, you tried to rationalize to yourself as you paced in your room, biting your nails anxiously. “maybe he won’t suspect anything, i mean how could he? it was just this once..” you tried to think critically here, how would he be able to deduce that you were undressing him with your eyes just then— and had been for the past dozen nights? you figured it would be best to just sleep it off, and hope he didn’t ask any questions in the morning.

⟢

a loud knock jolted you awake. you glanced at your phone. “4:22?” you knew who it was, but why was he knocking on your door at 4:22 in the morning? nam-gyu knocked again, to which you drowsily said “i’m coming, i’m coming.” as you threw on your sleep shirt, baggy enough to shield your lack of pants. you opened the door to see nam-gyu, still in that uniform. you must have been giving him quite the look, because he raised his eyebrow and snapped his fingers almost in your face. “hey, my eyes are up here dipshit.” you jumped, making direct eye contact with him, not realizing where you had just been looking. “what the fuck what was that earlier? didn’t take you for a stalker.” damn, he was onto you.

“a stalker? no i was just..” “just what?” he cut in, causing you to purse your lips in frustration. “just getting more visual material to jack off to later?” your eyes widened when he said that, causing him to laugh in a way that you knew was at your expense. “god.. i had a feeling that was it.” he scoffed, you felt your cheeks grow warmer by the second with embarrassment. “you really didn’t think i could hear you moaning my name through the wall? hell i’d be surprised if the neighbours didn’t hear..” you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, you were humiliated. had you really been so fucked out of your mind that you didn’t catch yourself moaning his name? “look, i’m sorry… i should have never even—“ you started, actively avoiding his eyes. he did something then that caught you off guard entirely. he grabbed your chin, redirecting your gaze to meet him. “sorry? shit, if you’re gonna be a dirty little slut, don’t apologize for that.” you were confused, even more so because that little name he called you made you feel.. something.

nam-gyu knew what he was doing to you, and he was about to take full advantage of that. for some reason, having you at his mercy like this was totally turning him on. he couldn’t deny the way his pants tightened when you looked at him like that— fuck it. “oh..” he noticed the way you pressed your thighs together just then. “oh, you like it when i call you that.. don’t you?” you nodded instinctively. his grip shifted from your chin to your throat, squeezing lightly as he moved in close enough to whisper to you. a light moan leaving your lips as he did so.

“then why don’t you show me how much of a slut you can be.”

⟢

you don’t know how you got into this situation, having nam-gyu’s dick shoved between your lips, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind. his grip on your head was almost strong enough to be painful, but you were too focused on the sounds he was making to be bothered by it.

“oh fuck… fuck, your lips—“ he groaned, bucking his hips up into your mouth. you whined around him when the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, but that only egged him on. “yeah, you like being used like this, huh?” he was enjoying this way more than you thought, hell he was so eager to have your mouth on his cock he didn’t even take his clothes off. not that you minded, of course. “you’ve been waiting for me to fuck your mouth like this, haven’t you?” nam-gyu’s words were broken up by moans and whimpers he failed to mask; you really had no idea the effect you had on him up until this point. just then, he pushed your head down as far as you could go, mustering a gag out you.

“it’s rude to ignore people when they ask you a question.” he said through gritted teeth, chest heaving from how good your mouth felt on his dick. you looked up at him, eyes watering. “answer me, bitch.” whether it was the way he looked so. damn. good in the uniform, or the way he was ordering you around like a dog; you felt your pussy clench around nothing, god you needed him right were he wasn’t so bad it hurt. you nodded, hoping that if you did what you were told, then he would finally cut to the chase and fuck you. “oh, so you can follow orders.” he smirked, pulling your head off his dick and sitting back onto your bed. “in that case, ride me.” your eyes widened, but you did what he said without a word, straddling him as though you were in a trance.

both you and nam-gyu made an indescribable sound of pleasure when you sunk down onto his cock. his gripped your hips as you did so, sliding you down even faster. you cried out, and he kept you bottomed out on his dick for a moment. you thought for a second that it was to allow you time to adjust to the full length of him, but he wasn’t that nice. you were just getting used to him when he began to move you up and down his dick, biting his lip as he did so. “oh my fuck!” you moaned out, planting your hands onto nam-gyu for balance. his grip on your hips was so firm you were positive he would bruise you, but you didn’t really give a shit then; too focused on how fucking amazing his cock felt inside you then. “shit, you sound like such a whore—“ he was one to talk, becoming less and less able to cover up his own slutty noises. “it’s good i’m fucking you like the little slut you are then—fuck.”

even on top you were completely at his mercy, and you loved it. you loved the way he fucked up into that tight pussy of yours almost carelessly, you loved being able to take in the full sight of him in his work clothes while he did it to. the way his shirt, unbuttoned down his chest, looked disheveled as he used you this way; the way you knew you were making a mess of his pants when your hips collided; the way he was so desperate to put you in your place like this that he saw no time to change out of the outfit he knew got you off in the first place. everything that was happening to you right now under any other circumstance would have not turned you on this much, but for some reason that outfit changed everything.

and you definitely didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

thanks for reading! i apologize for the lack of dialogue, this was just an idea i had and i wanted to put it to “paper” as soon as possible! thank you guys for putting up with my self-indulgent nonsense again :P

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @kouzih @strangelife122 @gabbystinks

[drownedthemall]

sweetness of her laughter

part 3 - lavender

caracalla x noble!reader x geta

a/n - i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

i'm open to writing some oneshots, so if you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them! i have like zero boundaries, so go wild lmao

3.5k words

summary - caracalla has taken an obvious liking to you, but how does geta feel about you?

they've also invited you to join them in the entertainment hall but how will they react when you try to leave?

The Emperors have just dismissed you and the General. Geta and Caracalla are left lounging in the entertainment hall. The younger brother calls for the cupbearer to refill his goblet. Caracalla breaks the boredom-filled silence with a question. "So, what do you think of her?", he peers forward, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. "Do you like her?" he continues.

Geta, without facing him, responds, "I don't know what it is you see in her, brother." This causes Caracalla to groan, frustrated by his brother’s answer. He leans back in his cushioned seat, pouting, arms crossed.

---

You're awoken by a couple of maids surrounding your bed. This startles you. You sit up. The smooth, silky covers that you had slept in slide off your shoulders and drape around your waist. You catch your breath as you realise where you are and the predicament you're in. They comfort you in a panic, buzzing around like flies, "We're so sorry, Princess, we didn't mean to startle you!"

You raise one of your hands, rubbing your eyes with your palm, "It's fine," you manage to mumble in your sleep-stricken phase.

This calms them. "I've prepared your clothing," one of them explains softly. "Which Emperor Geta picked out," she then adds. This piques your interest momentarily.

The other chimes in, "They await you in the gardens," she mentions with importance in her voice.

All of this information barely registers as you try to desperately get rid of the drowsiness. You acknowledge their chattering with a hum, hoping it will suffice. Thankfully, they catch on, and you hear their footsteps grow quieter as they leave your safe haven.

You sigh as you move from under the covers. Sliding off the bed and placing your bare feet onto the cool flooring. You cringe at the change in temperature. You raise your head to see a subtle blue stola, folded on a chair. Only noticing the colour when your eyes settle on it. You wonder if that's Geta’s favoured colour.

As you dress, you're reminded of your encounter with Caracalla last night. The thought makes you fumble with the material in your hands. You huff, trying to shoo away the memory. Annoyed at yourself for feeling so flustered. They're bloodthirsty, horrible, incompetent Emperors, you jest. You need to stop yourself from feeling this way about them.

---

You leave your chambers, all freshened up and ready for the day. You adorned yourself with your own jewellery, which didn't really fit with the Roman fashion trends. Which wasn't bad; it just made you stand out. If anything, it represents where you're from and reminds you of home. This bestows you with a little bit of comfort as you wander these foreign lands.

The two praetorians lead you to the gardens; one walks behind you, while the other is in front leading the way. They don't muster up any small talk, only fulfilling their assigned roles. This undoubtedly bores you.

The moment you're outside, you can see the sun peak past the columns, feeling the contrast between the stars' warmth and the cool morning breeze. As you enter the gardens, you can hear the fruit tree leaves rustling, noticing the colourful fruit pop out against the green.

As you wander deeper, the praetorians leave you. Amidst the blooming flowers, a table is set up. You see the two Emperors already sitting. They were sat on the same side. You can also hear some bickering between the two, but you can't make out what they're saying. The noises of a squealing monkey don't help with your attempt at eavesdropping. As you get closer, Geta moves his attention to you. Caracalla is visibly annoyed at his brother for ignoring him, but he still turns his head to see who has grabbed his brother’s focus. His annoyance instantly dissipates, eyes softening at the sight of you.

He seems mesmerised by the way the sun enlightens you. How it casts a glow over your hair and jewellery. You stand before them. "Morning, Emperors," you greet them both.

"Please sit." Geta instructs as he motions for the chair opposite them. You do as told.

The table was carved from limestone; it had been plated with a variety of food. From savouries such as cheese, eggs, and bread. To sweet, such as fresh and dried fruit like dates, apricots, and figs. There were cups placed for each of you, with a cupbearer standing away from earshot. None of the Emperors has yet filled their plates; either they had just arrived or they were waiting for you to join. There's a resounding silence between the three of you, with both of them unapologetically staring at you. You think they'd be aware of some social etiquette. You try to avoid their eyes by focusing on the monkey Caracalla is accompanied by. It sits atop his head; you hate to admit how cute the sight is.

"Do you want to hold him?" says the brother in gold. His raspy voice alluded to the fact he awoke not long ago. Before you can respond, "Here," he softly manoeuvres the monkey into your grasp.

You rush to hold out your hands. The cutely dressed primate is perched in your arms. You smile at the way he leans into your touch. You can't help but giggle at the chirping noises it creates. "What's his name?" you ask, glancing upwards at the Emperors. Geta is drinking his wine, while the other is providing you his full attention.

"Dondas," Caracalla answers solemnly. Geta then intervenes, "Have you ever seen one before?" motioning with his cup to the monkey.

You move your gaze to the younger one. "Seen what? ... A monkey?" you redundantly ask, "No, I have not," you answer, letting the monkey return to his owner. “Where I’m from, they wouldn’t last long, so I’ve only heard stories,” you explain.

Geta hums, acknowledging your answer.

"Wine?" Caracalla asks as Dondas perches up on his shoulder.

"Uhm, yes, that would be very ki-"

"Cupbearer!' he shouts, snapping his fingers for more emphasis.

Your cup is filled to the brim with wine. The brothers then soon after start adding food to their plates, and you follow suit.

All that can be heard is the sound of you three eating. Followed by the sounds of the birds residing in the gardens. The eldest brother can be seen sharing pieces of fruit with Dondas. This leaves you smiling at such a sweet gesture. You think this goes unnoticed, but you feel a pair of eyes burning into your skull. These two have such a staring problem, Gods.

"We'd like you to join us in the entertainment hall this afternoon," the one in cool tones states. Making your smile falter slightly. "Of course, I'd be honoured," you politely nod.

He turns his attention to the one in red; his demeanour seems to have become softer. His shoulders slump, letting his guard down. He begins, "Macrinus keeps boasting about his new gladiator." He sips on some wine. “ Have you heard, brother?”, he finishes.

"Yeah! He'll be bringing him today, right?" Caracalla giggles at the thought of what's to come.

---

Surprisingly, the Emperors were the first to leave the table as they had duties to attend to. Whatever they were... You didn't care to pry.

This left you with a couple of hours to spare before your presence was required in the entertainment hall. They emphasised that you were to do whatever you pleased, as long as it was within the palace grounds. This was annoyingly restricting, but you hoped this would be temporary.

You decide to spend your time roaming around the gardens. They were absolutely beautiful; you were fascinated at how the plants differed from the ones you knew of back home. You smelt and admired almost every blooming flower you came across. As you inhale the scent of lavender, you hear some chatter. This intrigues you, and you try to focus on their words.

You see their figures; they were only a few feet away. They were servants by the looks of it, responsible for the upkeep of the garden you're currently in. They had not yet noticed you as they continued gossiping away.

"Can you believe them?" one puffs his chest.

"I know, right? They never leave their chambers this early," the shorter man adds.

"The amount of abuse the other servants had to endure is unbelievable. They were so adamant about having breakfast in the gardens," he rants to the man, going on and on. Enunciating each word. The other man nods in agreement, listening to his complaints.

"So unlike them," he continues.

"I think they want to impress that new foreign lady that's here."

"You think so? I thought, sh-", your foot accidentally scuffs against the gravel; this makes them stop and snap their heads towards the location of the sound.

Their faces pale at the sight of you.

You can't help but laugh at their reaction. You try to soothe them by complimenting their work and the botany surrounding you. You can’t imagine what fear the Emperors have instilled in the servants and maids that work here.

---

You hear of a commotion forming in a part of the palace. It seems people have already started gathering in the hall. This tells you that your time of mindlessly wandering around has ended. A praetorian stands in front of you, declaring that your presence is needed in the entertainment hall. Right on time.

You're relieved to see that the room is not yet full, only a few nobles gathered in some parts of the room. You're guided to where the Emperors are lounging at. They were seated on a creme, cushioned lectus, that had a gold trim and an ornate pattern in the fabric. Caracalla was in his preferred position, slumped over with his legs spread wide open. His togas length falling in-between. You shy away at the sight. While Geta was a lot more modest with his pose. Slouched forward instead, holding the hand of a concubine.

The concubines that surround them are more resigned, keeping to themselves. Which is a stark difference from when you first met the Emperors. Getas ones are still a bit handsy, however.

"We're so glad you're here to join us, Princess", the one in silver declares, speaking for the both of them.

"I'm honoured you've invited me", you politely respond. Fiddling with the bracelets you're wearing.

"Come sit!" Caracalla announces with his arms wide open. He sits up and pats a spot to the left of him. Wanting you to sit beside him.

You smile and head over to where he's sat. As you near the lectus, Geta pulls at your wrist. Forcing you to sit in between the both of them. Caracalla shoots a glare towards his brother. His grip remains on your wrist, but after you've settled he softens and lets go. It seems Caracalla wanted to hog you all for himself. He doesn't say anything but Geta can hear the cogs turning in his head.

"Symmetry," Geta states offhandedly, ignoring his brother’s disgruntled face. You can't help but chuckle at his retort.

"What's funny.", the one in gold grimaces, eyeing you. This throws you off. This is the first time he's talked to you in such a way. "Uh, nothing, Emperor", you stammer.

Geta flat-out ignores the change in his brother’s demeanour and perks up, "Have you ever been to the arena and seen a gladiator fight?" He asks with genuine interest.

"..No, Emperor, I have not". You've had chances to attend but you never did. Having a distaste towards such unnecessary suffering.

"Really??", he muses, leaning in closer to you. "Well, you're really lucky then, you'll be getting front-row seats."

You feel nauseous at the idea. There was only so much blood you could endure. You've seen people die before but... When people are dying for entertainment? That just makes you sick to the stomach.

You smile softly, "That's so generous of you Emperors, I'm thankful for the opportunity", you flatter.

You three quiet. All that can be heard is the chatter of nobles and the sound of light music playing. They both were so close. The lectus was long enough to allow wider spaces between the three of you. However, it seemed they had no care for this.

You can smell Caracalla again, the same way you were able to when he was in your chambers. Caracalla’s mood seems to be the same. Because of this, he's keeping to himself and so is Geta. You're honestly thankful for this. Sparing you some tranquillity for a short while. You innocently ask, without much thought, "Will Acacius be attending this today?"

Geta almost instantly scowls. Noticing that you dropped his title completely. Now both of their moods have gone sour. The somewhat comfortable silence has now turned into a suffocating tension.

Geta shifts in his seat, "No, he's busy fucking Lucilla after being gone for so long.", giving you a half-assed answer.

You feel a pit in your stomach. You regret ever speaking. "Why? You miss him or something?", Caracalla jabs.

"No, no, I just thought that this would be something he would attend" you, answer genuinely believing this.

Caracalla leans forward, and his arm wraps around your waist. His other hand comes to gently move the hair from out of your eyes. You can see the blemishes and scars his skin is littered with, and how the makeup tries to conceal it. His breath ghosts your ear.

"Did you two fuck..?" he barely whispers this, intending it to be heard by others. Desiring to further embarrass you.

You turn red. Your eyes dart all over his face, shocked at such a question. He gasps, a grin appearing on his lips. "What will Lucilla think?" he actually whispers this time.

You shake your head, "I would never..!" you protest plainly, flustered at the accusation.

You can admit to yourself that the General is a good-looking man, but such unsavoury thoughts have never crossed your mind. You were too busy worrying about your fate to even feed those delusions.. or decisions.

You notice Geta scanning your face, they're both amused and smiling at your discomfort. Their moods have improved but only at your expense. You're all three pulled out of your inside joke as a man greets the Emperors. They seemed excited by his presence.

"Macrinus," Geta greets. The man that stood before you three was dressed in a dark toga. The man's appearance seems familiar to you but you can't make out where you’ve seen him before.

"Have you two bet yet?" he enquires with a sly leer.

Caracalla chuckles at his fowardness, "We have trust in your fighter, Macrinus".

"He will not disappoint, Emperors" he insists, nodding to make a point. Geta acknowledges this with a hum, scratching his chin absentmindedly, waiting for him to leave them be.

Macrinus instead, decides to point his attention to you. You were hard to avoid, not only because of your appearance but because you were sandwiched in between the Emperors of Rome.

"Who's this?" he asks, innocently. Inquiring into your background.

They both simultaneously turn to you. They introduce you to him and you make acquaintance, "Pleasure to meet you, Macrinus", you say on cue.

"Likewise, Princess. What brings you to Rome?", he smiles. This continuous questioning has annoyed the brothers. As you're about to respond, Geta intervenes, "Visiting", providing a one-word answer to stop his interrogation.

The people of Rome have no idea that the Emperors are searching for an Empress. The two of them are insistent in trying to keep this hush-hush. Attempting to avoid any disappointed nobles that can’t present their own daughters as bachelorettes. However, your presence has still led to rumours and inquiries into why you’re here. Many are more-so confused about why they had chosen you, you were not a well-known name amongst royals.

This causes Macrinus' confidence to falter. He mutters under his breath. "Well, I hope you enjoy the many pleasures of Rome, Princess," he states before disappearing from their increasing displeasure.

---

As more treasured nobles and rich folk fill the hall, Macrinus is asked to introduce his overly praised fighter.

You notice that the Emperors beside you topple forward, directing all of their attention to what's happening before them. You’re finally free from Caracalla’s grasp.

The man, that is owned by Macrinus, looks tired and vengeful. He looks like that’s what he ran off of, rage. You wonder what led him to be here. You felt pity for him, but you doubt he's the kind of man to appreciate such a sentiment. You assume he's the kind to view it as an insult. 

Caracalla interjects the fight, seemingly annoyed, "Swords!" he declares. "We want swords.", he throws a couple to the ground for them to clamour to. He returns to his seat, placing an arm around your waist, once more.

The violence has just begun and you signal to the cupbearer for a drink, you don't know how much you can endure of this while sober. You hope this gives you some solace.

You wince as the man staggers forward, pouncing on his opponent. You hear gasps amongst the crowd as each slice and pound of a fist makes contact with flesh. You barely pay attention, focusing on Caracalla’s subtle squeezes to your hips, him pulling you closer as the fight escalates. You feel his rings dig into your skin, the cool metal subduing the stress, allowing you to focus on that instead of the fight.

Squelch. The crowd gasps and turns silent. Thud. The man falls to the ground at the hands of the vengeful one. Geta jumps out of the lectus, arms raised.

"Remarkable!!" he shouts, his voice loud, resounding in the hall.

He passes past Macrinus, "Congratulations." he quickly notes.

His breathing is fast and erratic, excitement courses through him. "From where are you?" he demands from the shackled man.

The interaction between the Emperor and the winner is tuned out by your breathing. You watch as the dead man gets dragged out from behind him. Seeing the blood smear and stain the once white marbled floor. You feel nauseous at the sight, gulping down more wine than should be necessary. The deep colour only reminds you of the event that just took place.

You notice that after the bloodied man's poem, he looks at you. None of the brothers see this. Caracalla stumbles from his seat, praising Macrinus for such an amusing show. Leaving you, momentarily.

The winning man is then guided to a healer. He's appointed to play in the upcoming gladiator games. In your now cloudy mind, you wish him luck. Knowing that only death will follow him.

However this isn't the end, you’re told there's more entertainment to come. But, you feel as though this was more than enough excitement for today.

As they return to their lounge area, they sit on either side of you. Instead, you stand with your cup in hand. Caracalla instinctively grabs ahold of the end of your blue stola. You can see their faces contort. "..I don't feel well," you mumble, they await for you to continue. "I feel that I should return to my chambers..", you carefully reason, taking a step from them.

Geta takes your hand in his. You try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer. "Stay," he demands.

You stay quiet at his demand. He forces you into his hold, making you sit in his lap. His scent clouds your senses. The proximity doesn't subdue how nauseous you feel. Caracalla stares at the two of you. You're unable to read his expression, you think that the wine may be at fault for this. You feel Geta’s arms enrapture around your waist. Your arm finds itself naturally behind him, holding onto his shoulder for support.

Caracall tries convincing you in his own twisted way, "It was fun," referencing the brawl that just ended.

Geta adds, "You'll learn to enjoy it", he leans against the lectus, your body is now fully pressed up against his. His words imply that there will be more violence-filled games for you to witness.

This visit doesn't seem as temporary as you had prayed it would be.

---

The evening has come to a close and they're now trudging their way to their chambers. You had still managed to leave early, thank the gods. It wasn't as early as you would've liked but you were pleased either way. Small victories, you jest.

They both walk together through the halls. Geta is then reminded of you as they pass by your room. "I think I do", he declares, his voice echoing against the barren walls.

"What.?", the older one furrows his brows.

"Like her", he continues.

"You think you like her?", Caracalla asks, putting his brother’s sentence together.

"Yes.", he hums.

"Who?", Caracalla asks, scratching his head in an attempt to make sense of who he was talking about. Geta just stays silent, side-eyeing his brother as they reach their own chambers.

taglist - @duckyhowls @himikoquack @lover-rep-fanfic @t6gse370 <3

[casedclosedbye]

Braiding the lines

Spencer reid x reader

Oneshot

Fluff

Wc: 2k

Summary: A thought popped into your head, and before you knew it, you were standing and walking toward him. "Hey," you said, surprising even yourself, "can I braid your hair?" Spencer blinked, his eyebrows quirking in that way that made him seem both completely puzzled and oddly intrigued. "My hair?" he repeated, as if it was a foreign concept.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan, and the faint rustling of pages turning in a well-worn book. You sat on the couch, curled up in a blanket, your legs tucked under you, eyes scanning a page of your own novel—though your focus was slipping. Your mind kept wandering to the figure across the room, Spencer Reid.

He was sprawled across the armchair in the corner of the living room, his head tilted down as he focused on his book. A faint light from the lamp on the side table illuminated the sharp lines of his face, the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, and the intensity with which he read. He was always like that—so lost in whatever he was doing, so absorbed in his thoughts.

You shifted slightly, a thought flickering in your mind. It had been a while since you'd spent an evening like this, just the two of you, no case looming, no FBI emergency. Just quiet time together.

Finally, you set your book down, the decision made. The soft clink of your cup as you placed it down on the coffee table drew his attention. Spencer looked up, a soft smile forming on his face when his eyes met yours.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, his voice quiet, but that familiar edge of curiosity to it.

"Actually... yeah," you said, glancing at the pile of notes and books he'd accumulated in his space. "I was thinking… maybe I could braid your hair."

Spencer blinked, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion, though there was no real hesitation in his expression. "My hair?"

"Yeah. You've been letting it grow out a bit, and it's getting a little long. I could braid it for you... If you want. It seems like it could be kind of relaxing."

A surprised laugh escaped him, but it was genuine, more of a chuckle than anything else. "I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone braid my hair before," he admitted, running a hand through the mess of curls on his head. "But, I mean… I guess it could be a good way to wind down. I don’t mind."

You could sense his quiet curiosity about the idea, and as you moved to sit next to him on the armchair, the tension in his shoulders seemed to soften. You reached for his hair, fingers brushing against the slightly damp strands, noticing how it seemed to have grown longer since the last time you’d really paid attention to it.

"Alright, let’s do this." You grinned. "No going back now, Reid."

Spencer chuckled softly again, then leaned back in the chair, allowing you to settle behind him. There was a moment of silence, and you could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, his muscles relaxing as you began to run your fingers gently through his hair. You knew he was always a bit more sensitive to touch than most people, and it made you focus even more carefully as your hands slid through the strands, smoothing out any tangles.

"How does it feel?" you asked after a moment, pausing to check in.

"Good," Spencer murmured, his voice soft, almost sleepy. "It’s… kind of soothing, actually."

"Glad you think so. You're so tense sometimes, I figured this might help."

A quiet silence settled in as you continued working through his hair, weaving your fingers through it in slow, practiced motions. You had braided your own hair for years, but doing it for someone else felt different. It felt like you were giving a little part of yourself over, offering something intimate. You’d noticed how Spencer tended to avoid touching his hair too much, almost as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it when it wasn’t in its usual disheveled state.

"Why don't you let it grow out more?" you asked after a few minutes, as you delicately sectioned off his hair, separating it into three strands. "It suits you. The curls are kind of… charming."

He huffed a laugh, a small, self-deprecating sound. "Charming? You’re just saying that."

"No, I mean it," you replied with a small smile. "It makes you look… I don't know, kind of mysterious? Like a mad scientist, but in the best possible way."

"Mad scientist?" he asked, sounding slightly amused, but also intrigued. "I’ve never been called that before."

"You’ve got the whole eccentric genius thing going on, I think," you said, your fingers working with his hair, weaving the sections more tightly together. "It suits you. And this," you added with a light tug, "definitely suits you."

There was a long pause as Spencer processed the comment, and for a moment, you thought he might say something in response. But instead, he just sighed in contentment, his body relaxing even further as your fingers continued their slow, rhythmic movements.

"Maybe I should grow it out more," he said, after a moment, as if considering the possibility.

You smiled. "I think you'd look good with longer hair. More people would probably notice you too."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, as if debating that. You focused on finishing the braid, working quickly and efficiently, now that the first few sections were in place. His hair was a little longer than usual, so it took a bit more time to manage. You kept your hands steady, not wanting to rush.

"Do you think I care if people notice me?" Spencer’s voice was quiet, but there was something thoughtful about it, something more vulnerable in the way he asked.

You paused, considering his question, realizing there was more behind it than simple curiosity. You hadn’t been sure if Spencer, with all his intelligence and the depth of his mind, cared much about things like appearance. He wasn’t someone who placed importance on being seen, or at least, that’s how it seemed.

"I think," you said slowly, "it’s not so much about whether or not people notice you. It’s about… well, whether you notice *yourself* sometimes. You’re smart, Spence. You do incredible things, but I think you forget to take care of the little things. Like letting someone braid your hair, or noticing that your hair’s a bit longer than you thought."

His lips curved into a smile, but there was no teasing in his expression—just a quiet acknowledgment.

"Maybe you're right," he said, his voice quieter now, like he was mulling over your words. "Maybe I should let people take care of me more."

You finished the braid, the end of it hanging neatly against the back of his chair. Gently, you tied it with a small elastic band you found in your bag. There was something oddly satisfying about the simple act, about taking care of him in this small, tender way.

"All done," you said, leaning back to admire your work. "How does it feel?"

Spencer reached up to touch the braid, his fingers brushing over the smooth, neat sections. "It feels… surprisingly good," he said, the surprise in his voice almost amused now. "Like I’m a little more put-together than I usually am."

"Good," you said, smiling. "It’s nice to see you relaxing a bit."

Spencer gave you a small, genuine smile in return, his eyes softening as they met yours. "Thanks for doing this," he said quietly, as if the gesture itself meant more than the words conveyed. "I didn’t realize how much I needed this… Just sitting here with you."

The moment between you both lingered for a while, a quiet connection, a soft warmth in the space you shared. The apartment felt even quieter now, the buzz of the world outside fading into the background, replaced by the subtle rhythm of your breath and the shared understanding that sometimes, it’s the small things that bring people closer.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

mikey 31?

idk what direction this would go

Mikey + Gun Violence

Mikey had seen plenty of fake guns. Jupiter Jim Ray guns, obnoxious bad buy Lou Jitsu guns, even Donnie's outrageous laser guns.

He'd never seen a real one.

And he'd certainly never had one pointed at his head.

The depths of the barrel were infinitely dark and the metal outsides gleamed like the Shredder's armor.

"You get that away from him," Leo growled at the woman who held it.

The woman nodded at one of the goons that stood at Leo's shoulders. There was a dull crunch and he grunted in pain, sucking in a sharp breath.

"You really are in no position to make demands, here," the woman replied in a perfectly even voice. "You will tell me where the other one is, or the small is going to be more red than orange."

"There is no other one," Mikey managed, his voice shaking. "It's only us two."

She wacked the butt of the gun against Mikey's head and he cried out. Leo made a noise deep in his throat.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know neither of you are smart enough to hack my company's accounts. There is at least one more. And you are going to tell me where he is."

Click.

The cold cold cold cold metal barrel rested against Mikey's shell.

"...Or we'll see just how bulletproof this freak's shell is."

Mikey's wide eyes met Leo's wider ones. Mikey shook his head a fraction of an inch. Leo's face twisted, mind whirring behind his eyes.

Something warm was trickling down the side of Mikey's face. His skull throbbed where she'd struck him.

"He's-- he's--" panicking, Leo was either struggling to think of a lie, or making himself tell the truth. He squeezed his eyes shut, sagging. "I can take you to him."

"Leo, don't!"

The woman's face twisted in a horrible grin. "Great. Take me to the little thief." Her cold gaze flicked down to Mikey. "But let us lose the... dead weight."

There was one heartbeat--

One singular heartbeat--

And then--

She fired.

It was louder than he'd ever expected. The BANG went through both of his ears like a spike through his brain.

But that was nothing

NOTHING

compared to the immediate, visceral, all-consuming agony that exploded across his shell, into his shell, through his shell, through him.

He couldn't even scream.

He just slumped forward against the asphalt.

Leo's scream, however, ripped through the air, long and drawn out.

As horrible pain ripped through him, Mikey slowly realized that he was not dead. His whole shell and shoulder felt like they'd been blasted to pieces. But he wasn't dead.

Distantly, Leo was still screaming. The lady was saying something. Her foot nudged his shoulder. Icy needles seemed to burn through it.

A small and pitiful sound escaped his mouth. It wouldn't stop.

Leo sobbed in relief.

"See? He's still alive. I don't know for how long, but be assured I was merciful in my aiming." Her voice was fading.

Mikey forced his eyes open. Everything was blurry. He could see a dark stain spreading across the ground. Had she shot his upper shell and the bullet had gone through his shoulder?

The thought was terrifying.

The goons were dragging Leo away. Kicking and screaming, Leo struggled in their grip. Mikey's name fell from his lips like tears from his eyes.

"HOLD ON, MIKEY! JUST HOLD ON!"

And then they were all gone.

No one left to hear the pitiful whimpers of the bleeding boxshell.

[screampied]

just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'

wc. 2.0k

toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,

his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”

“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..

“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”

you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”

“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”

“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.

“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”

with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”

“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”

you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”

“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”

“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”

toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”

you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”

“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”

leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”

in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”

“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”

for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—

but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.

“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”

a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”

“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”

“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.

toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.

toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.

he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.

you return the gesture,

closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.

life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.

after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”

with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’

“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”

“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”

your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”

“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”

“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.

toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”

you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”

“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.

“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”

“i .. love you too toji.”

he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.

[lotus-acid-trip]

hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰

feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️

“I approve of this one.”

Telemachus x Reader

[Epic The Musical]

oneshot

fluff

This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.

His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.

A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”

Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.

“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“

“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.

“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.

“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.

The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”

“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.

Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.

……………………………………………………

……………………………………………………

The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more. 

Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“

“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.

You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.

Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”

“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.

You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“

A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”

“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.

“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.

[madamechrissy]

Kofi link (if you feel generous & wanna buy me a ☕️)

ꔫ Jujutsu Kaisen ꔫ

ꔫ Gojo x Reader-Time after Time- Finished- Wc: 103k- (Ao3 link) CEO Gojo, you're his lead assistant and you put in your two weeks notice, so Gojo pulls out ALL the stops- cute/fun smut (first jjk fanfic I madeee)

Take Me Home Tonight - Finished-Wc: 136k- law professor Gojo/x law student (A03 Link) you hook up with a sexy white haired man, only to be in his class two months later!?!? witty/banter, law setting-smut

Fractured Desires - Finished- explicit- wc 95k (angsty/ toxic/smutfest) Ao3 link You're Suguru Geto's girl, and he decides to 'share you- which becomes a fkn MESS (Starts off as Sugu/reader- Extremely explicit-yandere asf)

Silent Serenades - Ongoing- wc 146k - You are promised to Marry Duke Gojo, you're the diamond after all. Only thing is, he HATES you. Angsty arranged marriage AU, 1800s-explicit- cruel Duke Gojo- AO3 Link

Healing Hearts -Dr. Gojo/intern- ongoing- You're an exhausted intern, and you just so happen to be Dr. Gojo's intern. - Hospital setting/witty/light angst Ao3 Link- 49k

Gojo MiniSeries- Would you come with me? -You have been Satoru's best friend forever, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. Finished- three parts 22k

Gojo long oneshots here- Masterlist - Drabbles/ short oneshots : Masterlist

ꔫ Sukuna x Reader - Cursed Promises - finished- 24k words- You are arranged to marry King Sukuna to save your village, everyone is terrified of him, but are you?- true form Sukuna smutty and sweet Ao3

Mini series- ongoing- Pour it up- 6k wc- you're a mom fallen on hard times, and decide to strip again, only to meet Sukuna, the owner. - and he needs you

Oneshots/Drabbles here: Masterlist

ꔫ Nanami x Reader- But it's Better if You Do- (Ao3) Finished- Wc 92k- Masterlist- You're a barista AND a stripper, and in love w/Nanami Kento for a year, when finally he lands right in your strip club!? Sweet, smutty-daddy nanami-fluffy

Oneshots/Drabbles here: Masterlist

ꔫ Toji x Reader Dirty Little Secret -(Ao3) Finished- Wc: 86k - (Masterlist) Toji is your dad (Shiu) best friend visiting on spring break, what is supposed to be a hookup becomes so much more- smutty ASF, freaky, age gap

Oneshots/drabbles here: Masterlist

ꔫ Geto x Reader- Up in the Air: Finished- Wc: 103k - Masterlist -jilted at the altar, you meet Suguru Geto on a plane to your 'honeymoon' - and he helps you find yourself again. hurt/comfort, sweet and smutty

Oneshots/Drabbles here: Masterlist

ꔫ Choso x Reader-Keep this Lowkey- ongoing- After nasty breakups, you and Choso decide to become friends w/benefits - angsty/sweet- smut- 50k A03

Smut Drabbles: here & here & here

ꔫ Satosugu x Reader- oneshots/mini series - Masterlist

JJK men Multi x Reader- Here & here

Blog recs -- Tagsss: #Inbox #Fic recs

About me I'm Chrissy, she/her- a girl mom, 90s bb, millenial, Aries, weeb. Obsessed with hot Anime men. I started writing in February of 2024 after a big break. Romantic comedy, smut with lots of plot. Also angst and darker stories, including Yandere and bdsm (properly tagging them) If you don't like those, skip and move on 💕 I post once or twice a month for each long story typically, oneshots and mini series much faster. Open to requests currently- but I may not always do them or may take time. Currently only writing JJK- open to Black Butler, AOT and maybe more. Characters I write for are - Mainly Gojo ofc lol, but also Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji and Sukuna. Please be kind and respectful

© 2024-2025 All works made by Madamechrissy, you may not reproduce.

[starmapz]

man's best friend - r. sukuna

❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]

❦ oneshot

❝ you know those videos of people falling in love with the pet they didn't want? yeah, turns out your husband sukuna could be the star of one of them. ❞

❦ cw ; 18+ only. mdni. sexual themes. fluff! husband!sukuna. soft!sukuna. part of the love & company series of oneshots but can be read separately.

❦ words ; 1.8k.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

Shutting the door behind you, you kick your boots off and pad slowly into the house. “Ryo!” You call out in search of your husband, peeking into the kitchen.

He rounds the corner in only a pair of gray sweatpants, every peak and valley of his washboard abs on display. If it were any other day, you would be jumping him in a heartbeat and he knows it. So when you don’t, even as your eyes trail down his body, he approaches you suspiciously.

“Who are you n’ what did you do with my wife?” He asks, a hint of playfulness decorating his tone. He eyes your outfit, still in your riding gear aside from your boots and helmet. You haven’t taken off your leather jacket yet, which is odd.

When his gaze lands on your chest, he narrows his eyes. “You get a third tit at work today?” He asks as he realizes you have a lump hidden beneath your coat. You can’t help your giggles at his stupid joke, shaking your head. The lump shuffles beneath your coat and his eyes go wide.

“You did not,” he deadpans, searching your expression.

Oh, but you did.

“Okay listen, I know you didn’t want a pet until we got a bigger place, but hear me out!” You plead as the lump shuffles more before it finally pokes its tiny little face out from your coat.

Facing Sukuna is the tiniest, most disheveled bundle of fur he’s ever seen. The little kitten is pure black, hair sticking out in every direction and wide green eyes that take in the world as the little furball tilts its head curiously at your husband with a pathetic mewl.

“No. No way, that thing’s gotta be covered in fleas. We talked about a dog,” he shakes his head. “Where did you even find it?”

“Ryo, come on!” You pout at him with a look entirely too similar to the kitten and his glare flickers between the two of you. “I found it in the bushes outside work and my co-worker said it’d been there for a while. I couldn’t leave it!” You insist, pulling the furball gently from within your jacket to hold them tightly to your chest.

He’s probably right about the fleas, but how could you not immediately fall in love with the little kitty as it calmly abides to you holding it like a baby, chewing softly on your gloved thumb as you hold it up to Sukuna.

“We don’t even need a big place to get a cat!” You insist. The kitten stops chewing on your thumb, rounded green eyes turning to stare up at Sukuna as it mewls pleadingly. Sukuna has half a mind to wonder if the kitten can understand you because between the two of you pouting at him, he thinks you have to be conspiring specifically to get him to break.

He sighs dramatically, rubbing the crease between his brows. “Fine. But it’s your responsibility.”

And how is Sukuna ever meant to resist his beautiful wife with the way your eyes light up?

Of course, you knew from the moment you brought the bundle of soot home that Sukuna would cave. What you didn’t expect was the way their dynamic shifted.

After getting cleaned up and visiting the vet, you discovered she’s a sweet little girl and insisted on naming her Jiji, after the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service. Your husband had more… creative name choices. Pawasaki and Yameowha were among the worst of his horrible bike-related names, but Ducati had to be the one that really took the cake for the one that made you groan the most.

… And it also happened to be the one that stuck.

“Kuna! Have you seen Cati?” At least Cati sounds close to Kitty, right? Peering into the living room, you catch a glimpse of Sukuna laid out over the couch in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, his arms folded back behind his head and his eyes trained on the TV.

“Yeah, she’s in here,” he replies nonchalantly. Stepping into the room, you look around for her but she’s nowhere to be found. Turning to Sukuna finally, your lips purse and your heart absolutely soars at the sight of the little kitty curled right into the crook of Sukuna’s neck, almost invisible buried in his hoodie.

“Oh. My. God,” you gasp, pulling out your phone to take a photo, which quickly becomes thirty photos to Sukuna’s dismay as his smirk becomes a scowl by the fifteenth. “You two are the cutest things I’ve ever seen. This is gonna be my wallpaper.”

It doesn’t take long for the two to warm up to one another either. Ducati is like his shadow, always following right behind him even as he brushes her off. She’s constantly rubbing against his ankles and mewing for his attention. He doesn’t pay her much mind at first, but his resolve crumbles after only a few weeks.

Brushing your teeth one morning before work, Sukuna walks into the washroom in a red hoodie to grab his razor. As he slips past you, your jaw drops at the realization that Ducati’s little tail is poking out from his hood.

“No way,” you barely manage to mumble through the toothpaste and toothbrush, spitting it out and darting back to your room to grab your phone. It hardly matters that you have toothpaste on your lips still when you need a photo of this right now.

“Your camera roll must be mostly photos of her,” he chides, plugging his razor in.

“You say that like it’s a problem.”

A puff of air leaves his nose in a laugh as he watches your mirth through the mirror. Who is he to deny his wife of having a camera roll full of photos where you can barely make out where your kitten’s limbs start and end?

The day everything changed was when you woke up early enough to see their morning routine. Sukuna got up early to work out and have breakfast before work, while you would practically rush out the door, but your body had other plans today.

The sun warms your cheek as it peeks over the horizon and with a yawn you realize your alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Usually you would just flip over, but a morning with your husband sounds even better.

Slowly shuffling down the hall, you blink sleep from your eyes as you make your way into the kitchen in time to see what might be the funniest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Sukuna sits down at the table with a breakfast burrito on one plate and another smaller plate in his other hand. He sets it down at the chair beside him with some coffee and your jaw drops when you realize what’s on the smaller plate.

It’s Ducati’s fucking breakfast. He pulls the chair beside him out and pats it before pushing her plate to the edge of the table so that she can reach it.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out. Like a deer in the headlights, Sukuna’s eyes widen, before his expression hardens.

“What? She’s hungry,” he grunts like any of this is normal by any means and he isn’t the cheesiest cat dad on the planet. To think he was a dog person a few months ago.

You burst into laughter as his tough-guy persona crumbles. You may be his princess, but that cat is his queen.

“I need to get my phone, oh my god-”

“Don’t you dare!” He roars, but you’re already racing back to the bedroom in a flurry of giggles. Sukuna sighs, slumping back in the chair as he stares at the ceiling.

“You’re such a sucker,” you tease as you snap another dozen photos of the pair to add to your collection.

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles, holding his hand up to block the camera’s view of him as though the tattoos on his wrist don’t spell out exactly who he is.

You found out a week later that the next step from breakfast at the table is apparently coming with you on dates.

Finishing up your makeup for your beach day with your husband, you bound over to the door with your duffle bag of towels, sunglasses, and sunscreen ready to go. Sukuna, on the other hand, packed very differently.

Kneeling on the ground, Ducati’s on her side, her fluffy black tail happily swishing back and forth as Sukuna adjusts a harness on her.

“Kuna, as cute as that is, I don’t wanna lose her,” you gently scold, deciding you have to put your foot down when it comes to your cat joining you on your beach date.

“We won’t lose her,” he gruffs, scooping her up into his arms. “She has a tracker tag. It’s connected to my phone.”

You have to stifle a laugh. “Right, of course. That’s super normal. Normal people do this with their cats.”

Sukuna glowers, heat rising from his neck up to his cheeks. To think that this is the same man who cuffed you to your bed frame last night that’s now brimming with embarrassment. “She likes being outside,” he grumbles.

“I know she does but I thought the front yard would be as far as she would go,” you sigh, unable to help your smile. “Fine, Ryo. She can join us, but you better watch her like a hawk.”

“Promise, princess,” he agrees, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Your hickeys r’ showing, by the way.”

You shrug. “My makeup would come off in the water anyway if I tried to cover them and I know you like them,” you smirk. Something dark flashes in his eyes, his free hand that isn’t supporting Ducati in his arms reaching out to rest on your waist. His fingers tighten, his grip sinking into the plush of your skin as he pulls you into him.

“I like when people know you’re mine,” he purrs, eyes lidded. 

“That’s good, because now,” you begin, a gleam in your eye that he recognizes all too well, “people will know that I’m with the big burly biker and his tiny little kitty,” you tease with a grin as you push off of his chest, adjusting your duffle bag over your shoulder. “Come on, you big sucker. Let’s go to the beach.”

Of course, you’ve seen the videos and stories of men who didn’t want a pet later becoming said pet’s best friend, but you could never have imagined that would be your hardened and often cold husband. Especially given that when you had discussed getting a pet, he wanted a big dog like a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd.

Like many other times over the course of your life, he surprises you at every turn as you find him in the kitchen pouring himself a bowl of Cheerios with Ducati atop his shoulders. Another time, you find him doing pushups in your bedroom with the cat laying on his back, earning a raised brow. On rare occasions, he even calls both of you ‘his girls’.

Turns out, Sukuna is a cat guy. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it means you’re not Ducati’s favorite.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

❦ a/n ; was feeling inspired since i adopted my cat a year ago tomorrow and couldn't help but think this would suit this sukuna really well <3 as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are super super appreciated <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist to be added. 18+ only, age must be visible on blog.

@toffeebrat @gojodickbig @4acoffee @billiondollarworth @qyuin

@bxnfire @jayghostedu @favvkiki

writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune.

[reidmania]

inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

<>

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from dr.spencerreid@gmail.com at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

[mayasaurusss]

Hello, I really liked the way you write about Jinx, can you please write about how femme! the reader and Isha fall into a trap and as a result, while protecting Isha, the reader is injured and Jinx goes into her killer mode (you don’t have to write if you don’t want to) you can just write aftercare if you want

A helping hand

A/N: and here it's finally done! I could have made this oneshot quicker and shorter but then I got chaught up in writing it... and I woke up eight days later with this in my drafts😂. I don't ususally like how I handle stories, but I think that this one turned out pretty good. As mentioned in another post, it's very heavily plot driven and it's a wopping eleven pages worth of writing. My grammar, as always, might not be the top gamma. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Also this was mixed with something someone suggested on ao3!

Contains: female reader, violence, murder, mentions of saliva and vomiting, hurt and comfort, very heavily plot driven, happy ending with a happy family. Lenght: 6k/ 11 pages.

The limited air inside the vent makes you choke on your breath, chemicals and smoke filling your lungs and hollowing your brain. A loud sound echoes inside the metal hull, alerting every one of your senses. "Isha! Be careful!" you whisper-yell at the kid, who's crouching in front of you, placing her hat back on.

She just huffs in response, rolling her eyes before continuing her tour inside Zaun's vents. Isha has not been too fond of you since you entered her life; one reason could be that she thought she had to compete with you for Jinx's attention. The other reason, maybe, is that you were from topside. Piltover, The City of Progress. The city who exploited and hurt the poor citizens of the Undercity. Avid hands commanding from atop marble skyscrapers, grinning smiles sucking away the air of the lanes.

It's no wonder you're not Isha's favorite; Sevika too seemed to have a disdain for you, either because of your privileged position or for the way Jinx was distracted and dreamy when you were near.

To ingratiate yourself into Isha's favours and to make it at least somewhat pleasant for both of you to be near each other, you agreed to follow her in a walk through the lanes.

Jinx had invited you into her own private lair, after much convincing on her part. One day, she just swept you up and brought you down with her, making you walk through fissures, alleys and neon lit streets.

"You should have a tour of The Lanes, y'know, to learn how life's like down here" a flicker of a spark reflecting in her goggles as she made some of her obscure machine-thingies. "So give me one" you said, prompting Jinx to hum in thought. "I am busy today, and Sev' is too. Besides, I don't think you'll enjoy each other's company" she glanced at Isha, who was drawing Stinkmaw on her notebook. "You'll just have to settle for Isha" the kid propped her head up at the mention of her name, already looking with stars in her eyes at Jinx, not aware of your previous conversation. "What do you say Isha? Want to have fun with your new friend? Give her a tour of the Undercity?", Isha sized you from head to toe with a snarl on her lips, eyes moving between you and Jinx while her face became more and more agitated. "Come on, she's not that boring" Jinx moved back to her work, sparks flying and lit up her face, "I should know". Your face grew hot with her words, remembering what happened between you two just weeks prior. Isha gave a disgusted 'ew', before Jinx turned her head to watch the kid, a shadow of anger in her eyes. "No excuses! Come on, just go around a bit, become friends!".

"Jinx I, I don't think this is a wise idea. I mean, Isha is just a kid: what if something happens? I-" Jinx interrupted you, her voice almost lost between the screeching sounds of metal scraps flickering sparks between each other. "You'll both be fine. Isha is a smart kid, she'll get out of any situation. As for you..." she turned to you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "...will you be able to keep up with her?".

'No, not at all' you answer to her mental image, struggling to keep your pace behind Isha. The kid is fast inside these tunnels, and your body is not accustomed to their narrow spaces and to the flow of smoke and waste. The metal feels light and shaky under your weight, giving you the impression that at the slightest of pressure, you will sink beneath and break your ribs into the concrete of just another of Zaun's alleys. You steady on, carefully applying your weight where each border of the metal tubes meet, following the shadow of Isha.

After what feels like ages, you finally spot the end of a tunnel, light shining on the dirty buildings giving it a green hue. Isha crawls towards it, leaving you behind in the dusty tunnels, prompting you to follow her quickly. The kid has already jumped in the street below, adjusting her hat on, turning her back to you while she begins to walk away. You take in a deep breath, calculating the height of your jump, before falling messily on the concrete.

"Ack, shit" Isha gives you a dirty look, "What?". She just rolls her eyes, before continuing on, not waiting for you. The Undercity is just what you expected: crowds of people fill it's street, smoking and squaring you up; sellers shout to lure in buyers, presenting their merch of metal husks, hundreds of different flavours of tobacco and pieces of meat that you'd rather not know from what they came from. At the far corners, gang groups threaten and push against each other, their blades glinting with a malicious look. The streets are lit by bright neon signs, filled with all possible smells and gasses, overcrowded to the point that you're short of breath. Distantly, you can hear the sound of machinery evermoving, of water and air and of shipments departing from shore. The city itself beats and pumps, like a living heart.

Everything is suffocating; too loud, too much. And what's worse is, everyone knows that you don't belong. Their eyes are envious, angry, a dangerous hate barely hidden beneath their scleras. Hell, Isha, the kid who is known to have a kind heart, can barely hide it. For a moment, too caught up in your mind and it's worries, you miss Isha turning around, entering a dark hallway. You follow her blue locks until you're far from people, now only surrounded by high walls and some couples making out in a corner. On one wall there are signs of damage: claws and dents and what looks to be a... strange green goop staining the bricks, along with scraps of metal of an exoskeleton.

You find Isha sitting at the corner where the street opens, back against the wall. You are not too sure what she is doing: after all, she has proved to be rather uninterested in you. What you don't realize, not at first anyway, is that she had run through the crowd into the alley to lure you away from that noisy hell so you'd have time to get used to it. Sliding down next to her, your clothes drag down the dirt and dust of years behind them. Silence feels heavy above your head, the distant sounds of the crowd the only thing keeping you at least a bit sane.

Isha has found a pastime in rolling the hem of her hat on the ground, trying to make a perfect spin with it. The sounds of metal against concrete screech inside the hallway, attracting more than just one pair of eyes. You can feel Isha's reluctance to begin so close to you, probably thinking to herself that it was a mistake waiting for you. When the silence feels too heavy, then you finally speak. "Isha...listen" the hat spinning stops abruptly, it's hem catched between Isha's thumb and index finger. "I know you don't like me" she's surprised that you decided to face the problem right away; it's not something your people are known for. "You've made it all too clear these past days. I know you are wary of me; I know the Undercity is wary of us". The kid's eyes are now on you, studying, squaring you up, detecting any lies that you may hide under your sweet words.

"But... I am not my city. I know what you have been through and I am..." you falter for a moment, thinking that you're starting to sound a little too guilty and invested in this, and that she may recognize this as insincere. "What I meant to say is... I would like to be your friend, if you want to".

Isha doesn't answer you right away, but you see a small smile spread on her lips. You breathe a sigh of relief at successfully bringing down her walls.

She jumps back up, extending her hand to yours, palm open and a curious smile on her face. You take it, careful to not push your weight down on her before you too stand up.

"Come on, let's go home. This is good enough of a tour for me today", you take Isha's hand, ready to walk back to Jinx's, before something clutters inside the hallways, spreading its dull, hollow metal sound everywhere. The sound gets closer and closer, the item of its origin stopping its course at your feet. It's a cylinder shaped, stubby looking object; drawn on its surface are what you recognize to be Jinx's drawings, imitating a grinning gaping mouth of some evil creature. The red light you are so familiar with, the one which with Jinx blows her enemies to bits, is off.

"Well, look what we have here. The runt of that crazed bitch and Piltover's finest trash". From under the fuming tubes, a tall, scruffy looking man shows up. His hair is in a buzz cut style, thin muscles tightly attached to his bones, making him look starved and unkept. Black tattooed run over his forehead and cheeks, giving his sulken eyes even more of a crazed look. His goons all show up after him, exiting from their hidden spots. "What do you want?" you try to sound though, but the wavering of your voice only gives away your fears. Isha hides behind you, clutching tightly at the fabric of your pants.

"Oh we don't want anything from you. But you see..." he reaches to fish something out of his pants. You see it before he shows it: the hem of a knife. He slides the blade out of its sheath, glimmering dangerously in the dark. "...that darling bitch of yours took something from us. Well, to be honest, someone. Someone very dear to our group" you look in between you and Isha, then at the distance between you and the goons, trying to think of an escape.

"What do you mean? How do you know Jin-" he laughs creepily, a little too high for your tastes, echoing between the walls. "How do I know Jinx? Everyone knows Jinx!" he gesticulates with the knife still in his hand, dangerously close to hitting himself in the eye with it. He inspects the blade with something dark inside his thoughts, dulling the colour out of his eyes. With a creepy and disturbing smile on his lips, he runs his finger along the line, blood trickling down its shape. He seems to take a sick kind of pleasure from seeing red staining the metal. "I gotta give it to her though, she really aimed high: fucking someone from Piltover is something none of us would dirty ourselves trying to".

A vein under your skin pumps blood into your brain faster, giving you the prospect of an annoying headache, "Watch that tone-". "Never thought that that small, smart runt would become what she is today. Powder really outdid herself", you don't miss the cruel smirk which paints his lips, enjoying infecting your relationship with Jinx. "Powder?" the name doesn't ring a bell, and you're left with the man's ominous eyes peering into your heart, telling you that 'you don't know anything'.

"Oh look, trust runs so deep between you two that you don't even know her real name! Did you really think a parent could ever name their child 'Jinx'?" the rest of his group laughs and mocks you like their leader is, like a hoard of sheep follows their shepard. "I don't need to know her name. If there is a reason why Po- Jinx is keeping her real name a secret from me, I am not gonna pry it open from her" you can feel your heart pump blood faster into your veins, that small headache becoming stronger and stronger as anger takes hold of your actions. "Mhm? Just like she kept her family's deaths a secret?" those words feel heavy when he speaks them, clearly holding some truth behind them. You try to remain calm but anger and fear are affecting your judgment. "W-What? What the fuck are you talking about?" their ugly laughs fill your ears, only aiding in alimenting the fire at your heart. "After our little...fight, he changed. He started to hang out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things..." slowly, ever so slowly, all of them start to circle around you. One, two, four, six of them, sporting grinning smiles, stalking you like hyenas.

"But he would have been the same has always, even if he had become dumber than he was. He would have been alive too, at this moment, if Vander hadn't intervened". None of what this man is saying makes sense to you. He's talking to you, but his words are meant for others: for his friends, for Isha, for Jinx. You, once again, are reminded that you're not welcome here. In their eyes, hate and hunger swirl, creating a whirlwind that sucks away at your courage, "Just...what do you want from me?!".

"Jinx and that sister of hers took our friend from us. Our boss. Now-" with mastered precision, he makes the blade jump from his hands, now it's tip pointing towards the ground. Something that you can only describe as burning hatred and killing intent paints his features, before he screams a rallying cry, "It's our turn taking everything from her!".

That is enough for the whole lot of them to pounce. One moment, and they are all on you; punching, kicking, twisting your hair in their grasp, snarling and mocking. In the confusion you lose Isha, not being able to distinguish her blue locks in between all that green and grey. For a split second, after they consume their gloves on you, no one is holding you down. You take the occasion to slip away from their grasps, falling backwards into the opening street. You take a second to choose what to do, and as you run towards the crowd once again, following where you assume Isha went, a feeling of anger rises in your stomach. The sound of the busy street echoes, a distant reminder that you have a life to return to, but something tugs at your heart to look at them in the eyes. Blood pumps fast in your veins, alerting every muscle, every bone, every fiber that danger is near, you need to go, but your heart, brain, the pride you take in begin still alive overtakes your judgment. You stop to look at them, the prospect of a challenge in your eyes, of saying 'Look at me!' and incite them to follow 'I am still alive!'.

They look like ravenous beasts, hunched backs and gleaming eyes, angry snarls on their faces, hate coursing through their veins. The leader of the group, the scruffy looking one, fishes something from his back and places it on the bottom of his face: it's a mask, made with grey metal and sprayed with fake golden accents to give it a more classy look. On the side there's a circular opening with a single point in the centre. He takes a syringe and inserts it in the hole, pushing the top down and filling the hollow cavities of the mask with purple gasses. He takes in a deep breath, eyes rolling backwards, before his body goes through a strange change, twitching and moving like he had been shocked. When he looks back at you his eyes are a deep, neon pink, the same shade of colour that paints Jinx's eyes. He moves towards you, pushing and snarling at his friends like a dog with rabies, breaking their bones on the walls, before, with all the air in his lungs, screams, "I'm going to enjoy skinning that piltie's clean skin away from your body!".

You don't make it far before, with an uncanny precision, he throws his blade towards you like a spear, metal sinking inside of your left side, dangerously close to your kidney. A gasp leaves your body before you fall on the floor, blood oozing from the wound. Hundred of needles pierce at your flesh, blood paints the concrete and your mind fuses with the flesh of your brain. Then it all stops; you're back in the alley, cold spreading from the wound throughout your body, followed by a unbearable heat. The blade is snatched from your side, an ear shattering scream erupting from your throat. He is on top of you, already inching the knife to the base of your neck, planning to stab you there, wanting to see the life leaving your body in the most gruesome way possible. "I can't wait to see the look on your girlfriend when I am going to bring her the eyes of her most loved!".

"Bye bye, piltie" you brace yourself for your end; you can almost already feel the knife lodged in your throat, but nothing happens. You hear the sound of a metal hulk resonating in the hallway, before he is knocked down by something thrown with force against his face. You recognize it to be the exoskeleton of the arm you saw before, lying around. The rod which was the building foundation for its making has been thrown on the man's ugly bat-like nose, making him bleed red.

Isha stands behind you, still in launching position, before she runs over to you and tries to help you up. When you do, white behind your eyelids blinds you, pain making your head spin. He gets up again, an animalistic wild look in his eyes. He moves again, muscles hardened with purple veins running along them, drool falling down the space between the mask and his skin. Before he can assault you again, Isha throws something at him: the bomb he himself kicked before, the one Jinx had made, moves through the air, soon to be the second object to hit his ugly face today. He recognizes the object and pales when he sees a red light zipping faster and faster, its grinning mouth inching closer to him.

A colorful light shines on the walls, paint of blue and pink shades falling down like rain; sparks of fire following the natural course of an explosion, fading out of existence a moment later. You run with Isha, hand in hand, away from this horrid place. This time, you don't look back.

A trickle of sweat falls down Jinx's temple while her eyes are focused on connecting two tubes of plastic together. Electricity flows through them, sending sparks flying dangerously close to her skin, before they are connected by the metal snaps on each of their ends. Jinx smiles as her creation takes its first movements, loudly clapping two copper coloured, round, small discs together, before stopping once again. Her fingers twist the key positioned on its back and the mechanic monkey comes to life once again. When her work is finally done, she puts it next to the other one she made hours prior.

The one meant for Isha is coloured with golden accents and decorated with graffitis all over. When turned on, it quickly smashes the plates against each other and plays an off-tune punk song if the button on its right leg is pushed; its eyes are golden, mimicking Isha's own. The one meant for you is far softer than the first: soft shades of pastel mix together with Jinx's characteristic pink, swirling your colours together. Instead of plates, it has a small, roughly knitted red heart in its hands. The left eye shines bright pink, while the other mirror's yours. There are no graffiti on it, except for a small heart on its chest, one near 'your' eye and a 'Jinx' on its left side.

She can't wait to see the look on your eyes when you will see it. She could never quite well express affection like other people do, so giving you gifts was what she did best. Just as she dreams of your face, she hears quick, loud steps coming closer and closer to her. "If you are Caitlyin, I appreciate your obsession with me, but I am in the middle of-" she recognizes Isha's laboured breaths and your pained groans before she can finish the phrase. And when she turns around, her face pales and her blood freezes. Isha has a panicked look to her face, one that she had never seen before; and you? Sweat falls with heavy tears down your face, the shade of your skin so much paler than it usually is, making you look almost dead. Your hand is tightly clutched on your side, where your hand is stained with...blood?

In a fraction of a second, Jinx is on you, hands checking at every curve of your body, focusing on places you might be hurt, while she asks question upon question, filling the air with a sense of urgency. You can only describe the look in her eyes as pure dread. If you didn't groan with pain every few seconds, you'd think Jinx was the one to have gotten hurt. The next few minutes are a whirlpool of movements and colours, making you spill your lunch on the floor. Soft fabric meets your back, suddenly naked with only your bra to cover your chest. Blood oozes faster out of you and you can feel your conscience leaving. Nothing else besides the red on your skin and the blurred shades of blue and brown exists for you.

"...ont worry, I al... got m... sis...er out of ...ble". When after wetting your wound with water, Jinx presses gauze on your body, you are suddenly brought back to life, violently. It feels like someone is crushing with all their might on you, despite Jinx applying the right pressure to the wound. If someone were to walk in right now hearing your screams, they'd think you were begin murdered. After what finally feels like an eternity, you are lying again on her bed, almost lifelessly. You don't have time to answer Jinx's questions, before you fall into a deep slumber.

Half an hour passes by, and the world seems sealed in a bubble of silence. Nothing moves. nothing makes noise, nothing happens. The only thing that does make noise are the voices in Jinx's head, screaming loudly at her for having let you go alone. 'You should have been there', 'See what happens when you let people into your life?', 'She is hurt. She might die. It's your fault'.

Their loud screams are enough to make one go crazy, but despite how confused she is, Jinx finds a will in herself to speak, to silence them. With her hand, she nudges Isha, getting her attention, and mouths "What happened?".

Isha doesn't answer. Her eyes burn holes into the metal of the helix, bottom lip tightly sealed under her teeth, before something in her breaks. She rushes in Jinx's arms, hiding herself into her chest, crying until the tears are gone and her throat is raw. They stay together, tangled into one another, for a while, until their bodies are cold. "Isha, what happened?" Jinx repeats.

Isha gets up, running over Jinx's desk and returns with two different coloured pencils. On the ground she draws a scene: you and her, hand in hand, with frowning faces; behind you six grinning figures, one taller than the rest. Green splattered on the ground and high walls. Jinx recognizes this place immediatley; she's been there just a couple of weeks prior.

Walking to her desk, she grabs her trusted gun and more than a dozen of bullets. A deep, hateful scowl paints her features, eyes shining brighter than usual.

Tonight, the undercity shines and roars with fervor. Its lights shine bright and the shouts of its inhabitants brings it to life, beating strong, like the heart of a dragon. The city seems to sway in tandem with Jinx's white cape, almost bending to her will but also shielding her, hiding her in its crowds. This is home. This is all Jinx has ever known and ever will. She knows it's streets like the palm of her hand: where to leave her mark, the highest places she can reach from which she can put a bullet in between her enemies eyes, which vents and tunnels will take her back home.

She knows exactly where you had been hurt, and if her predictions are correct, they're waiting for her there. And she's gonna give them what they want. The allway is far too serene to be one of the city's main ways out to the perimeter where steel factories and shipments are. It's uncharacteristically quiet, and by Zaun's rules, that means danger.

Jinx steps on the green gooey substance, observing the dripping of your blood leading to the city's main street, and anger boils inside her at that view. The square is empty, except for a series of tubes and a pitfall to its left. Just as she thought, she begins to hear steps coming into her direction. They had been expecting her.

"If you weren't trying, and failing, to ambush me, I'd say you have a crush" the man behind her simply scoffs, his breath coming out ragged and metallic from under his mask.

Jinx turns around to see a tall man, breathing through what she recognizes to be a mask that henchmens of shady organizations wore to enhance their physical abilities. After a moment, she recognizes blood staining the man's pale skin, half of his left hand blown off, rudimental replaced with a metal prosthesis at the last minute. She can ignore that just fine, but the exposed muscle of his left cheek makes her want to puke. "Wow, and you're even more grotesque than I thought" a cruel anger swirls inside her eyes, her lips curling up in a snarl. "What? Were you so anxious to try to kill me that you couldn't even let your wounds heal?" he laughs at her words, men closing in on her much like they did hours prior to you.

"We were waiting for you, Powder" the mention of that name pangs at her heart. Subtly, she touches the top of her gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. "I figured. How do you know my name?" "A man can know much...if he is in the right place, at the right time" he falls silent when Jinx laughs at his words, anger making a vein in his head pop. "Damn. I thought you were pathetic already, but this whole 'supervillain' talk only makes you seem more of an ass than you already are" much like Jinx, he grabs the death of his knife. At the sign, his men form a half circle around the blue haired criminal, directly closing the only way out. "You won't talk all that shit after I sink my blade in your throat" she can't help but feel compassion for these poor bastards. Faintly, she can already feel their blood falling on her skin while putting bullets between their eyes. "I would like to see you try" she changes her body stance, right side facing them while she takes out her gun with her left hand, making a show of placing the bullets in. Unlike what she thought, they do not follow her; instead, the leader seems relaxed as ever. His dark eyes reflect hers and for a second Jinx can see a dangerous, maniacal glint in them and a cruel grin on his lips.

"Oh I did try, and succeeded, with your little piltie bitch-girlfriend" her breathing stops, heart missing a beat, and time seems to stop for a moment, before it all starts to spin again, faster and faster as she gets angrier and angrier. "You should have heard her screams. The sweetest I've ever heard" she imagines you, clutching at your side, tears in your eyes and spit falling off your mouth; begging for him to leave you alone, to let you go. His features are lost under a black veil and painted over with a red open mouthed smile and tight eyes, not unlike the monsters that she has to fight with every night, as he raises the crimson blade and-.

"Don't you fucking dare" her throath feels raw when she speaks, almost as if she's spewing pure black hatred with each word. "Or what? What are you going to do?" 'He thinks he's the shit, huh?', she thinks, loading the storage to the brim and finally raising the barrel of her gun to aim on his forehead. "I am going to enjoy blowing your brains out"

'No one hurts the people I love'.

The next few seconds are a blur of colours and movement. Her body moves before her mind can understand what is going on. She ducks under something coming at her, kicking at the figure and sending them flying a few feet away from her. Someone pulls at her braids and she yelps, momentarily confused; in a fraction of a second, she blows their hand off, crouching and punching in the face a second figure. The blood on the ground, spilling from the screaming man gives everything a shape again and she's back to the alley. Three men are down, two unconscious and one debilitated. The remaining ones look at her up and down, before the leader nudges them, kicking their shins.

One of them takes a metal rod from his side and swings wildly at Jinx, paying no attention to where he hits. She dodges him with no effort and when he stops momentarily to rest his arm, she knocks his weapon from his hands and hits him in the neck with it, white replacing the colour of his eyes. The other, after seeing the bodies of who used to be his companions, runs away, leaving his leader behind; but before he can make it far, a bullet runs fast through his chest and he falls to the floor, lifeless.

He is the last one standing. "Heh, you call yourself a leader, but you couldn't even save your men". His teeth grind harshly against each other, sending jolts of pain through his mouth, "Shut the fuck up".

But Jinx doesn't. No, she's going to enjoy torturing the life out of this fucker like he did to you. "You didn't even lift a finger. I didn't know Zaun could have such a coward walking through its streets".

He finally snaps, spit flowing out of his mouth as he screams, staining the mask inside "I said shut up!". He breathes in the chemical Jinx is so familiar with, huffing purple clouds out of the mask with a metallic sound. Once again, he feels the rush of the substance in his lungs, blood circling small purple bubbles throughout the body, strengthening his muscles and blanking his mind. But this time, his body starts to twitch and shake, slipping out of his control.

The heart beats faster, the lungs lose their air and move erratically, blood flows freely through his body and bones morph, stretching and breaking and strengthening. His muscles cannot be sustained by the bones anymore, and he falls to the floor. The space inside his ribcage feels tighter, his lungs can only provide so much until finally, his body stops changing and he can stand up, much taller than Jinx now.

The blue haired criminal looks incredibly unimpressed with her opponent's new shape, her eyes studying his moments and planning the next few seconds. That grotesque creature lunges, pushing his whole weight on the top of his body, falling messily when Jinx dodges him. She ducks under a clawed swing, rolling through the space between his legs; then, while he is confused and looking for her, aims at his neck.

The bullet lodges itself into the skin, remaining snugly fit between flesh. The scream that leaves him could have woken up the dead. His nails dig into his neck, trying desperately to yank the bullet out, but to no avail. He turns and turns, like a cat chasing its tail, before dizziness gets to him and he falls to the floor, spilling saliva all over the concrete. When he looks around once again, he is face to face with Jinx's gun, staring at the black hole of the barrel. "You made a mistake crossing me, today. Let this be a lesson" she tilts the gun until it's flat against his forehead. He is not capable of forming words anymore, they die at the base of his throath, leaving only emptiness behind. For a moment, she can see in his eyes something that resembled her, many years ago: a scared animal, one that does not understand what their fate will be. But when her mind reminds her of how viciously he attacked you, and how you are lying in her bed, with no assurance that you'll wake up, anger bubbles once again behind her eyes, clouding her thoughts.

"I'm sorry" is all that he hears, before his body falls to the floor, life leaving his eyes.

Her heart feels cold, as well as her body and mind. Jinx, in her own kind of weird way, is already trying to make peace with the fact that, once she comes back home, you might be gone. All too often in her life she had to come to terms with the death of her loved ones, and all too often, she was directly involved with their demise. She can already picture it: you on the bed, blood staining your clothes and the mattress, Isha on her knees, crying her heart out. She, coming home, seeing your dead body lying on what used to be your little shared creek, shielded by the world, falling to her knees and her heart finally giving out to pain, soon to follow you.

From the crack inside the wall, she can spot the helix of her home, the one she'll soon walk over to reach you. She tries to move, but to no avail: her body doesn't let her. Her muscles are reduced to mush, her legs feel like lead and her heart heaves on her rib cage so much that she had to bend down, clutching at her chest to try and ignore that pain. She could stay here forever, stalling time to this single minute, winding it back over and over and over again, all for the purpose of pretending she's still with you, back in your apartment in Piltover, laying naked on the bed with serene smiles on your faces.

But she can't. Even if she could stop time, right here and now, what could she do? Nothing would change. You'd still be dead, she'd still be heartbroken, the bed would still be cold on your side.

She slips inside the crevice, body molding to its shape, before she is face to face with the entrance to her home. She's so lost in her dread and fear that, for a moment, she doesn't hear the sound of laughter from the inside. When her mind recognized the sound, the pitch of the voice she so longed to hear, tears prickled at her eyes and hope filled her heart. She rushes towards the sound, almost tripping down the helix and falling to her death.

There you are. Laying on the bed, laughing weakly as Isha gesticulates and shouts loudly, imitating some sort of monster. Every little light inside her home has been placed near you, probably by Isha, and lifts your figure with a myriad of colorful shades. You look like a living painting to her.

You can't even process seeing her when she's already on you, touching you everywhere, checking your pulse, grabbing onto your legs to assure herself, to make sure that you...

"Are you... really alive?". You could crumble right here and now under those tearful eyes of hers, so soft and beautiful, looking almost powder blue. You stretch your arms to reach down to her, hugging her close to you; "I am, I am". Jinx takes a moment to process your hug and your words; and when she does, when she's certain that you are alive, that you are okay, her walls crumble away.

She pulls you down towards her, wanting to reciprocate the hug, but impatience gets the better of her and instead pulls herself on the bed, halfway reaching you. Her head rests on your belly, tears staining your clothes when she feels your hand on her back. "I thought-! I thought you-" her words die in her throath when she feels your fingers cupping at her cheek, pulling her to rest on her knees and look into your eyes. "I know, I know. I am okay".

Tears fall freely down her cheeks once again, her bottom lip wavering before she takes refuge in your body, hiding her tears on your lap. "I am so glad! I am so glad...".

Once her tears dry, she pushes herself to look at you, eyes puffy and red. "You are okay" she says, and you're about to assure her once again, but something tells you that she's really talking to herself. She climbs on the bed with you, quickly resting her head on your chest. You can't help but smile at her, ready to cuddle together when you realize you've let someone out of the picture. Isha looks at you both with those big eyes of her, pouting. She knows exactly how to push your buttons.

"Come on kid, get in" come Jinx's words, quickly followed by Isha tangling herself in between your bodies and closing her eyes, sleep already overtaking her. "Man, she sure takes a lot of space" you chuckle, placing your hand on Isha's head and stroking her locks between your fingers, hearing a small contented sigh from her. "Yeah, but she deserves it". A heavy silence fills the space, one that you usually pair up with tranquillity, but who you quickly realize is loud for your lover. "Jinx... I am okay" stopping them from screaming in her ears is hard, but when you are with her, they vanish off of existence. Your voice brings her back to reality, as well as reminding her that you have gotten hurt. Letting herself relax after the storm is something she's not used to. "I know" but she can try.

Starting this conversation will be a pain, you think to yourself, but you need to tell her.

"...He told me your real name, Jinx. And, what you did". Quick snapping sounds, mixed with hushed voices and distant screams fill her head in a second, getting louder by the second. She doesn't find in herself the strength to answer, too tired from the day's events; but nevertheless, listens. She leans on the bed, eyes dark and attentive. The scent of your skin fills her nose and she braces herself for your next words. "But...I don't care".

What?

"I don't know what you've been through, but... I don't need to know. You will tell me if you want to". It all stops. Every sound, every shout or whisper, every heartbeat or pulse of electricity. It seems, for a moment, that all becomes white and quiet, before the world starts to spin again. You feel her strong fingers push you more towards her, one cold hand under your clothes, right where your wound is. "Thank you toots, that means a lot".

Less than twenty seconds of silence later, she's already pestering you with her worries again, "Does it hurt? Do I need to give you som-" you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours. Normally, you would be a little annoyed by her continuous train of words, but she needs to be reassured. She needs to hear it from you, how many times it takes. "I am okay. I just need you here with me".

That seems enough to let her finally bear down her worries and she quickly rests on the bed, eyelids heavy and a yawn in her throath. "...I made you a monkey...gift" she slurrs over her words, already slipping in and out of conciousness. "Oh really?". "Yeah...". You too are about to follow her shortly, and before you let sleep overtake you, you reach behind and place a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Jinx" she smiles, catching your lips in a quick peck and pushing her nose in the crevice of your shoulders; "Goodnight toots".

Bonus ----------------

When Sevika came home that night, after her usual gambling and drinking out in Zaun's bar, she certainly did not expect to find the messily tangled body of limbs that were you, Jinx and Isha.

As quietly as she possibly can, she takes the chair Jinx sits on while doing her evil scientist machineries and sits next to your bed. Placing a cigar in between your lips and lights it, blowing the smoke away in the opposite direction. She looks back at the bed, multiple coloured lights shading your peacefully sleeping figures. She stays silent for a moment, before she crouches on her knees and shakes the tip of the cigar, firing crumbling pieces of tobacco down on the floor. "They do look pretty cute".

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: fluffiest fluff edition

I've just been CONSUMING so many jjk fanfics... here are the softest fluffiest fic recommendations since I think we all need it right now. This list is in no particular order – there's so many talented writers out there! These ones just made me MELT extra hard. Mostly no smut, I just needed to be held.

gojo satoru

☆ only you by Kaiseriin [A03: mini series] [status: unknown] [Cursed speech!reader] Other than Gojo, not many people understand the sign language you use to communicate as a cursed speech user. When some students from Kyoto arrive, one tries to learn so he can get closer to you.

☆ summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding [A03: long fic!][status: ongoing]

"how cruel was fate? how much had he sinned in his past life, for the woman he loved to belong to his best friend? how little did god love him?"

in which gojo satoru learns that emotions are not weaknesses but consolations; and geto suguru realizes that he's always been a little too late for everything. because the furthest distance is an inch away, and the furthest thing from truth is "just friends".

☆best of luck. by reinerispretty [A03: one shot! part of a mini series] [status: unknown] In which Gojo Satoru shows up unannounced, twice.

☆Ah, you were both equally idiotic by Hiroka [A03: mini series] [status: unknown]

4 times others realized something was going on between Gojo and you, and 0 times you both realized it.

[Oneshots from the Old Beats Cinematic Universe]

☆ For A God, Shopping Is a New Adventure by Bun_sun [AO3] [status: on going!] [Baker!reader]

“Would you like anything else?” “Actually, yeah.” He flashes you a grin that only promises trouble, pushing his sunglasses down with a way too exaggerated flirty expression. “Can I get your number too?” “Haha, really funny Gojo. Now, I have more clients so...” But he's already getting his phone out, as if he hasn't listened to a single word you've said. “...Oh, you're for real.” ~ ~ ~ ~ Reader owns a small cafe with their own baked goods. Gojo comes in one day, and absolutely falls in love with their pastries (and with them).

☆ I Want to Kiss You / キスしたい by arminsumi [A03][status: unknown]

You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

You've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. There's seems to be romantic tension between you and Suguru, too.

geto suguru

it's so hard to find suguru fics without him being used as a plot device for gojo

☆ gentle glow / deep thought by waffiez [AO3: one shot] [status: completed] "I thought about you, you know." Despite the softness of his voice, it cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere profoundly and made your heart skip a beat. "Is that so?" "It is." ☆☆☆ in which you awake to your best friend suguru asleep at the edge of your bed, having returned from a lengthy mission and only really wanting to see you.

☆ unnamed drabble by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: drabble] [status: completed]

comfy fluff w sleepy needy sugu <33)

☆ Wash It Away by @shadowsandshapes [A03/tumblr: drabble][status: completed]

Sometimes you forget Geto is just a guy. But then he shows a sense of vulnerability that surprises you. After a particularly emotionally draining battle, you run him a warm bath and take care of his aches. ☆ Wisteria and Ciabatta by @hayakawalove [A03/tumblr: mini fic!][status: completed, chapter 2 has smut!]

Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You. ☆ the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: long oneshot!] [status: completed]

bonus!

☆ Digest Your Feelings (DYF) – First Years! by @whalesforhands [A03/tumblr: part of a longer series of fics] [status: completed] new classmates, new life, new friends(?). a look into the life of the dyf au characters in their first year.

[upon-sunflower-trails]

use me how you need, so long as i'm your favorite toy

choi su-bong (thanos) x reader | oneshot | 1698 words

warnings: nsfw, non-explicit sex (at least not imo), toxic relationship, VERY brief salesman x reader

work below the cut!!

It had been like this since the first night these games had started.

You were either bent over the bathroom sink or slammed against the door of a stall while your fellow players were all doing decidedly more useful things, such as fearing for their lives in these death games or catching up on much needed sleep.

It all started after being met by some man in a suit, purring that you could play more games to win money as you stood there, holding your stinging cheek as tears welled up in your eyes, matching the warmth pooling in your abdomen at the pain. You took the business card from him with shaky hands and flushed cheeks, dialing the number on the back as soon as humanly possible.

The first game had been Red Light, Green Light. You remembered the way you scoffed at the short-haired man who rushed ahead of everyone else, shouting into his jacket sleeve about people dying and staying careful. You murmured jokes to the long-haired man next to you, who seemed a tad bit more anxious than you, but still laughed along. You found a morbid sort of thrill in the danger of such a game, even once it was revealed Player 456 was correct as shots rang out through the large room and blood decorated the sandy field.

"Guess he was telling the truth. Thought he was on something, honestly," you snarked to the man next to you, who revealed his name to be Nam-gyu. He laughed, albeit a bit shakily, as you both continued to make your way closer to the finish line.

Your interest was piqued by the energetic man with purple hair, who decided to push the people ahead of him. While you knew deep down it was cruel and unusual, you couldn't help but meet his gaze and return the grin he shot you. You really should have been disgusted by him and his actions, blood now decorating his face. But you really never had much self respect to begin with.

After the game, with you and Nam-gyu sticking close to each other as you passed the finish line, both cracking jokes even as shots rang out and more bodies dropped, you noticed the man from before still staring at you. He'd approached you both, more comfortable with Nam-gyu than you (as the two had been conversing before the games had started), before asking for your name with a smirk.

You'd given it without hesitation. "What about you? Seems from all those people begging for your picture like you're famous, but I don't keep up with celebrities." You tried to act disengaged as you straightened out your jacket, wiping some of the blood that had splattered onto your hands on your tracksuit pants. He feigned shock, bringing a tattooed hand to his chest. He tried to reply before Nam-gyu cut him off.

"Really, Y/N? Famous rapper Thanos doesn't ring a bell for you?" He patted him on the shoulder as the man—you guessed he went by Thanos, which made you hold back a snort—hit him lightly on the chest.

"I've got this, Nam-su." He smirked at you again, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the long-haired man groaning, 'Nam-gyu.' He wrapped an arm around your waist, his proximity dizzying as you noticed his blown-out pupils. "Why don't we get to know each other, huh?"

It was after voting to leave had taken place that night, when it seemed as though the pills he'd taken had worn off, that he crept to your side as you lazily slid into bed, teasing that he needed a new addiction while he was in this place. You had initially rolled your eyes at his cheesiness, but you weren't known for your strong resolve. The blood on his face and clothes was only adding to you giving up the last piece of self-respect you had left.

You were never quite sure how the two of you convinced the guards to let you out after lights-out. Maybe the miniscule logical part of you secretly wished they would close the slats and deny your requests. The overpowering irrational part of you knew that if that had happened, it would only lead to limbs tangled together under the sheets of the bunk.

The first night had been painful, your pleasure clearly not at the forefront of his mind as he simply used you against the stall—such a thing that would leave any normal person dry and refusing to return. Unfortunately for you, you were obviously not a normal person. The pace he set was brutal, your body living proof of that as the markings slightly peeked out above your tracksuit collar. You weren't sure how long you both stayed there, slick with sweat and panting in time with the rhythm he set, but you didn't care. Despite his temporary sobriety, you felt as though you were at your highest as he degraded and berated you.

Even when he pressed a rough kiss against your lips and muttered some half-ass declaration of love, you knew he was simply using you. You didn't care. That was how you'd gotten into these games in the first place, you let others treat you as a stepping stone to get what they wanted, as long as they gave you a sliver of attention. Call it a fucked-up childhood, mental instability, you didn't care—how could you, when he was holding you so closely as he came down from his temporary high and muttering sweet nothings as your back was pressed against the door?

It had grown into your nightly routine. After you teamed up in the six-legged pentathlon with Thanos, Nam-gyu, and some other players who you hadn't bothered to learn the names of because they weren't him, he was pressed against you as the guard let both of you through to use the bathroom, begging to see if your skills could be used for things besides gong-gi. Obviously, you had indulged him, even when he called you all sorts of mean names while hissing through his teeth because of your hands.

During each vote, you couldn't care less whether or not you were going home. You wore the blue circle on your chest with pride, preening when you would return to the side of players desperate for the prize as Thanos cooed how loyal you were, even if he treated you more like a pet than a lover when everyone else was watching. Nam-gyu was the only other person who spoke to you, seeing as everyone else was too scared to get close to the person who that menace had claimed.

It was only after Mingle that he had truly fucked you with some sort of emotion, when in his drugged-out state he had forgotten to pull you into a room with him and his other teammates, forcing you to be dragged along with Player 380 in a rush. You hadn't even cared, reasoning to yourself that Thanos had better things to worry about than you, even as hot tears streamed down your face when the girl laden with piercings asked you if you were alright. 

You remembered how he pulled you into him with desperation after the doors had opened again, trying his best to joke through his anxieties as he acted as though he knew Player 380 would ensure your safety. But after the vote that night, even after you had voted "O" without a second thought and bounded towards him with a smile on your face, he stuck to you like glue. He'd ripped you out of your bunk with a newfound desperation during lights-out, urgent to get to the restroom you considered your second home as he pressed you against the sink, hands shaky.

"Thought I'd really lost you this time, shit," he panted out, voice barely above your noises of pleasure. When you practically screamed out his name, he quickly corrected you as he stopped suddenly. "Su-bong." His tone was serious, with his expression matching. You felt your blood run cold, having never seen him in such a state. "Please, my real name—Call me Su-bong."

You swore his grip on your hips was tighter than ever before, especially as your cries of his real name echoed throughout the empty room, burying himself into you as he finally finished what he had come to do. That was usually all it ever was, with Su-bong using your body and you being able to completely get off on it. But not tonight, it seemed, as he knelt in front of you while kissing your thighs. You weren't used to such intimacy from him, or anyone for that matter. Your face burned as he looked up at you through his lashes, eyes glassy. The pleasure he brought as he finally used his mouth between your thighs was foreign to you, something you had never felt before. Your climax was different from any you had ever had, fingers tangled in his hair as you realized this was what was supposed to be normal. He held you close as you came down from ecstasy, pressing soft kisses to your lips. It was out of the ordinary for him, adding to the tender words he was mumbling against your pulse.

"I won't let anything happen to you, baby, not again." He gently sucked at your neck, the bruises blooming beneath his lips a painful reminder of his ownership over you. "Don't know what I'd do in here without you. I'll keep you safe, promise."

You knew his promises were empty. You didn't care. You knew everything would go back to normal in the morning, once he slipped the colorful pills past his lips while chuckling with Nam-gyu, caressing your side as he ignored anything you tried to add to the conversation. You didn't mind it. He paid attention to you once the lights were off and no one was around to see, and that was enough for you. It always was.

He was using you, and you didn't care; he was using everyone. You were his favorite, at least for now, and that was all that mattered.

[ruruumin]

hi!! I came across you and I thought your work is really amazing!! This is my first time asking something like this haha but for everything a first :) I really love figure skating and I was wondering if you could make a oneshot or any headcannons of the reactions of blue lock characters haha (mostly rin nagi and sae)! (sorry if I made some mistakes, English is t my first language)

ice, ice, baby!

₊˚ ᗢ blue lock various x figure skater! reader.

⤷ what kind of relationships rin, sae, and nagi (separate) would be in.

itoshi rin

“if you’re going to do something, do it with your entire heart.”

rin met you when he was only ten years old. you were his next door neighbor with a feverish dream to become the best figure skater in the world. although it may have been one of the loftiest dreams anyone might hear, he believed in you the same way you did for him. and together, he will see you perform all over the country, with him in arms waiting.

so when a cold rainy day comes and the two of you were walking home together under a shared umbrella, he wanted to say something. but you beat him to it. standing in front of your door, you turned around and smiled, saying only two things: i will be leaving to russia tomorrow morning to train with a new coach. 

this first part came as a no brainer to him, of course you would leave. just as sae did a few months ago, you were beginning to flap the wings you were blessed with. however, the second part was what kept him on his toes, heart punching up to his throat: and i love you, rin.

after departing in the morning, he would stay up late to watch your performances on television. even when he had early practice, it was complete habit to see you on screen. your presence on the ice was unmatched by many of your cohorts in russia. cold and calculative, yet free flowing. like a confident stream you graced the fields with a polished play. alongside a perfectly timed quad axel, it placed you right at the top of the world.

the ultimate power couple. when you’re at the kiss and cry, you’ll say his name to the camera before blowing a kiss. meanwhile, whenever he scores a goal, he’ll raise his fist in a catching motion, bringing it up to his lips as he hides his faint smile behind his hand. your performances will always be dedicated to each other and it drives the press mad (rightfully so). 

when you return to japan, he’s the first person that you see at the airport. in only a matter of seconds, with his extremely long legs and speed, he is wrapping his arms around you tightly, inhaling your scent as he lays his head on your shoulder. 

he would immediately take you back to all your favorite places. during your time away, he had taken a multitude of pictures and sent you dozens of instagram reels of cafes. now that you were here in his arms, it made going to them all the more real (or maybe not, with you sitting in front of him, enjoying a mont blanc and latte, it feels like the perfect dream). 

sleeping in the same bed as him had never felt any better. while you knew him to be a drooler, you would have never expected him to be clingier than a koala. he is keeping you flushed against his chest the entire night. if you think about getting water, he will follow you with arms tangled with yours. 

itoshi sae

“i’ll carve my name into ice while you all watch in awe.” 

the only other person with the same amount of arrogance as him was you, a rebellious teenager he found on the streets of spain. you tried to pickpocket him on his first day in the country. instead of reporting you to the police, he asked you one simple question that changed the trajectory of your life: if you had the chance to do anything, what would it be?

some people viewed you as a lost cause in the figure skating world. having started extremely late compared to your other peers, your name was rubbish and caked in dirt. however, it never stopped sae from coming to see you after every practice, watching as you practiced your spins and salchows underneath the dim lights of the arena with a coach he’d hired. to him, you were a diamond in the rough that just needed a push.

he didn’t think much about your relationship until it was late at night. you were walking back with him to a hotel, face covered with masks to avoid intruding paparazzi. it started off with small talk, like family and friends (you learned he had a very cocky but sweet brother back in japan), but it quickly diverged into something more intimate that had the two of you walking into his room with intertwined pinkies.

when it came time to perform in the qualifying rounds, you had plunged the stadium with wails and tears. overcoming the country’s beloved skater by a wide margin, you stood above everyone, head raised high as you pointed up to the cameras, hardening your gaze as you mouthed sae’s name. you must have known he was watching from the corners of the locker room. 

the world of figure skating was going to change with you, a new generation skater that rose from nothing. 

sae feels immense pride when it comes with you. even though there were many curve balls thrown in your direction, whether it be from bad press or his persistent fanbase, the smile you hid beneath the covers reassured him that you were going to stick it out. nothing in the world could compare to the happiness you felt when you were with sae. because with him, you knew you could do anything.

dates typically consist of fancy meals or sightseeing trips. he isn’t particularly drawn to these activities himself, but what motivates him is the thought of treating you to something new. whether it be a pretty dessert from down the street that costed an arm and a leg, or seeing the stars as you walk along the beach, he’ll dedicate a huge chunk of his income to letting you see the world in its fullest.

matching photocards on the back of your phone cases. sae uses a clear one so he can flip his phone around and stare at you before every game. while some think he’s admiring your smile (as beautiful as it is), he’s actually sees you as the perfect rival to his games. although you were both in different sports, the two of you constantly pushed each other to your limits, showing the world what it means to be the very best. 

nagi seishiro

“there is no point in anything if you aren’t going to have fun.” 

he wasn’t interested in figure skating until he came across one of your performances on youtube. it was really early into middle school when he started watching you. one of the reasons why he started was because you skated to a lot of his favorite songs from video games he liked. the second reason was because you looked like you were having fun. 

unlike most figure skaters he’s seen, you made the sport look enjoyable (he thinks everyone else looks extremely constipated when they’re too focused). with a beautifully confident smile, you danced across the ice, performing triple axels and a perfect biellmann spin. you skated as if you truly loved this sport, and this was the selling point for him (maybe this is when he started to be called a certified fanboy).

when he arrived to blue lock, the first thing he wanted to win back was his phone so he could keep up with your recent uploads. even when you aren’t posting something figure skating related, your miniature q&a sessions were entertaining enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night, much to reo’s dismay (he wanted to sleep early for once).

the best thing reo had gifted him were a pair of tickets to see you perform at one of the biggest skating rinks in the country. nagi was almost shaking in his seat in excitement, eyes wider than saucers when you stepped into the arena with the prettiest outfit known to man. you blew kisses and waved to the audience, giving them your signature smile. you suddenly stopped in your tracks to deliver a long kiss in nagi’s direction, something that sent him into an early cardiac arrest.

your relationship with him blossoms after seeing him at the local convenience store. the two of you had awkwardly reached for the same cup noodle. even though you were dressed in a simple, oversized black hoodie and a mask that hid half of your face, he easily recognized you by the sound of your voice. nagi’s phone would have dropped to the ground if it wasn’t for you catching it midway. when the screen lights up with a picture of you as his wallpaper, you smile and type in your number, throwing his phone back to him as you take the cup noodle and leave.

you and him would text consistently. after every practice he would immediately rush over to his phone to see if you had left any messages. expect a lot of back and forth photos. nagi’s pictures consisting of things he saw that reminded him of you while you sent him photos of yourself at practice or a recent choreograph. 

imagine how shocked your youtube fanbase is when you show up with your 6’3 boyfriend who barely shows up on camera because hes too tall for your tripod. you’re teaching him how to ice skate and although he started as a wobbly giraffe, he easily picked up a lot of tricks. he might not be the best at doing jumps but his footwork was impeccable (you like to tease him about switching careers but he lazily replies with his face in your shoulder about how much work it’ll be). 

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[xoxolilixx]

❤︎𝙇𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩❤︎

𝙃𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙭 𝙗𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤 𝙜𝙛!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - Hobie finds out the real reason for you being popular around headquarters, and his honored to fix the problem.

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - SMUT...with plot. A bit of sexism, name calling (whore, tramp), pet names, virginity taking, oral, unprotected sex(WRAP IT UP), crying

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - this is based on my Hobie brown x bimbo!gf oneshot, but it's not a part two or anything of that nature, but if you want to go back and read that, you can find it here. Anywho, I hope you guys like this story❤️😘

Hobie wasn't a chatter, not even close, but ever since you and him became a thing, he tried to make himself a lot less unapproachable. Instead of sporting a serious, straight-face and expression 24/7, he carried a soft smirk most of the time. The difference sounded small, but honestly it made him seem a lot nicer. More people started conversations with him when they saw him, he was let in on topics that no one bothered to talk to him about before. Topics like you.

Hobie always wondered why it caused such a stir when you and him got together, and it boggled you just as much. If only you knew what people was saying about you. Now, it wasn't a secret to you that people knew you. You were a social person and you talked to a lot of people, but what you didn't know was what people were talking about when you walked away.

Hobie was walking through one of the halls of headquarters, hands in his pocket as he stalked down the hall in his usual attire, the only thing that was different was the bright pink bow that was tied to one of his back belt loops, courtesy of you. "Hey man, you got a little sum back there!" Someone joked as he walked past. He couldn't help but chuckle as he turned to the person who was in the hall. He never cared to learn the names of the people around headquarters, so he definitely didn't know his name, but nonetheless he still interacted with him. "I know, my girl did it," Hobie smirked. "Your girlfriend that real girly one, with the short ass skirt and shit?" The guy smirked, the description of you made him internally twitch with irritation. "Yea, what about it?" Hobie smirked as he tried to keep his cool. "Ya know, almost everybody is plotting on her, right?" He smirked, pushing himself off the wall as he walked closer to Hobie, "she's like…top wanted in all of headquarters." "Really? Why's that?" Hobie's smirk hid his urge to throw him through the wall. "You really don't know? She's the only whore that still has her virginity," the random man laughed, "after that get together last month, everyone been trying to be the first to pop her cherry. It was honestly surprising, giving that she dresses like a complete tramp--" Hobie couldn't help it anymore, one super-powered punch later, and he was laid flat out on the floor. He couldn't help but think this is what he got for trying to be nice to people as he stomped away, his objective now to find you.

You weren't hard to spot, all that glitter and rhinestones made you look like a walking star. You were chatting with Gwen, a sweet smile on your plump, pretty lips as you rambled on about god knows what. It would've made his heart melt if he wasn't so irritated. You barely had time to register his arrival as he came over and scooped you up onto his shoulder like a stack of potatoes, "I gotta borrow her for a second," Hobie uttered to Qwen as he stomped away, a hand holding your skirt down as he carried you away. "Hobs! What's going on?!" You giggled, your legs kicking a little bit as he carried you to a secluded area.

"Love, what happened at the get together?" His rushed tone stirred up worry in your chest, "why?! What happened?" You asked softly, your big doe eyes full of worry as you looked up at him. "Just-- tell me what happened darling. Tell me everything that happened," he sighed softly, realizing that his tone ushered you into a worried state. "Well…nothing really… everyone was chillin', having fun, we started drinking, and we played a few drinking games and after that, gwen took me home cause' i got too drunk," you shrugged. "Then why are people talking about something that happened at the get together and how your a virgin and all this other shit love?" He sighed softly. His hands rested on your hips as a look of embarrassment and realization washed over you. "We were playing put a finger down, and someone said put a finger down if you've had sex, and I was the only one who didn't put a finger down, and everyone made a big ass deal about it," you explained softly as you looked down. He stood there for a second, his expression blank as he processed the information before letting a chuckle out. Was that seriously it? Everyone had the hots for his girl because she admitted to being a virgin?

"Is everyone really still talking about that?" You asked softly, embarrassment evident on your face. He couldn't help but chuckle some more. "Sadly darling, you're a bit of a hot topic~" he said, a sympathetic smile on his face as his thumbs rubbed circles into your hips. You let out a whiny groan as your face fell into your hands, "oh my god~ I was hoping they would forget about that, what's even the big deal?!" You whined as your face fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shorter frame as he shook his head at how stupid this whole thing was. People were over sexualizing you because you wasn't sexually active.

Suddenly an idea popped into his head, causing a smirk to spread on his lips. "How about you let me fix it?" He smirked, making you look up at him with a questioning look, but as soon as you see the smirk on his lips you know what he means. Intimacy wasn't hobie's favorite thing, but shit, he willing to do damn there anything for you. "You for real?" You asked softly, your embarrassment melting away into nervousness and excitement. "Of course darling, let me show you how good I can make you feel~" his voice sultry as his big hands gripped your waist "let me fix your problem, love."~

Your head was spinning. You felt hot and everything felt like it was moving too fast and too slow at the same time. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were a inch away from breaking into a sweat and what made it worse was nothing even happened yet. "Jus' say the word love, and I'll stop, okay?" His tone was lighthearted but his gaze was serious. The nervousness was coming off of you and waves, and he only wanted to make this easier for you. "M'kay hobs~" you uttered with a little nod of your head. You were on your knees atop his bed, looking up at his towering figure. He was trying his absolute best to ignore the mind-numbing throb that was coming from in his dick as he looked down at the sight. He had a perfect view of your cleavage and the way your big pretty doe eyes looked up at him made him wanna shove his dick down your pretty throat.

"Go on and lay back f'me love," he gently ordered, and you mindlessly obligated, sweeping your legs from under your body, swinging them off the edge of the bed as you slowly laid back, giving him a good view of your entire body. Your thick chubby thighs and wide hips paired with the little chubbiness of your tummy and your perky tits sitting prettily in your hot pink bra that peaked out of your white tank top sent him mentally flying. "You ready darling?" He asked, his voice soft and caring.

With a simple nod from you he sprung into action. His hands sliding up your bare thighs, slipping under your sparkly pink skirt as he gently rubbed and gripped them before spreading your knees apart. Your heart thumped out of your chest as you watched him lower himself down to his knees, making his face level with your heat. You propped yourself up onto your elbows as you watch him bunch up your skirt. Hobie's cock twitched in his pants at the sight before him; you were wearing hot pink lacy panties, which matched your hot pink bra, and he could see the outline of your soft pussy lips and swollen clit through the soaked fabric. "Fuckk" he breathed as he paced himself. The sound you let slip past your lips when he gently pressed the pad of his thumb into your clothed clit made it harder for him to control himself. He had to remind himself that this wasn't for him, it was for you.

His thumb circled your clothed clit a few times before gently pushing on your sobbing hole, coaxing a few soft whines out of you before finally hooking his fingers onto the sides of your panties. You eagerly lift your hips as he tugs the flimsy-and damp- fabric down your legs. Hobie was happy to see that your nervousness were slowly melting away, being replaced by eagerness and excitement. Hobie's mind spun wildly as he caught a glimpse of strings of your wetness pulling away with your panties, you were fucking soaked.

You let out a breathy giggle as you watch him pocket your panties, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan when you feel his finger slip in between your folds. He could feel you clenching around nothing, he didn't even have a chance to slip is finger into you. "Relax darling, I got you," he cooed as his other hand reached up to rest on your lower stomach his thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin as he slowly slid his finger in. Fuck you were tight, he could only imagine how your tightness felt wrapped around his cock and he almost came in his pants.

You quickly found out that Hobie was a pussy drunk, his tongue deep in your soaked cunt as his thumb rubbed tight circles into your clit. You couldn't even squirm away from him as he coaxed moans and whines from you, his strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you. You thought you were gonna die the first few minutes, but once he found the spot in you that made you moan the loudest, you were a goner. He was a messy eater too, the sound of him suckling hard on your clit only made your walls clench, which only made him suck and lick harder as he groaned deep in your pussy.

By time he finished his meal, you were two orgasms deep and your cunt was filled with slick and spit, the same mess that was on his face. You panted as you watch him get up off of his knees, thankful for the break, but your mind went wild when you heard his belt buckle and his pants zipper. Hobie chuckled at the sight of your eyes widening when you saw how big he was. 8 inches of pure girth. How the hell was that gonna fit in you?! "Hobs, I don't think it's gonna fit~" you whimpered softly as your thighs subconsciously closed. He could see the fear and nervousness written all over your face and he couldn't help but coo at you.

His hand gently grabbed your jaw, forcing you to take your eyes off of his lower region and lock eyes with him before deeply kissing you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you tasted yourself on his tongue as it explored your whole mouth, a long string of saliva connecting you both as he pulled away. "Don' worry love, I got you, okay?" He cooed softly, earning a soft nod and a "m'kay" from you. "Remember, jus' say the word, and I'll stop," he reminded you. You were starting to relax again, allowing him to spread your thighs apart with his torso, until he reached down, grabbing his length so he could guide it in you.

His cock was twitching in his hand, leaking precum from the tip. It left you feeling excited and scared. He was just so big, but all your thoughts disappeared out of your mind when you felt his messy, precum slicked tip start to push past your folds, making you clench down as your head lolled back.

You were a complete and utter moaning mess, but Hobie stayed patient with you, pausing whenever you clenched too tightly and constantly comforting you and coaxing you through it. The sight of you under him, face scrunched up with pain and pleasure as strings of moans and whines spilt past your lips as he sunk deeper and deeper into your pussy was enough to make him cum now. "You doin' so good f'me darling, good fucking girl, so wet, so fucking tight," he grunted into your neck, sucking hickeys into your soft skin, his eyes rolling back as you clenched around him at his words. "Hobs! m'cant~ your too big~" you whined as your walls choked his dick. He looked down in between you, you didn't even make it halfway. " shhh i know love, but imma need you to relax for me. It'll fit, jus' stay with me now ," he grunted as you whined out, your cunt milking little bits of cum out of his dick.

By time you got past the halfway mark, you were in tears, clinging onto his arms, which was holding him up on either side of your head. His heart ached slightly as you looked up at him, tears spilling down the sides of your face as you panted, "d-did I do it? Is it in?" You whimpered, making his head spin, it felt disgusting how much it turned him on to see you crying like that. He bit back a groan as he looked down between the two of you again. His whole body momentarily went weak, your small, tight, weeping pussy, stretched wide around his dick. You only had two inches left. "Almost darling, your doing so good f'me, yea? Just a little more, okay? You ready?" He cooed softly, kissing away your tears. "m'kay~" you whimpered.

If he kept dragging this out with you, he was gonna bury before he even got a thrust in. He braced himself before slammed into you, forcing the last two inches into your pussy. Your eyes widened and a silent scream left your parted lips, wincing at the pain as Hobie quickly wrapped a arm around you, holding you close. "Fuckk~ good fucking girl, see love? I got you, its all in now. M'so proud of you darling," he could feel you clenching around him at the praise as you whimpered into his neck, fighting off the urge to scream out.

"Soo fucking big~" you cried softly as you slowly got used to the large intrusion. "Shh I know, I know love, but your doin' so good," he cooed as he waited for the signal to move.

Before you knew it, he was fucking you dumb, jerking your body deeper and deeper into the mattress with each thrust. The mixture of moan, whines, screams, and incoherent babbles left your lips as he held the back of your knees up, giving him the perfect view of your small pussy getting abused by his cock as you left a gorgeous ring of your juices around his base. He watched as your eyes rolled back when he hit that one gummy spot in you, groaning as you clenched down on him tightly. He would sometimes give your cheek a soft tap whenever your watery eyes rolled back, wanting to make sure you were still coherent enough to tell him if you wanted to stop, even if he knew that you wouldn't want to.

It only took a good few more thrusts in the right spot for you to cum all over his dick, clenching so tightly on him that he could move as you screamed out, forcing him to cum too as he groaned into your neck.

You both were a panting mess, your hair messy and hickeys all over your neck, and his arms all scratched up and his mouth and chin still covered in your slick. "m'like when you fix my problems," you panted softly, earning a deep chuckle from him.

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one Part three

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."