#just LOOK at The Heart Rate Of A Mouse

[leathermouthproxies]

holy fuck i had a dream that Tim fucking found out about my fic and then BLOCKED ME and made this huge tweet thread about how he hated fan fictions and they were disgusting and to leave him alone and stop writing fics about him and i was like "oh my god i did this how did this happen" and then i found out i tagged a chapter with his real name and not his marble hornets name and i was like omg i have to go make a tumblr post and tell everyone i have to cancel the fic I WAS SO DISTRAUGHT

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yan highschool Gojo reacting to reader who doesn’t want to sleep her room so she abruptly crashes in his. She’s just like “Shokos room smells like smoke and Geto…. Your room was closer.”

I imagine him just being a weirdo and watching us sleep lol.

You looked guilty as you trudged down the hallways towards Satoru's dorm room. Maybe it'd be best to just leave him alone, but you kind of don't want to sleep alone. And for some reason, it just seemed best to go to him for support. You already knew you'd come up with a shit lie. Your pajama pants brushed against the floor over your ankles and you held your favorite pillow under your left arm as you approached his door.

You sigh and raise your hand to knock and the door flies open, making you flinch.

HIs stupid grin made you regret even leaving your room in the first place. Despite it being almost midnight, he seemed wide awake. "Yes?" You fiddle with your pillow and look to the ground. "Um.....there's a mouse in my room." He looks down at the pillow in your hand and you purse your lips. ".........."

"I'm too scared to sleep in my room. And I didn't wanna wake Sho or Suguru." "So, you woke me up instead?" "You weren't asleep."

He sighs and steps to the side like you caught him in a lie...even though he never set one up in the first place. "Alriiiight....I guess I'll let you sleep with me so I can protect you from the big bad mice that aren't even close to your size." "Shut up."

You scoot his one flat pillow to the edge of the bed and place yours to where the side of the bed touches the wall and take your place curling up there under his sheets. As much as he annoys you, you still enjoy these moments where you can selfishly allow yourself to bask in his presence. From what you can see, he's a nice and funny friend- and his bed is reallllly comfortable right now.

You hear him get under the blankets as well and the extra warmth is very much welcomed by you. His breath softly hits the back of your neck in a seemingly comforting way and you close your eyes to fall asleep. It's easier than it was before.

Satoru watches you relax the deeper you're lulled into a sleep, and his heart rate increases with every breath you take. You are so gorgeous. Even with your back facing him, you look amazing. Your soft soap scent covers his brain in nostalgia even though this is happening in the present moment. He wants to touch you. He wants to put his hand on your waist and feel your warm skin through the soft texture of your patterned tank top.

His feet brush against yours under the blanket and your wiggle yours in return, making him smile. He knows this wont last forever. But he'd do anything to have you by his side like this for the rest of his shitty human life. Everything around him is meant to tear him down slowly, piece by piece. But here you are building him back up without even trying. You're his missing piece.

And he hopes you understand that as he turns his back to yours, letting them touch to sync breaths for just this one night.

[konigsblog]

that nurse scenario is a NEED 😫!

Nurse!Reader listening to König's heartbeat while jerking him off... 💦🩺

You know better than to have an inappropriate relationship with your patients. You're a medic, and that ridiculously tall, threatening pervert spends hours in your cramped office, looking for excuses to stay for even longer, or more preferably for König, to get into your panties. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the attention and adoration, how his filthy touch lingered against your rear when he went to grope you, and how overprotective he'd become. He'd send rookies to another medic's office just for some extra time with you.

König's fantasies go completely crazy at the sight of you in your uniform. There's something so attractive about the gloves you wear. He undresses you with his own dirty eyes while you tend to another wound and gush on his muscular, strained body, cooing at him and giving him all your love, just to rile him up. The texture of the smooth gloves against his scarred and rough skin drives him insane - all he can think about is how lovely they'd feel around his lengthy, leaking dick.

You find it laughable when you press your stethoscope against his chest for a 'checkup'. His heart rate pumps fast in your presence and beneath your gaze, and he's left unable to explain himself as his eyes lustfully wander along your skin and a bulge forms in his pants. Even worse if you're riding him over his clothes and press it against his brute chest, how breathless and desperate he is to feel your soft skin against his. It's perfect when you want control, to humiliate him - especially when he's being cocky and aggressive.

The texture of the smooth gloves against his slick boner drive him over the edge, until he's practically howling out through delirium. He throws his head back as his heart begins thumping against his ribs, each stroke causing another growl to slip from his soft lips. König bucks his muscular hips skyward with your sweet, loving touch, panting like a mutt in heat.

“Heilige Scheiße, kleine Maus–Ich glaube nicht, dass ich es viel länger aushalte...” (Holy shit, little mouse–I don’t think I can take much longer…) König grumbles out gruffly, his tip quickly becoming creamy and sticky with each slight touch, before he uncontrollably shoots ropes of his thick semen all down your gloved hands.

Leave König to rest, while he palms himself over his boxers and has countless wet dreams about this moment. :3

[sea-lanterns]

A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

synopsis: (slasher! AU) the killer that haunts your dreams is real.

featuring: rosaria

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom character, character is a serial killer, mentions of blood, mentions of gore but nothing like that happens, rosaria has knives, dark humor, reader is a virg.in, slight degradation, knife play, predator and prey ki.nk, cunnilin.gus (reader recieving), biting, reader gets nicked accidentally, may be ooc.

art credits: tomie

Perhaps it was the paranoia that was gnawing at your chest, but you felt as if someone was watching you from the dark corners of your room ever since you got into bed. For the past few nights or so, your dreams have been haunted by the same, shadowy woman that would chase you down in various parts of your town, waking you up just before she could get close enough to get her hands on you. Every night you would wake up drenched in a cold sweat, heart pounding with adrenaline as everything these dreams did made you feel as if you were living it in reality. You hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in a while, the bags under your eyes prominent and worrying everyone you knew around you. 

Get therapy perhaps? No, no matter what everyone suggested, you knew this was more than simple nightmares and hallucinations. The woman felt real, she is real. The way she would hunt you down with a looming prescience, her tired smile haunting your visions while she dragged her blade-like gloves across the wall, emitting a painful screeching noise that would play on repeat whenever you started feeling anxious. This wasn’t good, you needed this to stop and you needed it to stop now. 

“I’m going insane…” you mumbled to yourself, laughing deliriously from the lack of sleep and staring at the ceiling of your room. Oh goodness, you were tired. You needed sleep but you knew that if you fell into dreamland, that woman would appear again and try to kill you. Every touch, every breath, she drew closer in your sleep, taunting you to close your eyes and let her ravish you in your dreams. 

“I can’t…” your eyes felt heavy, her smile a taunting reminder for you to close your eyes. “I…”

Close your eyes…

It felt as if she were whispering it into your ear, your consciousness on the edge of falling towards her. You wondered if you could do something about this, something that could stop her from tormenting you with her prescience. But alas, you found yourself feeling heavy, the ghostly hands caressing your cheek and drawing you in like an invisible invitation. 

You can’t…

Close your eyes…

The curse you let out was violent. Angry. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for falling asleep so easily, trying to will yourself to wake up before the woman appeared again. As you looked up at your surroundings, you found yourself on the campus of your university, yet there was no one else around and it was pitch black dark outside.

You began walking along the path of your campus, feeling uncomfortable with being out in the open like this. You figured you should probably hide, but honestly it wasn’t like hiding was your best chance of survival. No matter where you ran or hid in your dreams, that damned shadowy woman would always find you. 

A memory of her appearance flashed before your eyes, her tall, looming figure casting her presence in your mind. Rosaria… you remembered her name. How she would purr it in your ear moments before she was about to strike. Rosaria… you wouldn’t dare forget it, her wicked smile stretching ear to ear like a cat toying with a mouse. 

You jolted when you thought you heard the screeching noise of metal against metal. Her claws. Oh how could you forget about her claws? They were the thing that frightened you the most about her. The way they would eerily scratch against the wall to warn you of her presence…

Speaking of her claws, you should probably move faster. It was getting to the point in your dreams where she would make her presence known.

You hurried off the sidewalk and into one of the buildings of your university, hoping you could survive until your brain eventually woke up. Your university looked and sounded eerie without anyone else inside the building, your footsteps echoing on the tiled floor as you kept a lookout for your killer. 

Everything felt straight out of a horror film, each moment of silence building up the suspense. You were surprised you didn’t wake up automatically due to your unusually high heart rate (or die of a heart attack). As you continued walking, you felt as if your footsteps were echoing a little louder than usual…

You stopped. Took one step forward, and the step ricocheted twice as loud through the walls. Another step. Another. You stopped again and felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t think she would find you so soon. 

Without turning around to see if she was actually there, you bolted. The footsteps behind you breaking into a sprint as well as panic began to settle into your nerves. How does she always find you so fast? You let out a cry and tried upping the pace, not bothering to look back. “Leave me alone!” You cried out desperately, tired of these endless nightmares where you felt like you were in a constant death cycle. 

Rosaria didn’t say anything, but you knew she could hear you. Your mind whirling with ways of how to escape from her and mapping out possible hiding spots. The boiler room… you figured you could hide in there, almost no one ever knows how to get down there except for you and the custodians. 

You took a sharp corner and ran to the door that had a Do Not Enter sign. So, like the rebellious woman that you were, you entered anyway. 

It was darker than usual in the basement. The cinder block walls were covered in a thick mildew that made you cover your nose with your sleeve. You forgot how musty it was in here, but nevertheless you found yourself a nice hidden corner to tuck yourself in and hide. You didn’t know when your body would finally wake up, when this nightmare would finally end. All you could do was sit there and wait, hoping morning came before that woman could find you… 

You recalled the first time you encountered her in your dreams. She had some pretty nasty scarring on her face that came from what looked like a burn, however underneath all that rough exterior, you could make out a beautiful face underneath. 

Damn. For a woman as insane as she was, she was still attractive for your tastes. You rested your head on the metal of some pipe, scrunching up your nose at the thought. Of course you had a thing for scary women, but honestly now was not the time to crush on your killer… 

You heard that high-pitched screeching noise of her metal claws dragging against the wall again, causing you to tense up. She was close. You held your breath and tried to make yourself appear as small as possible, shoving yourself deeper into the corner that you wedged yourself in. The handle of the basement door twisted open, its click reaching your ears and making you freeze in place.

How the hell did she find the hidden door?

The woman’s heavy, intimidating footsteps slowly roamed around the basement. A small hum leaving those cracked lips of hers as she got closer and closer. Well, you were trapped. With your back against the wall, you knew you had no place to run and squeezed your eyes shut.

Her footsteps suddenly stopped, but they sounded quite close to where you were hiding. This was it, this was how you would die. In your dreams, in your sleep, where no one will be able to figure out the real cause of your death in the real world. 

Cold metal lightly traced the bottom of your chin, making you let out a whimper. A small, strained chuckle left the woman in front of you, her face stretching into a grin at the sight of you.

“Open your eyes, girl.” Her voice was raspy and grated, it was like she hadn’t spoken in a long time. Her grip tensed a bit more around your chin, making you yelp pathetically for fear of her claws nicking you. She chuckled at the yelp, gently brushing your cheek with a claw and silently ushering you to obey. 

You did, slowly opening your eyes and focusing on the woman in front of you. Rosaria…

She was just how you remembered her. That same, sleazy smile plastered on her disfigured face, the burn marks and scars running over her skin but failing to hide her beauty. Your biggest fear was standing right in front of you, cupping your face in her hands (claws?) and having you knelt pathetically on the floor for her. You hated it. Hated how pathetic you looked, hated how she stared down at you like the victor of the hunt. She had you cornered so easily and you hated it. 

“You look like you want to bite my nose off.” Rosaria chuckled, gently poking your nose with the tip of her finger. She would pinch it if she could, if not for the knives she had on her fingers. “Like a cornered rat…”

You glared at her, as that nickname was uncalled for. However, it seems that Rosaria didn’t see it as a bad thing, as she continued “petting” your face and making your nerves dance under her fingers. 

“--and to think that I found you in the boiler room too. Don’t look so upset, rats are quite the intelligent creatures, and it took several dreams of chasing you to finally have you in my grasp.”

You gulped as her bladed fingers slowly traced over your cheek, over your lips, and then down your neck. Maybe you were just imagining it, but her eyes almost looked…intrigued. Watching the way a small lump of saliva went down your throat from how nervous you were, admiring the goosebumps on your skin as she traced a blade over the groove of your neck, almost like she was about to slit it. 

“You are surprisingly calm for a woman who has several knives to her neck.” Rosaria comments, finally making eye contact with you again and smiling. “Or perhaps, you’re too scared to say anything to me?’

Well what can you say? Please let me live? Fuck you for ruining my sleep schedule? It didn’t matter anyways, your last words would be heard from a serial killer that only existed in your dreams. There really was no point in talking to her. 

Your lips formed a thin line and you closed your eyes, admitting defeat and knowing when you had been bested. She won. She caught you and wore you down, your body too tired to even fight back after all these days. 

Rosaria simply stared back at you for a while, her face blank as she watched you submit yourself.

“...Silly girl.” she chuckles, licking her scratched up lips and tilting your chin up to look at her. “Are you waiting for me to slit your throat? Gouge out those pretty eyes perhaps? Murder you?” She let out another dry laugh, watching the tears in your eyes make your pupils appear all the more glossy. Gods above you were cute. Quite pathetic, but very, very cute to the killer. “You’d be fun to murder, but much more fun to keep around.”

“...H-Huh?” the word came out quite dumbly, almost instinctively from how tired you were. 

“Don’t get me wrong. I quite enjoy hunting pretty girls like you,” she ran a blade across your head, almost like a caress. “You scream, you cry, it’s adorable. But…I like you, little rat.”

She grinned again when you subtly pouted at her. She would have to keep calling you a rat more often. “You are very resistant, staying awake for as long as you can, drinking all those caffeinated energy drinks so you don’t fall asleep.”

“H-How did you–”

She cut you off before you could question her more, one of her blades moving dangerously quick to shut your lips. She was amused at how quickly you froze up, fear settling in as you were afraid she would cut your lips. “Hush now…” she murmurs, lowering her body a bit so that she is directly in front of you. “Don’t question things beyond your understanding, girl. Your cute brain will hurt too much.” 

She laughed as she belittled you, treating you as if you were some child. You gritted your teeth and wanted to say something back, but the blade on your lips was still there. “Listen…I know how desperately you wish to wake up, to get away from me…” 

She leaned in and purred into your ear, a shiver running down your back.

“So why don’t I help you?” 

You nearly jolted at the implications, your face feeling hot from how much adrenaline was rushing through your veins. Rosaria smiled at your fear, before clarifying herself. “I won’t kill, or harm you in any way. To wake up from my dreams, your heart rate must exceed a certain amount, yes? Then your body will wake up on its own…”

Your breath hitched when you suddenly felt another set of blades trail down your stomach, her other hand making its way to your nether regions. 

“I can accelerate your heart rate in another way.”

Before you could ask her what she meant, she suddenly moved closer to you, her lips dangerously close to yours. A gasp left your lips, having never been so close to your killer before. She was even more attractive up close, every scar and burn on her face simply adding to her horrifying beauty. You couldn’t look away from her. 

“May I…?” she hummed. 

“What?”

“Kiss you.”

She was blunt with her answer, tracing your stomach under your shirt with a blade. “I promise you’ll feel even better than…” she laughed a little, “Say, getting killed.” 

Her humor was dark, but it was fitting for a woman like her. You wanted to say no at first, but the more you thought about it, the more you gazed upon her and her features, you felt a small part in the back of your mind say yes. 

“Okay…” you responded meekly, a bit hesitant but curious. Rosaria’s smile widened, pulling you so close your lips nearly brushed against her on the spot. “You’ll enjoy it.” 

She then pushed her lips against yours, the feeling bringing a burning feeling to your core. Her lips were dry and slightly cracked due to her scars, but even if it felt odd at first, you found yourself almost intrigued by the feeling. Her lips were warm. Somehow comforting in a way as she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you harder. 

Oh…how soft your lips were. Rosaria had long forgotten what soft, unscarred lips felt like. She wanted to touch them, kiss them, lick them, she was absolutely enamored by how sweet and plush they were. 

“Damn…you’re soft…” Rosaria murmured, her lips turning into a grin mid-kiss, before smushing them against you once more. “You might die of asphyxiation because of me instead…”

She chuckled at her dark jab of humor, before growling more hungrily into the kiss and wanting her tongue inside you. As you whimpered at how rough she was getting, you felt her hot tongue lick a stripe against your lips, seeking entry into your mouth. You obeyed, parting those lips she loved so much and allowing her to taste you from the inside. 

Rosaria loved the submission. Her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure while she groaned at the feeling of your tongue meekly pushing back. She parted away and licked the messy drool from the corner of your mouth, smirking at the absolutely dazed expression you gave her as it was clear this was your first time. “Never had another woman’s tongue in you before?” Rosaria hummed, gently tapping the outside of your cheek. “It’s okay, that means it’ll be easier to get your heart pumping twice as fast…”

She dove right back in for another kiss when you weren’t paying attention, dragging her blades down to your shorts. They were the thin kind, just comfortable sleeping shorts you often wore to bed, which made Rosaria all the more happier. “So thin and raunchy…I can’t believe you sleep in these every night.” She smiled and used the tip of her blades to tear the fabric with ease, the sound ripping through your ears and causing goosebumps to form on your thighs. Rosaria pulled away from you, licking her lips as the tatters of what used to be your shorts hung from your knees. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed upon your choice of underwear for the night. Simple, yet very cute cotton panties that barely covered your virgin cunt. She didn’t miss the way your arousal so shamelessly seeped through the fabric of the underwear, clearly turned on by what she was doing to you. “Ah…so wet, hm? Never realized you got all hot and bothered by serial killers?” She grinned at your embarrassment and pulled the elastic on the waistband with her finger. 

It seemed she was gauging how far the elastic would stretch before it inevitably snapped under the sharpness of her blade, enjoying the thrill of seeing more and more of your privates. 

“So pretty and hot.” Rosaria rasped, the growl in her throat prominent as she finally tore your panties to shreds. You let out a gasp and tensed at the sight of her finger blades so close to your cunt, dangerously close as something so sharp next to something so sensitive was making you scared. 

Scared…? Or aroused? You honestly had no idea as that small pulse of heat in your core was difficult to gauge. 

“Mmm…spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” Rosaria hummed, ushering for you to lay on your back and prop yourself up using your arms. You were in such a vulnerable position, legs spread and stomach exposed, looking like a little rodent that had been ensnared under the claws of the carnivore. “Have you ever been eaten out?” 

Your eyes widened and you shook your head no, having only seen that sort of thing in pornos and 18+ films. Rosaria smirked and suddenly got down on her knees in front of you, opening her scarred lips and extending her tongue out almost teasingly. “Well, you’re about to experience it now.” 

She grabbed your hips, ensuring you wouldn’t squirm away –which was pointless because you had nowhere to squirm to– and caged you underneath her mouth. It really did feel like you were about to be eaten by a predator, the way she so hungrily drooled at the sight of you twitching so needily. After savoring the sight of you for a few more moments, Rosaria was finally ready, letting out an almost animalistic growl and licking up your inner thighs.

Just like the rest of her, her tongue was quite rough. Except it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, her rough tongue slowly inching its way to the delicate muscle of your clit, making you arch your back a little. “Mm…down.” Rosaria commanded firmly, making your back hit the floor again as she licked small ministrations getting closer to your heat. With each lick, each hot breath from her mouth, you felt your pussy throb with need, a choked gasp leaving your throat. 

Rosaria smiled to herself at how desperate you looked, having successfully gotten you to submit and feel the pleasures she had to offer you. She took one last look at your pathetically lustful face, before focusing on her next target; your clit. 

She leaned in and finally placed her tongue on your swollen clit, making you jolt and whine at the sensation. Rosaria had to hold you down again, groaning and getting impatient with you for being so jumpy. “Down.” She growled again, gently nipping at your clit as punishment for disobeying her orders. 

You cried out, legs shaky from the stimulation that Rosaria was giving you. She went down again, slowly licking long stripes across your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking. Though the noises she was making were raunchy and embarrassing for you, you couldn’t deny the satisfaction she gave you whenever she paid attention to the areas you needed the most. 

Your body heat only rose more as Rosaria traced her tongue more over your folds, sliding the tip in between them and making your heart rate spike. The more gasps and whines you let out, the more Rosaria slobbered over your cunt, getting hungrier and hungrier for your orgasm. 

“Oh…shit.” Rosaria grumbled to herself, slotting her tongue deeper and getting drunk on the taste. “You taste really good…” 

Her tongue continued to make wet slurping sounds, trying to draw you closer to your orgasm. You had never gotten wet or orgasmed before in your life, so to have your virginity taken by a nightmarish serial killer was almost pathetic when you put it into words–

Oh, but what the hell. She felt so good and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to be mad anymore. Your hands made their way to Rosaria’s hair and tangled into her wine-colored hair, tugging on them and bringing her closer to your cunt. She let out an almost breathless sigh at that, smushing more of her face into your thighs. 

“Didn’t think you had it in you to do that to me.” She groaned, enjoying the way you grabbed onto her short hair. “You have guts I’ll give you that.” 

She let you hold onto her like a lifeline, pushing her tongue further and watching you cry out in ecstasy. You didn’t think her mouth would feel so good, and Rosaria didn’t think your pussy would taste this good. Both of you were entangled in a world of pleasure with each other, your whines further spurring Rosaria on and making her want to see you orgasm for the first time. You felt your body getting close, your heart pumping wildly in your chest and making you feel as if you were about to burst. 

“Coming so soon…?” Rosaria hummed, that same sleazy smile stretching on her lips. “Quite pathetic, but it’s adorable.” 

You would normally have something snarky to quip back at her, but the only thing that left your lips was a half-strangled moan. She continued pushing you, edging you with her tongue as she brushed over your entrance with those scarred lips of hers. This, combined with the sensation of her thick tongue maneuvering deep inside you was enough to make you see white. Your walls tightened and your thighs instinctively clamped around Rosaria’s face, causing one of her claws to accidentally nick you in the process.

It didn’t hurt, if anything it felt more like a paper cut, but Rosaria was so stunned by your reaction that she didn’t expect you to suddenly orgasm on her tongue. A loud, needy whine escaping your throat and making her own pussy throb at how much you enjoyed her. As your hot cum spilled out onto Rosaria’s face for the very first time, your heart rate had accelerated at speeds that you didn’t even feel when being chased by Rosaria previously. 

You felt your body go numb from the aftershocks of your very first orgasm, the dreamy world around you starting to fade. 

“Good girl…” Rosaria said under her breath, kissing your clit for the last time, before you closed your eyes. “Next time wear some sexier panties the next time you go to sleep.”

You blacked out after that. 

You jolted from your bed, covered in sweat and with your heart hammering in your chest. Your breathing was unsteady and you felt like you had gone on the wildest roller coaster in your life, the adrenaline still coursing through your bloodstream from the aftermath of what occurred in your dream. 

The cracks of daylight began to seep in through your bedroom window, telling you that you had slept through the night and that it was now morning. The world of reality suddenly didn’t feel too real to you anymore, and you wondered if the dream was a genuine dream that you had, or if it really was the ghost of Rosaria haunting your nightmares again. 

A dull ache made itself known to you between your legs, causing you to wince. As you moved the blankets off of you, you were shocked to see the absolute mess you had left on your sheets; a giant wet spot which formed at where your pussy was, and tatters of your shorts and underwear left scattered around your bed. However, what shocked you most of all, was the small line of red that you saw on the outer part of your thigh, a small trickle of blood that didn’t hurt, nor did you feel when you went back to reality. 

If the mark was anything to go by, you knew that these dreams were definitely real, and that Rosaria was real too if this was the case. You gently traced the red mark with your finger, but didn’t make an effort to clean it up, too distracted with your own thoughts to think straight. 

Slowly, you slide out of bed, but not before looking at the can of a half drunken energy drink sitting on your nightstand. 

You looked at the drink, sloshed the liquid inside it to see how much was in it, before throwing it out in the bin. 

[mydearzero]

Livid | mean!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Annoying Spencer, just to see him get mad, was one of your favourite ways to pass time at the BAU. Emily had warned you not too push him too far. You hadn't realised how right she was until Spencer decides he's had enough and takes you down to the basement.

Contents: DUB-CON, NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, mean!Spencer, no aftercare,, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie (is it even a mydearzero original if there's no coming inside?), spanking, dacryphilia, impact play, choking, spit, degradation, humiliation, semi-public sex, punishment, name calling, sir kink, filming and taking pictures without permission, orgasm denial, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

5K words

this one's a doozy folks. buckle up. it's pure porn - nik

You weren't doing it on purpose at first. It just so happened that you occasionally did things that got under Spencer's skin. You gradually realized which actions ticked him off and started doing them more and more. You just enjoyed seeing him annoyed, huffing and puffing, yet never saying anything. His patience seemed neverending.

Emily had warned you not to push him too far. According to her, when Spencer snapped, he exploded. 

Yeah, right. 

Her discouragement only egged you on. You'd hardly ever seen the genius even get mad. Spencer got irritated at best. He was an angel, really. 

So you continued pushing, taking every possible chance to get on his last nerve. It had turned from enjoying seeing him annoyed to wanting to see him furious. You'd seen Spencer snarl at a snobby police officer once. Hell, you'd even seen him snap at an UnSub. But you'd never seen him absolutely livid. 

It took you a while to figure out why you wanted to see him get mad. 

You thought back to that case, the one that had him yelling at the UnSub. You couldn't even remember the details of the case. All you could think about was Spencer's hands gripping the table as he leaned across it, getting close and personal with the UnSub. 

You cared about the veins straining against the surface of his skin, the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. The only lasting memory you had of the case was the tone of his voice and what it did to your body. 

A part of you wanted to be on the other side of that table, and it scared you how that part was growing exponentially, especially after Emily's warning. 

You didn't want to admit it, not even to yourself. But the sole reason you continued messing with Spencer was the age-old 'teasing your crush to get their attention' stint, and you hadn't even realized it. 

You shouldn't have been having all these deep thoughts and desires while sitting at your desk on a random Tuesday afternoon. Yet here you were. 

You tried to read the lines on the page in front of you repeatedly but to no avail. Your face sunk into your hands as you groaned inwardly. You had to stop this juvenile behaviour at this second. He was going to catch on. You were certain somebody already must've done the math. 

It shouldn't have surprised you when Spencer did finally burst. It wasn't like you did anything out of the usual. He wasn't even being tormented by a gruelling case. He'd just had enough. 

"God! You think you're so cute, don't you?" Spencer exclaimed, slamming the mouse you'd taped over on the table. The silence from before and after his outburst differed immensely. It was calm and serene before it turned tense and awkward. 

You slowly turned to look at his desk, not meeting his eye. If you had, you would've seen the way his pupils dilated at your meek behaviour. The way he had to regain his composure. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed, feeling caught. You knew reading minds wasn't a thing, but profiling sure was one of the things closest to it in this world. Spencer couldn't have known what you were thinking only seconds prior to him finding your latest childish attempt to invoke his anger. But it felt like he knew. 

Spencer scoffed as you chewed on your bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so funny anymore. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" 

You gaped as you made eye contact with an overly amused Derek. He was enjoying this show to its fullest extent. "Don't look at me, kid. We warned you." He shrugged. 

You turned your eyes back to a still-aggravated Spencer. He pushed himself away from his desk and got out of his chair. He brushed his hands over his jacket, still sending daggers your way. 

Your gaze followed him hesitantly as he stalked over to your desk. You scrambled to arrange things as if your messy workspace would only annoy him more. 

"Get up." He demanded. You raised your eyebrows in question. Was he serious? 

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Emily teased in a sing-songy tone. Not helping, Prentiss. 

"You're messing with me, right? Because of all the stupid pranks?" You asked sceptically. Your voice was wavering and uncertain. 

"No, I'm being dead serious. Get up. Follow me." Spencer made an upwards motion with his fingers as he loomed over your seated figure. 

You slowly pushed your chair out and sent questioning glances to JJ, who only shrugged. Your legs were unsteady as you stood. Spencer was your coworker, your friend. So why was your heart beating in your throat as if you were about to be sent to the fifth circle of Dante's Inferno? 

Spencer didn't say another word as his long legs stalked out of the bullpen, uncaring that you were struggling to keep up. You nearly tripped over your feet several times before reaching the elevator. You stood beside a seething Spencer, who turned to push the 'B' button. 

The basement? What business did he, or you, for that matter, have in the basement? Nobody ever- Right. Nevermind.

Nobody ever set foot in the basement. 

You twiddled with your fingers in anticipation, hearing Spencer breathe in an unnatural pattern. The floors passed by quickly, and before you knew it, you were met with the sight of the metal doors sliding open into darkness. 

Spencer flicked the light switch. Harsh, industrial, white light filled the dusty room. It was smaller than you expected. The rows of file cabinets made it look smaller than it really was. A desk was situated in the middle, seemingly abandoned. 

You shuddered a breath as you stepped into the room, feeling exposed even when you knew nobody could see or hear you down here. Your shoes seemed outrageously interesting, your eyes never leaving them as you awaited Spencer with bated breath. 

"Look at me." His words filled the silence. The room had an eerie lack of echo, his voice sounding closer than it actually was. 

You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze. He appeared taller like this, especially when you were already feeling small, hunching in on yourself. 

"I'm going to give you one chance to apologize for your downright appaling behaviour." Spencer crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. You felt as if you were being scolded by a teacher for throwing a crayon at another student. 

"Why the condescending tone, Reid? We're all coworkers here." You questioned defensively, mirroring his stance by crossing your arms. 

"That doesn't sound like an apology to me, but I'll bite. We are definitely coworkers. But you know as well as I that you changed that dynamic when you decided to start acting like a spoilt little girl begging for my attention." His composure didn't change as he spoke the incriminating words.

You didn't know what you expected coming down here with him, but this certainly wasn't it. You felt something simmer at his words, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You searched his face for any emotion, but only found a look that said "Well?" 

When he noticed you weren't going to answer, he laughed. It wasn't a hearty chuckle. There was an underlying tone of sarcasm and ridicule to it. 

"You've been at this for months, and now you're not even going to attempt to say sorry? I expected a shitty excuse, sure, but an apology nonetheless." Spencer scoffed. 

You knew he was holding back. You could see it in the way he turned his head and closed his eyes before facing you again. You damned your profiling skills for giving you a foresight of what he had in store for you. You'd seen nothing of his wrath yet. 

You knew he was getting frustrated at your silence, but you couldn't find the words. Nothing you could say could make this any better for you. You ran all the possible outcomes in your head, but every thought was more incriminating than the previous one. 

"Fine." He clapped his hands together, stepping away from the desk. He motioned towards it, signalling you to take timid steps towards the piece of furniture. You looked at him questioningly. 

His eyebrows raised. The words "You know what to do" went unspoken. 

You swallowed as your mouth went dry. You looked at the desk, before looking at Spencer again. He didn't have to say anything. He wanted you to do it yourself. You closed your eyes as you leaned your palms against the unkept wood. You slowly brought your elbows down, leaning on them uncertainly. If this wasn't his intention, you'd just embarrassed yourself into the next century. 

You heard him breathe deeply as he walked behind you. You jerked as his hand ran up your back until it reached between your shoulder blades. He pushed hard enough to press your chest flush with the desk, turning your head to lie it on the surface. His hand stayed there as the other was placed on your hip. 

Spencer let out a content sigh. "Better." 

He stepped away, leaving a cold feeling behind. You didn't dare move, already mortified at your predicament. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible as if any noise you made could set him off. You tried to hear what he was doing, unable to see him clearly in your peripheral. 

Your head raised off the desk at lightning speed when you heard the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter. 

"Did I say you could move?" Spencer asked. You shook your head, quickly placing it back on the desk. For a second, you wondered why you were even listening to him. He had no authority over you. But it felt exhilarating to give it to him. 

"You speak when I ask you a question. No shaking your head, understood?" His voice came from in front of the desk. How hadn't you noticed him walking around it? 

"Yes, sir," You squeaked, doing as he asked. Sir? Really? 

"Good girl." 

The words flipped a switch inside you. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, seemingly having to wait an eternity for him to take the next step. You heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling. You found yourself crossing your legs at the implication. Surely he wasn't going to whip you? 

You thought you were going to get scolded for the action, but Spencer ignored it. He reached for your wrists, lying awkwardly beside your head. You didn't dare make eye contact. 

You were confused at his next action until you saw the hole near the back of the desk, meant for cables. He threaded the belt through it before bringing your wrists to it and tying them together. The positioning was awkward at best, but you were starting to feel like that's what he wanted, to embarrass you. 

You gave the makeshift handcuffs an experimental tug. They didn't budge, of course. Panic simmered in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling settling at the thought that you were stuck. There was nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to run from Spencer's revenge. 

He ran a hand through your hair, softly shushing you like you were a child. His hand slowly slid down your back. Your breath stuttered at his deliberate pace. He was taking his sweet time. 

"Shhh... You're fine." He whispered, putting a foot between yours and kicking them open. You grunted at the action just as he was hooking his fingers into your bottoms and taking your underwear clean off with them. He lifted one of your feet, only bothering to untangle one foot and leaving your clothes pooled at your other ankle. 

His fingers trailed up the inside of your leg. The tips of his fingers finally found the spot where you needed them most, but Spencer didn't do much besides feel you up. 

"You're so fucking wet it's pathetic." He mumbled as he wiped his fingers on your thigh. 

"You can pretend that you're tough and grown up all you want, but this is what you are. A pathetic little whore begging for my attention." Spencer walked around the desk and grabbed your chin harshly. The look in his eyes could only be described as animalistic. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. 

You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. But he did no such thing. 

"Open your mouth." He demanded, squishing your cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. You obeyed, but it wasn't good enough for him.

"You can do better than that, c'mon." He urged, putting his thumb in your mouth and pushing your head back. He removed his hand and observed you lying there with your mouth open. He seemed pleased at the sight, humming in approval. 

His hand made its way back to your chin, turning your face upwards, craning your neck uncomfortably. You hadn't registered what he'd done until you felt a warm glob hit your tongue. Had he just spit in your mouth? You looked at him aghast. 

"Wipe that shocked look off your face and swallow it if you know what's good for you." He patted your cheek mockingly. You closed your mouth and swallowed his spit, not trying to think too much about the fact that known germaphobe Spencer Reid had just spit. in. your. fucking. mouth. 

"That's what I thought." He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You thought he was going to take it off, maybe leaving it on your arms, seeing as they were currently tied to the desk, but he did no such thing. He brought the hem over your eyes, effectively blindfolding you with your shirt. 

You couldn't imagine what you must've looked like. Legs spread, bottoms haphazardly pulled down, shirt over your eyes, hands tied, pussy dripping. Your heart sank as you heard Spencer take another picture. 

"You look so good like this, exactly how you're supposed to be," Spencer spoke with a misconstrued sense of pride. 

You flinched and yelped when he abruptly struck your behind with a flat hand. You'd expected this was coming, that he was going to punish you, but you hadn't heard him approach. He rubbed his hand over the sore spot he'd just hit. 

"You're going to count them for me, and you're going to apologize after every single one. You better mean it because if I feel you're being insincere, you're only gonna get more until I believe you." Spencer set the rules, resting his left hand on your hip. You waited for him to begin, but another strike didn't come. 

"This is the time where you say 'Yes, sir' like you did earlier. I must admit, I didn't expect that one. But I like it, so we're keeping it," he mocked. 

"-Yes, sir," you stammered. Another hum of approval met your ears as he repositioned himself for the optimal angle. 

He didn't hold back as the second slap hit your butt. It stung more than you'd expected, a burning sensation spreading fast. 

"Two. I'm sorry, Spencer." You apologized, putting as much sincerity behind the words as you could muster. 

"No, that was one. The first one was just a warning. And you don't deserve to call me Spencer right now. You'll need to earn that privilege back. You'll learn to respect me soon enough. Now, start over." 

His hand came back down once more.

"One! I'm sorry, sir," you hissed at the pain. 

"What are you sorry for, princess?" Spencer asked as he delivered another smack. 

"Two! I'm sorry for disrespecting you!" You no longer had the energy to keep your head up, giving up the attempt to look at him and resting it back on the desk. 

"And?" He questioned. Another strike. 

"Three! I'm sorry for embarrassing you and pulling stupid pranks." You admitted.

"I don't buy it," Spencer contemplated. 

"Please, sir! I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for being so childish." You apologized. A strike harder than the previous ones landed on your behind. 

"You don't speak out of turn, do you understand?" Spencer gripped your hair and pulled your head up to spit the words straight into your ear. You nodded wildly, as much as his grip on your hair through the shirt would allow. 

"Yes, yes, I understand." You said. Spencer let go of your hair. You only had milliseconds to respond, preventing your head from hitting the wood. He returned to his previous position, not wasting any time before landing several strikes to your ass.

This continued for a while, him smacking, you counting and begging for his forgiveness. Your legs were shaking by the time he reached the twentieth hit. 

"Twenty... I really am sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pushed you." You sighed, feeling Spencer rub circles over the impacted flesh. 

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. 

"Yes, I won't do it again. I'm sorry." You didn't remember how many times the words 'I'm' and 'sorry' had rolled off your tongue that afternoon, but it must've been dozens. 

"Good. Now, for good measure, one last time." There was an underlying tone to the threat you couldn't place. You didn't have to wonder long, the last strike landing directly on your pussy. 

"Shit! Oh my god," you cursed, attempting to shut your legs. Spencer's feet kept them from moving. He'd anticipated the reaction. You were glad for the echoless chamber, the humiliatingly wet sound only reverberating slightly. 

"Now I can really be sure you'll remember." You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much. But then again, hadn't you been the exact same? Gaining joy from inconveniencing him? You sighed at the realization you couldn't judge him for getting off on this. The last smack certainly hadn't been a dry one. 

"Now..." Spencer trailed off. He removed the shirt from your eyes, pushing it further over your head. He pushed the fabric into your mouth as a makeshift gag. 

"Don't you make any noise, okay? I mean, not like anybody will hear you down here." He chuckled. You turned your head and your eyes widened as you saw him walk towards the elevator. He pushed the call button and turned back to catch one last glimpse at you. He snapped a quick picture of your reddened ass cheeks before stepping into the elevator. 

You yelled his name through the gag, nothing but gurgling, obstructed pleas meeting his ears. He wasn't leaving, right? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He was just testing you. 

You were left with the sound of your own pants and racing heart. You tugged at your binds once more. What if he left? Went home? Surely it was past the regular office hours by now. 

Tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of being left here like this overnight. What if nobody came down here? What if somebody did come down here and saw you like this? You were conflicted. 

After 10 minutes of silent contemplation and several escape attempts, the metallic creaking of the elevator coming down sounded through the basement. You clenched your eyes shut, begging the universe it was Spencer and nobody else. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the familiar sound of Spencer's shoes hitting the linoleum floor. You watched as he sipped his newly acquired coffee, not acknowledging you, only looking at his phone. After presumably sending a couple of texts, he shut it off and put it away on top of one of the cabinets nearby.

He smiled at the sight of the fresh tears rolling down your face. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Dacryphilia?" He asked as he crouched down to your level and wiped a few stray tears from your chin. He removed the gag from your mouth. 

You shook your head before correcting yourself. "No, sir." 

"It's a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing," Spencer explained. Leave it up to Spencer to dive into an explanation at a moment like this. 

"I never thought I was someone who could be turned on by that. But seeing you like this, I can definitely see the appeal." His words were quiet, but so was the room. 

"You look so pretty when you cry for me." He praised, running a hand through your hair. It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment, given the circumstances. He got up from his crouched position before you. You looked up at him. The domineering gaze he gave back told you all you needed to know.  

"Thank you, sir," you whispered, hoping it was the correct response. 

"See? It's not that hard to be respectful. But I'm not done with you yet."  

Your breathing picked up as you remembered your predicament. Spencer didn't waste any time, pushing his pants down. His cock was long and thick. 

You thought he was going to make you suck it. He pushed it in your mouth harshly, not giving you any room to breathe. He held you there, choking on his cock by the back of your head for a few more seconds before pulling it out and slapping it on your cheek. He smiled wickedly before tucking it back in his pants. It had only been a taste, literally. 

He saw your confused look, but ignored it, opting to walk back around the desk. He wasted no time, pushing two fingers inside your mortifyingly wet hole. He curled them exactly right, and you clenched your fist and eyes to stop your legs from giving out. 

Just as you'd started moving your hips along with his hand, he pulled away. "Stay still. Or you don't get anything." 

You willed your entire body to remain frozen as he resumed his activities. He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing at the exact speed and pressure to make your knees buckle. You had to put all your weight on your upper body to stop moving. 

"God, will you shut up?" Spencer groaned. You hadn't even noticed you were making any noise, the moans and whines falling from your lips sounding foreign. 

You bit your lip to keep them from escaping, but it was hard when Spencer was unrelenting. You felt yourself coming close, soft, high-pitched whines escaping your throat no matter how hard you tried to contain them.  

Your toes curled, and your muscles tightened, but Spencer pulled away. More tears welled up in your eyes at the immensely unsatisfying sensation. You wanted to beg him to please continue and let you finish. But he'd told you to shut up, and you really weren't looking to prolong your punishment. 

You heard your own pathetic sobs, drowning out the sound of him undoing his pants again. Your chest heaved as you tried to stay silent. Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the tears. 

It was bizarre how quiet he stayed. He was usually so talkative. But the implication that you didn't deserve him speaking to you unless it was an order was clear. 

"This is all you're good for. A hole for me to fuck. And don't you dare forget it." Spencer lined himself up and didn't offer any more preparation before sliding inside. 

"You're just a deplorable, woeful, pitifully sad little girl." Spencer spat as his grip on your hair returned. His other hand snuck around your neck, gripping tightly. He used the grip on your hair and neck as leverage to set a brutal pace, calling you every synonym for pathetic available. 

"You think you're so important? Good enough to be pulling shit like this? You need to learn your. fucking. place." Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust. "You're expendable at best." 

You didn't dare speak, the only thing leaving you was quiet sobs, whines and moans. Your breathing was strained against the hold he had on your neck. 

You were embarrassed to feel the knot in your stomach tightening worryingly fast. Spencer was treating you like a whore, and you were getting off on it, faster than anything else ever had before. 

Spencer felt you tighten around him and quickly pulled out and stepped away. You felt the cold breeze on your empty hole. More tears spilt as you heard the sound of a video recording starting. 

Spencer zoomed in on your desperate, fluttering pussy, before pushing back inside, keeping the camera focused on his cock entering in and out. 

You tried to hide your face when he turned the camera to it, but his hand yanked on your hair, making you face the camera. 

"Say: 'I'm Spencer's little slut. His own personal hole to use whenever he pleases because I'm a cockwhore hungry for attention.'" Spencer demanded. 

"Please, sir. Don't make me say it on camera," you begged. You'd say it, just to get it over with, but the current footage he had was already incriminating enough. 

"No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. Say it." The pace of his hips never let up, your figure moving crudely in and out of the shot. 

"I-I'm Spencer's... Please," you began. Spencer's speed inside you increased, interrupting your train of thought. He delivered a harsh smack against your still sore ass, urging you to continue. 

"I'm Spencer's... little slut. His own personal... hole... to use whenever he pleases." You inhaled sharply before continuing. "Because I'm a... cockwhore... hungry for attention." You stuttered over the words, forcing them out. 

Spencer seemed satisfied, putting his phone away. His hand returned to your throat, cutting off the airflow as he fucked you harshly. Every thrust of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body. 

The wood was digging into your hips, sure to be beaten and bruised by tonight. Your weight was no longer being held up by your legs, Spencer's presence behind you being the only thing that kept you from collapsing. 

You were tight with desperation, every muscle wanting that sweet release he was depriving you of. 

Spencer grunted unintelligible curses against you as he pistoned inside. His thick cock felt like it was splitting you open with every thrust, no matter how wet you'd gotten. 

"Gonna cum inside you, and there's nothing you can do about it," Spencer mumbled as he sped up. How it was even possible, was beyond you. 

"Please, sir. Please let me cum." You whined. If he denied you one more time, you weren't sure if you could take it. 

"What makes you think you fucking deserve to cum? You're an annoying, good-for-nothing brat who's getting what was coming for her." He moaned against the shell of your ear. The sound ignited something new inside you. You needed to hear it again. 

"Please, Spencer. Please," you begged, more tears threatening to spill after you'd assumed you were all out. 

"What, you're gonna fucking cry? Like a fucking baby? Don't fucking do things if you're gonna fucking cry over the consequences, you fucking slut. And it's sir to you, you whore." You'd never heard Spencer this vulgar. And you could've never imagined what it would do to you. 

"You know what they call this, crybaby?" Spencer asked, tightening the grip on your throat, cutting off most if not all of the airflow. You shook your head aggressively. 

"Karma." He spoke, thrusting harshly to get the message across. The combination of the lack of air and his ruthless thrusts was brutal. You could feel yourself trembling, trying to keep yourself together. 

Spencer pushed his cock sharply one last time, twitching and releasing his spend inside you with a loud groan. He released your throat and pulled out. You fell forward, chest heaving with dry sobs. He hadn't let you come. You cried frustrated tears as Spencer took more photos, as expected. 

You felt the warm come drip from your pussy as Spencer took close-ups. A tense silence overtook the room as he made himself decent before paying you any attention. 

"Garcia still owed me a favour, so she disabled the elevator from coming down here unless you enter a code," Spencer explained as he untied you. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, even if the ordeal was already over. The fact that there had been no real threat settled the uneasy feeling, even if only a little. It was the only consolation he offered. Spencer redid his belt as if it hadn't just been used as handcuffs while he fucked you like you were his property to discard. 

You rubbed your wrists, seeing the red wells carved in them from your relentless tugging. How were you going to explain this when you came in tomorrow? 

Spencer didn't seem to care, simply grabbing his stuff and waiting for the elevator. You looked around for your underwear, only to see a small piece of fabric sticking out of his pocket. You sighed and put your bottoms back on without the underwear, cringing at the wet, sticky fluid still between your legs. Your top was still wet with saliva and tears. 

You got in the elevator with him without saying a word. You'd expected to at least talk to him about it, but as soon as you reached ground level, Spencer was gone. 

Your eyes welled up and cheeks heated when you realized you were going to have to walk through the lobby and go home alone, all without any underwear and while still dripping his cum. 

Spencer had gotten what he wanted. You were mortified. And you sure as hell weren't going to pull any more pranks anytime soon. 

Not while at the office, anyways. 

[caelesjjk]

simply meant to be | jjk

☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be ☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader ☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut ☾ Rating: m (18+) ☾ WC: 4.6K ☾ Warnings: this is not your average nightmare before christmas, its pretty dark and unhinged. jungkook is jack skellington. reader is somewhat of a sally character. jungkook calls you immortelle (it means everlasting), jungkook has face tattoos (you'll see), monsters, fear, seokjin appearing as Dr. Finkelstein hehe, electrocution therapy, being held against will, jungkook unalives someone, a game of cat and mouse, mentions of blood, smut in the forms of: kissing, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, creampie ☾ Summary: you aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man. You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are. But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want. ☾ Authors Note: hello darklings! Please enjoy my trick for the Fantasy and Fangs halloween collab! this fic became so much more unhinged than i originally planned lol. it may not be for everyone! just e sure to check my warnings before you proceed with the fic. this is heavily unedited.

Your body jolts upright, lungs immediately gasping for breath.

Panic surges through every nerve as you frantically look around at your surroundings and grasping at the thin sheet you find bunched around your hips. 

You’re naked. God why are you naked? How did you get here? Where the fuck are you?

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look next to you in bed and see that someone is lying next to you. A broad back and muscular arms covered in tattoos leading up to a head of messy black hair that covers the persons face lies snoring quietly against the sheets.

“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping the thin sheet around your body as you scramble out of the bed. The man lying in the bed stirs slightly and reaches into the space where your body once was. 

You don’t wait to see anything else, dashing for the bedroom door and stumbling into the very dark hallway. The only light comes from the cobweb covered candle sconces that line the black painted walls. 

You adjust the sheet around you the best you can before taking off running down the hallway. There is an immediate feeling that you’re being watched and you make the mistake of turning around to look behind you. 

The dark shadowy silhouette of a man stands where you had just been a moment ago. You beg your feet to move faster.

Before you reach the top of the stairs, you glance back over your shoulder once more to see what you can only describe as a jack o lantern grin light up and stretch across the face of the man taking his time moving towards to you down the hallway.

“Where are you going, immortelle?”

A voice comes into your mind and almost causes you to fall face first down the winding spiral staircase in front of you.

“Please leave me alone.” You beg as you rush down the stairs. You don’t make it far before you suddenly feel hands gripping at your ankles. Hands with claws….some covered with slime…reaching from under the stairs and tearing at the sheet keeping your naked body from being exposed.

You scream until your throat hurts. Kicking at the hands as you continue to fight your way down the stairs.

“You know how much I love chasing you, baby.”

Somehow you manage to make it to the bottom of the stairs, but you almost wish that you hadn’t when you fall against the front door and throw it open.

You must be hallucinating with fear.

Outside the sky is black and grey swirls of clouds in constant motion, you know if you stared too long you’d become dizzy. Instead, your eyes wonder around to the bare trees surrounding the house you just made your way out of. Just a few leaves hang on for dear life as the wind quite literally howls through the air.

Down the crooked stone steps in front of you is a huge iron gate with two giant pumpkin designs bent into the bars. Gargoyles sit atop every stone post surrounding the house. 

Wasting no more time, you descend the stairs until you’ve reached the iron gate, shaking the bars when it doesn’t budge.

“Please open. Please.” You shove with your shoulder as hard as you can and the gate loudly creaks open just enough for you to squeeze out into the open street. 

You turn around and shove the gate back shut, looking up at the top of the stairs where the man who had been chasing you through the house now stands with a smile on his half tattooed face and his arms crossed over his bulky bare chest.

You can see even from here that the tattoos on the left side of his face are skull like features. It’s absolutely terrifying.

He lifts a hand in a wave as he menacingly tilts his head to the side and smiles.

Fuck this.

You wrap the blanket tighter around you and take off down the street without a single clue as to where you are. Anywhere has to be better than where you just were.

You spoke too soon again.

The sight in front of you as you round the corner is just as terrifying as that house and that man.

There are monsters, literal monsters, standing in the streets. Selling items at market booths. Chasing their children on the sidewalks. Laughter…and screams. It’s a terrible mix of sounds.

You freeze as a bouncy ball belonging to what you can only assume is a swamp monster child rolls against your feet.

“Happy first day after Halloween Ms Y/N!” The little creature says, staring at you expectantly.

Your instincts tell you not to scream. If you scream it will only make things worse.

“You know my name?” Your voice shakes and so do your hands as you continue holding the blanket around your body.

“Are you alright, miss?” The child’s mother appears behind him, looking at you with concern.

“I um…I should go.” Your bare feet move to cross the street, making you pause when you step in something wet. You know that it’s blood before you even look down. Vomit threatens to fill your mouth but you continue walking away, dragging the train of the sheet you’re wearing through more of the bloody streets.

More monsters stare at you as you go. Some with long sharp teeth and claws that could easily slice through a normal humans delicate skin. Some walked on two feet and some slithered across the ground like sickly serpents. 

“Are you lost?” A horrifying witch grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back into the street.

“No, no I’m just on my way somewhere.” You lie the best you can, yanking your arm away only to immediately see deeps scratches from her long nails.

“So sorry miss.” She cackles, moving to join two other witches who were waiting for her on the other side of the street. They all continued their uneasy laughing until you turned the corner up ahead.

As you turned the corner you ran hard into something. Or someone it would appear when you looked up.

“What are you doing out here in nothing but a blanket, Y/N?” The man asks, pushing a pair of glasses up onto his nose.

This man had stitches across his forehead and down around his neck. Like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster, he’s been sewn together.

“Do I know you? Why does everyone here know my name?” You step back to put space between you and the monster.

“Ah, I see. Come with me.” He turns and begins walking but stops when you don’t follow. “I can help you. Come.” He holds out a hand, and while you don’t know what the fuck is happening, something tells you it’s okay to trust this stranger. 

You take his hand.

“Who are you?” You finally ask.

“I’m a friend. Dr. Kim Seokjin.” He swings your hands between you in a silly way. “You usually call me Jin. Sometimes Jinnie.”

“Jin.” You repeat, the name feeling familiar on your tongue. “Where are we going?”

“To my lab. I have things that can help you there.” Jin turns another corner and up ahead you can see a tall crooked tower looming in the distance.

“Your lab is in there?” 

“It is. Don’t worry Y/N, I promise you’re safe with me.”

You swallow hard but continue to let Jin lead you inside the tower and up, up, up the long spiraling stairs until you reach a door that he slides open.

Inside is a room filled with equipment and various experiments. Glass beakers filled with colorful liquid bubble and burble over small open flames. Sparks fly from wires that connect to different machines and some that connect to nothing at all. There are also several control panels at the center of the room with gurneys situated next to them.

“What kind of doctor are you, Jin?” Your voice shakes a little.

“The helpful kind.” He answers with a menacing grin on his face and a flicker of something slightly insane in his eyes.

“Wh-what do you have here that can help me?” You look down at the dirty blanket still wrapped around your body.

“First,” he grabs your hand again and leads you to a side room that has a cot with some folded clothes lying on top of it, “you can use those clothes to change into, okay? Whatever you want.” 

“Thank you.” You step into the small room and turn to face him. “Is something really wrong with me? Something that makes me not remember?”

“Everything is fixable. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.” Jin winks and closes the door behind him so that you can change in private.

You dress in a daze, still feeling very off kilter from everything that’s unfolded from the moment you opened your eyes. Flashes of the man you woke up next too and his terrifying tattooed face race across your memory and leave chills over your skin.

“Ready now?” Jin calls from outside the door. You take a deep breath and walk back out into the laboratory. “Why don’t you take a seat on one of those?” He motions to the gurneys at the center of the room.

Reluctantly, you walk over to them and sit on the thin mattress. It crumples under your weight and immediately sends a sense of dread swimming into your veins.

“How can you fix me?” You barely get the sentence out before Jin is next to you, situating your arms at your sides and wrapping leather straps around your wrists. “What are you doing?” Panic thick in your voice.

“This is how we fix you. Bite this.” He puts a leather strap up to your mouth.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this. Let me go!” You pull against the restraints, thrashing your head and body in an attempt to get the fuck away.

“I know it’s a little frightening. You do this every time. One of your only flaws.” Jin shakes his head, sounding disappointing.

“Flaws? What are you talking about!?” 

“You’re my creation. I made you.” He tilts his head and smiles, “and you’re absolutely perfect except for that mind of yours. It resets. Forgets.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Creation?! I’m a human being! I’m not some experiment! What is wrong with you?” Hot tears starts to leak from the corners of your eyes and blur your vision.

“You’re so adorable sometimes.” Jin yanks on your restraints to tighten them, “sit still, Y/N.” 

“You’re hurting me.” You whimper.

“You think that hurts?” Jin smiles before he begins sticking sticky pads to your head and neck. “Just wait.” He whispers into your ear.

You’re such an idiot to have trusted this monster. You were so sure that he was good. A friend. He felt like a friend when you saw him. Familiar.

“Please…don’t.” You beg just before he forcefully shoves the piece of leather between your teeth.

“You’ll thank me soon.”

Terror freezes your body as you watch him slam down a lever on one of the control tables, green electric waves traveling down the wires and entering your body in trembling shocks.

You don’t know how long you lay there, screaming through the pain before you pass out from how much electricity Jin lets pass into your body. But eventually the room goes black and the last thing you hear is Jin manically laughing from across the room.

“It’s getting worse.”

“I tweaked some things this time. I’m hopeful it lasts longer.”

“It better. I’m tired of losing her.”

You hear quiet voices as you begin to come to. Voices that you recognize almost immediately.

“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks. Almost immediately the door to the small room slides open and the silhouette of the only person you want to see fills the doorway.

“You’re okay, immortelle?” Jungkook rushes into the room and kneels next to the cot you’re laying on.

“What happened to me? Why am I in Jinnie’s lab?” You turn your head to face him when he cups your cheeks in his hands.

“You had another episode, my sweet.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles one by one.

“Episode?” Your brows draw together in confusion.

“You forgot who you were. That you belong to me. You forgot it all.” Jungkook looks sad while he explains and it breaks your heart.

“How could I forget you?” You sit up slowly and he helps you. “How could I forget my love?”

“It’s not your fault, immortelle. Don’t blame yourself.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Jin who stands in the doorway. Jin rolls his eyes before walking away.  

“Take me home?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck when he picks you up into his arms bridal style.

“Of course.” 

Jungkook carries you down the long winding staircase of the laboratory and outside where it’s pitch black besides the white melting candles inside the lamp posts along the street.

A smile pulls across your face when you see all the monsters that you love busy in the streets. They all smile back at you, tossing greetings and wishes of quick recoveries your way.

“They love you.” Jungkook whispers into your ear.

“No. They love you, you’re their pumpkin king. I’m just lucky enough to be yours.” You touch the skull details tattooed on the side of his face so he looks at you.

“You’ll be their queen soon.” He reminds you. You lean up to kiss his lips.

“Let’s get something to eat before we go home. I’m famished.” Jungkook sits you on your feet but keeps your hand in his.

Jungkook talks with some of the shop owners and you watch as he gathers all of your favorite things into a basket. Wines, cheeses, and some sweet treats leftover from the night before. You love him so.

You make your way over to a stand selling haunted dolls and look around at all the choices. You’re about to go back to find Jungkook when someone grabs your arm and twists you around.

“You’re so pretty.” The drunken vampire says, the smell of blood thick on his breath. He’s had too much.

“I appreciate your compliment, but I need you to let go of my arm.” You pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Don’t be that way. Come with me.” He stumbles and almost falls on top of you.

“Get off of me!” You say louder but the vampire doesn’t listen, it’s nails scratching through your skin. You’re about to scream for Jungkook when he’s suddenly there, ripping the vampires hand from your arm.

“May I ask what you think you’re doing? Touching what’s mine?” Jungkook says too calmly.

“I…I didn’t recognize Ms. Y/N…I didn’t realize.” The vampire stumbles over his words.

“Is that your excuse?” Jungkook laughs, the terrifying cackling sound sending tingles through your body.

You know what’s going to happen next, and the thrill alone has you aching between your legs.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never make the mistake again.” The vampire takes a few steps back.

“Immortelle?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to you. He’s asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You nod yes as a smile spreads across your face.

“Remember in your next life my friend, to keep your filthy hands off my girl.” Before you can blink his hand is shooting out between them and into the vampires chest cavity. He holds it there a moment so that he can watch the life drain slowly drain from the vampire before he yanks his hand back out holding the still thumping heart in his hand.

The vampire falls to the ground in a lifeless heep, his eyes still open and eternally full of the fear he last experienced. The crowd around the market doesn’t take offense, they know if their pumpkin kills someone it was for a damn good reason.

Jungkook turns towards you, handing the heart to one of the children playing with the body on the ground. He pats their head and then slowly brings his hand up to his mouth, licking a thick stripe from the bloody palm of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, all while keeping eye contact with you.

You smile, closing the space between the two of you and claiming his mouth. Your tongue seeks out the blood that’s dropped down his chin and around his lips.

“It never gets old…watching you kill for me.” You breathe into his mouth while his blood hands lace into the strands of your hair.

“We need to get home before I show everyone here how well I fuck you.” His mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck as he leads you backwards down the street until your back hits the iron bars of a familiar gate.

Home.

The gate loudly creaks open as soon as it realizes the two of you have arrived. Jungkook stops kissing you to take your hand and walks with you up the stone stairs to the front door that also opens all on its own, the door knocker welcoming you home.

“Do you want to play?” You whisper, making Jungkook pause at the bottom of the stairs. Those tattooed details raising into a smile.

“Okay, immortelle. Let’s play.” He kisses the top of your hand before taking a step back. He slowly slips of his black and white striped suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt before it joins the jacket on the floor.

You soak in the tattooed planes of his body, the muscles begging to be touched. His dark falling over his forehead as he steps back farther into the shadows until he’s completely disappeared from your sight.

“You know what happens if I catch you, immortelle.” His voice floats into your ear from somewhere unknown. “Don’t let me catch you.” 

A thrill shoots through your body again and you sprint for the stairs, loving the way the monsters and ghouls grab at your ankles and whisper your name. You immediately turn left at the top of the stairs, your mind going a million miles an hour trying to think of where you could hide.

He knows all of the good places for hiding.

In a last ditch idea, you run into your shared bedroom upon hearing Jungkook’s footsteps running up the stairs. He took this game of chase so seriously and never took it slowly.

You slide under the bed, your chest heaving in fear but also excitement. You’re hoping by hiding somewhere obvious that he won’t even think to look here and waste his time checking all of the usual spots you tend to hide.

“Where are you, immortelle?” You hear his menacing voice out in the hallway coming closer. You almost giggle. “You know I’ll find you. I will always find you.”

You hear his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door and then the door slowly opens right after, lightly hitting against the wall behind it. 

Jungkook’s heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak as he walks into the room. You throw a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noises. Jungkook undoes the buckle of his belt and a moment later slips it from his belt loops and lets it clang against the hardwood floor.

“Are you soaked for me right now, my love?” You watch with wide eyes as Jungkook slowly walks around the bed. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

He doesn’t say anything else and when you look around at the floor you notice that he’s no longer next to the bed, his black boots no longer anywhere in sight. You release a long breath of relief.

And then you’re being yanked by the ankle from beneath the bed, a startled scream escaping you as you flip onto your back just in time to see Jungkook trap you with his body against the floor.

“You caught me.” You smile, lifting your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction against your core.

“Don’t I always?” His mouth is on yours, his hands pushing your dress up around your hips.

He was desperate for you too.

“I love you.” You whisper on his lips, the tattooed skeleton grin on his beautiful face turning upwards.

Jungkook sits up on his knees between your legs giving you a full view of his naked torso. Pretty muscles and flawless skin that you ached to leave your mark on. Scratches and bite marks and bruises were the only things that could make him more perfect.

Your chest heaves as you watch him reach behind his back in the band of his black dress pants to retrieve a silver shiny knife. Your pulse quickens immediately.

“Is this what you want, immortelle?” He presses the cold steel flat against the inside of your thigh, keeping the blade from cutting you just yet.

“Will you torture me?” You ask, your hands coming up to cup your breasts with anticipation.

“Absolutely.” Jungkook moves the knife farther up your skin until the point brushes over underwear. You moan pathetically at the feel of it brushing over your center and slowly sliding over onto your other thigh.

“Jungkook…” you sigh.

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you want.” Jungkook uses his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants, pushing them down until his perfect cock springs free from the confines.

You bite your lip at the sight in front of you. Jungkook slowly strokes himself to the sight of the knife moving across your skin. He draws the sharp side of the blade oh so gently across your stomach, so sharp you don’t even feel it draw blood. The view of you on display for him makes him groan and move his hand a bit rougher up and down his shaft. 

Your fingers move on their own accord, slipping through the small pool of blood on your stomach and moving them back over your breasts to smear the crimson liquid in a trail.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so perfect.” Jungkook moves the knife to your throat, gently leaving one long cut from one side to the other. You immediately feel warm blood leave the wound and drip down the sides of your neck.

Jungkook drops the knife to the floor and bends over your body to attach his mouth to your neck. He licks and sucks at your blood, whimpering at the taste of it on his tongue. Your body instinctively arches from the ground, your chest rubbing against his and spreading more of your blood between your bodies. It was the most beautiful visual you could imagine.

You looked down between your bodies to see Jungkook’s hand still stroking his cock as he continues to move his mouth down your body to the cut on your stomach. You can barely stand the burn in the pit of your stomach any longer, your desire for the man on top of you smoldering too hot.

“I need you now. Please.” You lace your hands into Jungkook’s hair and lift his face. The sight of his face covered in your blood, his eyes solid black with lust almost does you in completely.

“Such a good girl, saying please.” He moves back onto his knees, squeezing precum from the head of his cock before he releases it completely and picks the knife back up off the floor. You watch in awe as he brings it to his mouth and licks the blood from the blade.

“I always want to be good for you.” You say sweetly. His cock twitches at the sound of your obedient voice.

Jungkook moves the knife down between your legs and ever so carefully pressed the sharp blade to your underwear and drags it down until the fabric slices apart and reveals your absolutely drenched pussy to him. The knife clangs to the floor again and Jungkook leans back down to claim your mouth, his thumb immediately finding your clit.

Your lips part to moan and his tongue swipes against yours swallowing up all the sounds that escape you. The dripping head of his cock suddenly swipes through your folds and causes a high pitched whine to bubble up your throat.

“Is your pussy desperate to be filled, immortelle?” His hand swipes the blood on your stomach before it’s back on his cock, the blood lubing his shaft to make it easier when he fucks himself into you.

“Yes. It hurts, Jungkook.” You let your hands wander his chest and stomach, watching him watch you.

“I’m not going to last long once I get inside your perfect pussy, my love. But I need you to cum and I need you to scream.” Without warning he roughly spears himself inside you, his hands holding you on his cock as you writhe from the sudden intrusion.

“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to move, rough and hard.

“Made for me. I literally had you made just for me and you’re perfect. So fucking perfect and pliant just for me.” Jungkook’s hand comes down to your throat, careful of the cut across your skin, he gently tightens his grip.

You immediately see stars, wrapping both of your hands around his wrist to keep him in place. You gasp and moan at the feeling of him controlling your breathing and ruining your pussy at the same time. 

“I’m going to come. God I’m coming right now.” The words are quiet as he continues to hold your throat but he hears you just fine, moving his hand from your throat to play with your clit.

“Scream. I need you to scream so I can fill you up.” You open your eyes to see Jungkook watching you, his hair sweaty and mouth parted. Just when you’re about to beg for a kiss he punches your clit between his fingers and your orgasm rolls through you like a hurricane.

Black and white sparks explode behind your eyes and though you can’t hear yourself, you know that you scream loud and high pitched. Just what Jungkook needs to find his own end, dropping on top of you as he continues to fill you past the brim and onto your thighs.

Dried blood scratches between your skin and his as he lies on top of you, his head against your chest and your hands roaming the expanse of his broad shoulders. 

“You’re okay, immortelle?” He finally asks through his heavy breathing.

“I am, of course.” You lift his face to place a kiss to his lips.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed this time.” He laughs lightly, groaning as he pulls out and helps you sit up with him.

“I didn’t mind.” You both smile knowing he feels the same.

“I’ll never mind being with you, immortelle. Never.” He touches your cheek and kisses your lips once more.

“Even if…even if I keep forgetting?” 

“Even then. We are simply meant to be, my love.”

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || Ch. 25]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

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Words: 4.4k

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It is a beautiful Sunday morning at the Bronx Zoo - the sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there is hardly a crowd to speak of. Tourist season is over, and the school year has just started, so all the locals who would be here with their kids are otherwise preoccupied. Navigating through the pathways has been a breeze and there has been no one to block your view of the animals.

Another perk from the lack of patrons is the opportunity for a unique interaction at one of the exhibits Minnie was the most excited to visit.

“You has…you have very pretty fur,” Mouse whispers to the massive lowland gorilla that is mere inches from her face. There is a thick glass barrier between them, but you can’t help but feel a little bit nervous, especially with how the great ape has her full attention on your daughter. Large soulful eyes are focused on your little one as she gives compliment after toddler compliment. 

“It's a lot of colors and it looks really really soft,” Minnie continues on, nose practically smooshed flat against the glass. “I bets you gotta brush it lots. Mommy brushes my hair, but I can do it myself. Like a Big Girl.”

The gorilla responds by chewing on some leaves that she has in her hands. It is what she has been doing since she came down from the trees to sit right in front of you five minutes ago. This, of course, doesn’t deter Minnie at all and she asks, “Does your Mommy brush your hair, too?” 

As she has her imaginary conversation, you steal a glance at Matt.

After you learned about his senses, you thought joining you at the zoo would be torture for him. Even though the exhibits are kept clean, you know they must smell awful and there are loud birds screeching everywhere. It is completely different from the city noises he must be used to, and you even packed ear plugs and ibuprofen for if it became too much, but to your surprise, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. 

Minnie has taken on her role as his Guide, excitedly explaining what each animal is and what they look like, to the best of her abilities - making you oh so proud. You’ve noticed that as your daughter takes in the sights, Matt will tilt his head minutely - his tell that he is intently listening to something. Occasionally, he’s asked a question - usually pointing to an animal Minnie did not describe and asking what it is. You’ve found lots of hidden creatures that way.

You cannot imagine what inputs he must be receiving from the gorilla in front of him. You know humans and great apes are closely related, but how does that come across to Matt? The smell must be different, but is he able to distinguish between her heartbeat and the heartbeat of someone observing her? Do her lungs sound human? 

Can he tell if she’s sick or well taken care of? Is that something he can determine in an animal he has no history with? 

He must sense you looking at him because he tilts his head towards you and grins. Your heart squeezes in your chest and your stomach does a sort of funny flip. 

He is so handsome and charming, and you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You weren’t prepared to get into a physical relationship with Matt, but you don’t want to roll back on it. 

You like how touchy he has been all morning. It hasn’t been anything obscene or inappropriate, but his hand has found its way around your waist more than once. On the subway, standing in line, or even just watching the animals, if you were next to him, he’d wrap you up and pull you a little closer. His hand would rub up and down your side and each time you’d feel like a little picture-perfect family on an outing.

You haven’t kissed in front of Minnie, but you have both been sneaking them in - when you woke up, when you were making breakfast, when Mouse was preoccupied getting ready. 

You feel giddy and like you belong in a teen romance movie. This is something you haven’t had in such a long time - or ever really - and you don’t want to ruin it by overthinking.

You made a deal with yourself that morning - you were going to enjoy your trip to the zoo with your family and you were not going to overanalyze sleeping with Matt. It will be a tomorrow problem.  

Right now, you are going to soak in all the goodness that is happening - including the pleasant ache in your core from getting thoroughly fucked.

You break yourself out of your own head and take a small step, so you are properly beside Matt. You reach up and wrap your arm around his bicep, leaning into him a little as you ask, “Who would win in a fight - you or the gorilla?” 

“Oh, the gorilla,” he whispers back. “She’s all muscle and teeth. One good whack would easily break bone and even I’ve heard the stories about angry primates. I’m not that reckless.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much, then you lightly squeeze his arm and tease, “Exactly how reckless are you?”

You don’t realize the innuendo until the words leave your lips and then you can’t take it back. Matt’s grin only grows, and he ducks just slightly so he can nuzzle into your ear to purr, “would you like to find out?”

Your face heats up and you have to hide your face in his shoulder, so you don’t die from absolute embarrassment. He gently pulls his arm from your grasp so he can instead wrap it around you and hold you firm against him. He rocks you slightly and you conclude that yes, Matt is very much enjoying his time out at the zoo. 

In front of you, the gorilla stuffs the last of her leaves in her mouth, chewing slowly as Minnie babbles away about hair care. 

“..and if you braids it, it makes it super-duper wavy after,” she wisely tells her new friend, “You could be really poofy. Like a flower.” She pauses, then you watch her as she watches the great ape stand back up and start to walk away. You expect her to be sad, but instead, your sweet girl just calls out, “Okay, bye-bye, I love you!” before whirling around to beam up at you. 

“Can we go see the mices now?” she asks, all sunshine and rainbows. 

To your great amusement, Minnie is dead set on following the plan she made. She only wants to visit certain animals and she must see them in a certain sequence. She brought the map of the zoo you bought her all those months ago - the one she’s drawn all over and has practically memorized - and they are your marching orders. You and Matt are more than happy to follow her lead - especially because she does not want to see any of the birds, which saves you a lot of walking. 

“Let’s go to the Mouse House,” Matt agrees. 

You have to pull away from him to be able to walk and your little Mouse goes right for your hand so she can hold it. She has been extra good all day about holding your hand and staying by your side - loudly saying she’s a Big Girl and can follow all the rules. You’ve been very impressed with her determination and definitely plan to reward her for her behavior. 

Matt falls into line beside you as you begin to lead the way, lightly grabbing at your elbow. You feel a tad bad for taking up so much space on the path, but luckily there is no one around. 

“What did you think of the gorillas?” you ask as you make your way to the next exhibit. 

“They’re amazing!” Mouse says with the biggest little grin, “She was really big and pretty and soft and went…she went,” she proceeds to make soft little grunts like you imagine a monkey would make, but you didn’t hear the gorilla make any noises beyond chewing.

“She really liked you, huh?” Matt teases with a little hum, his own smile as large as his daughter’s. 

“She did!” Minnie absolutely preens, “She’s my favorite!” 

Every animal has been her favorite, but you do think, for the moment, the gorilla does take the cake. 

“You’re favorite, huh?” You muse, “I don’t know, I think the tiger was really cool.” The cat had been much larger and vibrantly colored than you expected, and you had been a little bit starstruck by the apex predator. You might just see if there are any tiger shirts in the gift shop.

“He was sleepy!” Minnie proclaims, and it is true - the tiger was enjoying a midmorning snooze.

“What about you, Matt, who has been your favorite?” 

He makes a show of tilting his head back and forth as he thinks, “My favorite? I liked the elephants - I didn’t expect them to be that large and using their noses like that is…unique.” 

“It’s called their trunk!” Mouse eagerly tells her father, repeating what the zookeeper told you. “They can use it…to… to …to… grab things and drink water!” To emphasize her point, she raises her free arm up to her face and mimics an elephant’s trunk waving around. 

“That is impressive,” he says, “can you do that with your nose?” 

Minnie halts, then screws up her face to try to wiggle her nose. She purses her lips and pushes them around, but she does not succeed in independently moving her cute little nose. She does not give up right away, proceeding with multiple attempts before declaring rather cheerily, “Nope!”

You both laugh at your daughter’s antics as you start walking again. As you get closer to your destination, your little one gets more and more excited - she takes bigger steps, and you can tell she wants to run towards the building. 

At first, she thought one giant mouse lived in the Mouse House, but you explained it held lots of little houses for different types of rodents. Now, you think, she is determined to make sure all her tiny brethren are happy in their homes. She takes her role as Mouse Princess very seriously, after all. 

Like the Congo Forest, the Mouse House has a scarce population of humans. You let go of your daughter’s hand once in the darkness of the building so she can run up to view the first set of new friends. Once she is thoroughly distracted and talking to the little creatures, Matt moves. 

He lets go of your arm to slip behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You rub at his forearm as you pull your phone out - you don’t want to miss any cute moments of Minnie with her subjects. As you bring up the camera app, Matt nuzzles at your neck, placing a sweet kiss there. 

“Good day, so far?” He asks against you, and you can’t help but smile and duck your head a little. You aren’t used to affection, let alone public affection, and his attention makes you a bit dizzy. 

“So far, so good,” you whisper in response. To distract yourself from how solid Matt is against your back and how he’s practically wrapped around you, you start tapping at your phone to get it to focus in the low light. “Are you having a good time?”

He hums into your skin, then gives another kiss, “the best time. Doesn’t smell nearly as bad as I thought it would and the animals seem well taken care of.” 

“It’s AZA accredited,” you instantly chime, and he huffs against you. You did so much research about the zoo beforehand, so that you could answer any questions Minnie had. So far, she’s had zero. 

“I don’t know what that means.”

You angle your phone to get a picture of Minnie and the enclosure she’s looking into, and whisper back, “It’s like the board that makes sure the zoos are humane and everything is done properly.” 

He hums again, then buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You try to not shiver, but you do end up pressing back into his hold as you watch your daughter. You fall into a pleasant silence, swaying slightly in Matt’s arms, as Minnie moves between the different displays. She has no apparent interest in learning the types of animals she’s looking at - she goes right into talking to them. When she gets a little too far away, you gently guide Matt down the hallway, all while he stays wrapped around you. 

“I like your feetsies,” Mouse tells an elephant shrew, and you turn on your camera to record her interrogate the little creature. “How many toes do you have? I can…I see…I see three toes. Do you have three toes? I gots five. But they go in shoes. You don’t haves shoes. Where are your shoes?”

You and Matt follow Minnie all through the Mouse House for almost thirty minutes. You let her take her time - you are in no rush to go back out into the heat, and you want her to not only enjoy herself, but tire herself out. She’ll get a burst of energy after lunch, but by the time you leave for the day, you hope to be a zonked-out toddler. 

At the last of the exhibits, Matt gently nips at your throat before mumbling against it, “I have a surprise after this.”

You have no idea what he could possibly have up his sleeve, but whatever it is, it is making him start to grin and get a bit of cockiness to his voice. So, to tease him right back, you play dumb.

“After this?”

“After the Mouse House,” he confirms, squeezing you and rocking you in place. You start to smile at his teasing and let yourself enjoy it. 

You hum, then begin to trace your fingers over one of the hands on your hips as you question, “A surprise? After the Mouse House?”

“A surprise after the Mouse House.”

That, of course, gets Mouse’s attention. She whirls around, eyes going wide with toddler excitement as she asks, “A surprise?”

“After the Mouse House,” Matt repeats, a mix of pride and smugness in his words. You can tell he is enjoying this interaction and that funny feeling in your heart and stomach return. 

“Is it a pony?!”

You pull away from Matt just as he starts to laugh, and as you do Minnie hurries over to take your place. He scoops her up into her arms, and with all the fondness in the world, tells her, “No, it’s not a pony.”

She dramatically flops over his shoulders with a big pout, then, like it was all a joke, hurriedly moves to hug him around his neck and with pure toddler innocence tell him, “You’re better than a pony!” 

Always ready for their sweet moments, you snap multiple pictures as Matt hugs his daughter back tightly and you just barely hear him whisper back, “I think you’re better than a pony, too.”

As always, it takes him a few moments to release Minnie and set her back down. She instantly latches onto his hand and begins to shake it vigorously, “I wanna know the surprise!” 

Matt is quick to concede to her demands, “Okay, okay, sweetheart. Let’s go to the surprise.” 

You put your phone back into your purse so you can slip over to the pair and offer your arm to Matt. He takes it just above your elbow, and you start towards the exit of the Mouse House, Minnie skipping along on the other side of Matt.

You’ve not walked with Matt before where he is the one to lead you, but you are sure to be in step with him, so no one takes a second look. His cane is folded up and tucked into your purse, so you don’t think anyone would guess he is blind just by looking at him, but your anxiety tells you someone is always watching and one little slip up will have people questioning you. 

Once out in the sunshine, Matt directs you back towards the gorillas again. You are confused about what could possibly be back that way that you don’t already know about, but you trust him.

“For your surprise,” he says to Minnie as you walk, “you have to be quiet, okay? We can't be loud and attract other people because this surprise is a secret.”

That has you even more curious about what could possibly be going on, but you focus on your daughter’s reaction to the request. You know she knows what a secret is, but you don’t remember if you’ve ever asked her to keep a secret before.

Mouse’s free hand goes into her mouth as she thinks over Matt’s request, and you try to not gag. Her fingers must be covered in all sorts of germs, and you should have been more on top of sanitizing them. A nice lesson in hindsight.

Moments later, she drops her hand, and she looks up to Matt and squints suspiciously, “can Mommy know the secret?”

Pride streaks through you at her question and you might get a little bit teary eyed. She never fails to amaze you with how her mind works and what information she takes in. The fact she’s aware she shouldn’t keep secrets from you is probably the highlight of your week - Matt eating you out included.

“Of course, Mommy can know the secret,” Matt tells her instantly, “We should not keep any secrets from Mommy. It’s important she knows everything so she can keep us safe and happy.” 

As he says that, he squeezes your arm a little and you know he is talking about himself as well. You remember all the times he’s told you he doesn’t want to keep anything from you, and you know he’s telling the truth. He’s been very open with you about everything, even if it has taken some time for everything to rise to the surface. You don’t blame him for that at all - the things he keeps close to the chest are pretty important and you more than understand him not telling you on day one.

But he did tell you, and he has been honest about not being ready to divulge everything just yet, and that is what matters. 

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Minnie mimics and you have a feeling that is going to be added to her repeated phrases.

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Matt repeats, then adds, “Can we be quiet, though, so other people don’t know?” 

Mouse nods and you have a feeling that whatever Matt has planned is going to get her extremely worked up. 

You end up in a very secluded inlet, away from the main path, surrounded by trees, and part of you wonders if you are meant to be able to come to this spot. There is no one else around and you don’t know what sort of surprise Matt could possibly have that requires you to come here.

Your questions are answered only seconds later, when a friendly voice comes from above you.

“Hi, there!”

You jerk your head up, and hanging there upside down from a tree, is Spider-Man. 

Your daughter loses her fucking mind. 

It’s like it is in slow motion - Minnie gasps with her whole body before dropping Matt’s hand. She turns to latch onto his pants, instead, and begins to pull on them over and over with enough force you think she’ll rip them. You don’t know if she remembers that she’s supposed to be quiet or if she’s so excited she can no longer vocalize, but she starts to whisper-scream.

“Daddy, Daddy! It’s Spidey-Man! It’s Spidey-Man!!!”

You try to not go slack-jaw in your own amazement as the vigilante lets go of his web and drops to the ground right in front of your daughter, doing a backflip in the process. 

“That’s me!” Spider-Man declares, and he sounds way younger than you thought he would. “I heard it was your birthday, so I had to come and say ‘Hi’!” 

You rip your eyes away from the hero to stare at Matt and he looks like he is trying to not look smug as hell. You have no idea how he pulled this off - this is the real Spider-Man. The fake ones can’t hang from webs and sneak into zoos. 

Does he work with Spider-Man when he’s out as Daredevil? And did he actually request for the man to come say Happy Birthday to Minnie? Does that mean he knows who Spider-Man is behind the mask? And vice versa?

“It’s my birthday!” Minnie chokes out and she sounds like she is about to start crying. You know she loves the hero, but you did not think he would get such an intense reaction. You turn your gaze back to her, your own excitement growing in your belly.

“Happy Birthday, Minnie!” Spider-Man tells her in the cheeriest voice, before crouching down and throwing open his arms, “Do you want a hug?” 

He barely finishes getting the words out before Mouse is letting go of Matt to launch herself at him. He wraps her up in a hug and she just clings on. You want so badly to take a picture, but you respect that this is a secret meeting just for your baby. 

You’ll just have to commit every moment to memory.

Matt has let go of your arm, so you turn so you can grab onto his bicep again. You lean against him and let yourself grin like an idiot as you watch your daughter with her hero.

“Your Dad told me that you’re really smart and like to learn new things,” Spider-Man says to the top of Mouse’s head. You wonder exactly how much information about your family was exchanged, but that’s something you can review later. 

Minnie just barely nods against the man’s chest, and you can hear her start to talk, muffled against his suit, “I knows my ABCs and how to count ands I can do one plus one.” 

“You can do one plus one?!” 

“Elmo taughts me,” she explains in the sweetest and watery voice, “Its two.”

“That’s amazing,” Spider-Man tells her, “Keep watching Sesame Street, it has a lot of good lessons. Do you like Beaker and Dr. Honeydew from the Muppets? They were my favorites when I was little like you.” 

Minnie squirms against Spider-Man and you expect her to pull away, but apparently, she is just getting more comfortable, because she nuzzles back into him and goes, “Meep, Meep.” 

You laugh into Matt’s shoulder, overwhelmed with how sweet she is. Matt gently pulls his arm from you so he can yet again hold you close. You hand moves from his bicep to his chest, and you curl your fingers into his shirt, over his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away from your daughter to look at his expression, but you have a feeling it is a lot like yours.

“That’s right, ‘meep, meep, meep, MEEP,’” the vigilante does a good Beaker impression, causing a round of giggles. “Well, because you are so smart and your Dad is a pretty cool guy, I got you something I think Dr. Honeydew and Beaker would approve of.” 

Your eyes go wide at the statement, and you cannot believe what you heard - Spider-Man, the famous New York vigilante, got your daughter a birthday gift?

Apparently, Minnie can’t believe it either, as she pulls back just a little so she can look up at him, and asks in the tiniest voice, “A presents?”

“A present!” He explains, then, so fast you barely see him do it, he flicks out a hand and shoots a string of web up into the trees where he has been waiting. Then he pulls and a box comes flying back at him. He expertly catches it, and you can see it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper that has white sparkly snowflakes all over it - clearly Christmas themed. You don’t think Minnie cares at all, because when it is held out to her, her little brown eyes just get so big.

“For you! Happy Birthday!” 

Mouse looks back at you for permission and you quickly nod. She delicately takes the gift and once it is fully in her grasp, tears into it. As soon as it is free of its prison, she holds it up in triumph, “A mibo-scope!”

It is indeed a miniature microscope - at least that is the main picture on the box. You think it is one of those ‘Baby’s first science kit’ type things and you just know you are going to spend so much time over the next week hunched over it with Minnie. 

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Matt gently prompts and she instantly throws herself back into Spider-Man’s chest. She drops the box in the process, but the vigilante has lightning-fast reflexes and catches it before it hits the ground. He sets it aside before properly hugging your daughter again.

“Thank you, Spidey-Man! You’re…you’re the bestest! Bestest-bestest! I loves you!” 

“Aw, thank you! I love you, too!” 

There is a gentle pressure to the top of your head, and you realize Matt has turned his so he can press his lips there. You shuffle even closer to him, tightening your grip on his shirt. 

As you watch your daughter hug her favorite super-hero, you realize you have never been this happy before in your life. Everything in this moment is perfect. You would not change anything at all, and you do not think you would change anything that lead up to this moment of time. You wish and pray you could trap the day in a bottle and hold it in your heart forever. 

You and your precious Winifred Love are blessed that not only is Matthew Murdock a good man, but he is also a good father. 

---

a/n:

And that concludes Season 1 of 'and then I met you'!

Next, we are onto Season 2 and diving into the Sokovia Accords and how it will affect our perfect little family.

Special thanks to @ebathory997 for their help with information about the Bronx Zoo and special shout out to @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @she-likesorchids and @loveroftoomanyfandoms for all of their amazing support <3 You guys are amazing and I could not have written any of this without y'all.

--

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[sincerelykimii]

𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞?

𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶．

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘹 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

𝐀/𝐍: 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳？𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴！

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: Despite being one of the most powerful and overall dangerous members, you're known as a ray of sunshine, always optimistic and always making the best out of the worst. He however, is quite the opposite. Right now, you were in the kitchen at the avengers compound, making some strawberries and chocolate. It was late evening, everyone was asleep. You were up watching stuff due to your usual problems with insomnia, but you couldn’t Ignore the rumble in your stomach. Humming a soft tune of a familiar song you couldn’t remember. Your hands were attached to the knife as you cut the fresh strawberries infront of you, glancing over at the stove, your chocolate melted slowly, the scent lingering through the kitchen, filling your senses with delight. Caught up in the moment you didn’t notice Bucky entering the kitchen, to be fair he was as quiet as a mouse. His deep, gruff voice, clear he had just awoken startled you, making you drop the knife a little too loud on the counter. “Jesus Bucky…”

He raises a brow at your reaction, taking a sip of his water. He sets the glass down on the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. He seems almost...amused by your small jump scare. “Didn’t mean to startle ya doll.” My eyes follow his hands as he sets the glass back down, when did he even…? Anyways. I smile warmly at him, hand over my chest, feeling my heart rate quiet down. “that’s okay, what are you doing up? Did I wake you? I’m so sorry if I did.” The words stutter out, he always did make me nervous. He moves closer, leaning against the counter beside you. His usual stoic demeanor softens slightly as he catches the scent of chocolate. "No…no, couldn't sleep. You didn't wake me." He pauses, watching your hands work with the strawberries.

I nod my head focusing my attention back to the knife in hand, I can’t help but blush at the proximity between Bucky and I. He’s not the most talkative person but he always keeps a conversation going with me, makes me feel…loved. A few moments later, I’m popping the plate of chocolate covered strawberries into the freezer. Bucky hasn’t said much since he’s been in here, just observing, I break the silence humming the same tune from earlier.

His eyes never leaving you as you hum that tune. He can't quite place it, but it's soothing in a way that only you manage to be. He watches as you put the plate in the freezer, his gaze lingering on the way your fingers brush against the handle. Finally turning to face Bucky, my eyes meet his as he is already looking at me. “Hi” my tone is softer than before, his eyes melting my heart. I smile warmly at him, the same smile that spreads across my face anytime my eyes catch a glimpse of his. There's a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost like he's fighting a smile. He doesn't do warm and fuzzy often, but something about your genuine smile makes him want to try. He suddenly straightens up. "How'd you get that cut on your finger?"

My brows furrow just as quickly as his did looking down at my finger, there it was, a small cut, barely noticeable. “I’m not sure…do you think any blood got on my strawberries?”

The frown that appears on your face, throws Bucky for a loop, his heart racing as he notices it. He can't help but chuckle at your expression, finding it adorable that you're more worried about your strawberries than the small cut. He reaches out and gently takes your finger in his calloused hand, examining the tiny cut. "It's barely a scratch." He's not usually one to notice small details, but he finds himself studying your face more than the cut on your finger. Your stomach flips more times than It should, the feeling of his surprisingly warms hands on yours, has your cheeks darker than the strawberries. You can’t help but admire his face, his squinted eyes, barely creased at the corners. His soft lips parted ever so slightly, and his small nose scrunches while examining the scratch. The same thoughts that are running through your head are in bucky’s just as much as yours, he can't help but notice the way your cheeks flush under his scrutiny, making you look even cuter than usual.

“It’s all good.”

His voice pulls me from my thoughts, focusing my attention back onto the cut. “Oh! my strawberries should be finished by now.” I pull the plate from the freezer placing it infront of Bucky, “you ever had these before?” He pulls the plate closer, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the chocolate-covered strawberries. He's had his fair share of sweets, but something about these looks particularly enticing. He picks one up, examining it carefully before bringing it to his mouth. "No, I don't think so."

my eyes follow his movements, almost trance like. He’s so intriguing, it’s hard not too, “It’s my favorite snack, always had a sweet tooth.” I pick one up, bringing it to my lips taking a slow savoring bite. The pretty blush color from the strawberry leaving a tint on my lips.

His eyes linger on your lip, the faint blush of the strawberry tinting your smile a shade that seems to taunt his thoughts. He takes a bite of his own strawberry, the rich chocolate melding perfectly with the sweet, juicy fruit. The sight in front of you is too die for, his lips quirk up ever so slightly into a smile, barely ghosting on his lips. His eyes flutter close momentarily, allowing you to really take in his features for a moment longer. When he opens his eyes again, they lock onto yours. There's a softness there that you rarely see, a warmth that seems to draw you in. He sets the half-eaten strawberry back on the plate and leans in closer, his voice low. "You have chocolate on your lip."

my cheeks flush immediately, almost embarrassed. I can only gaze into his eyes, seeing the warmth in them has my head fuzzy, “can you?” I say softly, leaning in a bit closer. Without breaking eye contact, Bucky reaches out with his thumb, gently brushing it across your bottom lip. His touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the callouses on his fingers. He lingers for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. Your breath hitches, not at his touch, but the way his eyes linger on your lips. Your eyes meet his, flickering between the two blue orbs before pulling away from his embrace. “thank you.” I whisper.

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐑: the sun comes shining strong through my window. My eyes focused on the ceiling fan spinning quickly above me. Finally having enough energy I sit up swinging my feet off the bed letting them lead me to the bathroom. A few moments later, teeth and hair brushed, I walk in the living room, eyes immediately landing on Buckys. I flash him a warm smile as I usually do, before taking a seat on the sofa a few spots away from him. Even though we’re dating, he’s still getting used to the comfort, so I give him all the space he needs till I know he’s ready. Bucky is sitting on the armchair, a book open on his lap but his eyes aren't focused on the pages. He looks up as you enter the room, his expression unreadable. He watches as you sit on the sofa, the warm smile you give him making his mind reel.

The silence floats in the air comfortably, “mornin buck, how’d you sleep?” I say softly, my voice is still a bit raspy from awakening. He closes the book and sets it aside, his gaze never leaving yours. He rubs the back of his neck, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he tries to formulate a response. "I slept fine," he says gruffly, his voice a low rumble. my brows furrow at his response, easily identifying the lie coursing through it, “I know when you’re lying buck, you gotta get some sleep sweetheart.”

His jaw clenches briefly at your use of 'sweetheart', you call everyone sweetheart, but there’s something about the way it rolls off your tongue whenever it’s directed towards him, for some reason it makes his heart skip beat. He runs a hand through his hair, the signs of a restless night visible in the slight messiness. "How do you know?" he asks, more curious than annoyed. I shrug my shoulders, “I know what insomnia looks like, I’ve been through it countless times.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. He knows all too well the effects of insomnia, the constant tossing and turning, the never-ending thoughts that keep you awake. "What helps you sleep?" I press my lips together softly, I can’t tell him he’s the reason I sleep so good at night, knowing I’ll get up and see his face…his beautiful smile, his terrible dad jokes he whispers to Steve unaware I heard, his concentrated face while reading a new book, he’s the reason I sleep at night…but he’ll never know that, not now at least. “I’m not sure…”

He notices the slight hesitation in your response, the way your eyes dart away for a moment. He feels a strange pang of jealousy, wondering if there's someone else who helps you sleep so peacefully. He pushes the thought aside, focusing on the conversations instead. "Maybe we should try something new,"

“don’t keep me on my toes Barnes.”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth at your playful jab. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ever tried meditation? Or maybe some of those bizarre sleep apps Steve raves about?" I chuckle softly, everytime steve saw something new he would rant to Bucky and I about it, it’s quite sweet actually. “I’ve tried meditation, I just can’t sit still for that…you know what! I’ve seen people fall asleep to asmr.” my lips quirk up in a smile knowing Bucky has no clue what asmr is.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, the term 'asmr' foreign to his ears. He tilts his head, studying you with a curious expression. "Asmr? What the hell is that?" He asks, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and curiosity. Ive never pulled my phone out so fast, finding a video. I hand the phone to Bucky letting him watch the video of a girl having her hair played with, “it looks very relaxing.”

Bucky takes the phone, his eyes widening slightly as he watches the video. He listens to the gentle whispers, the soft brushing of the comb through her hair, and the soothing sounds of the girl's voice. His expression softens, and he finds himself strangely entranced by the calming scene. "Huh,"

My eyes admire his softened features instead of watching the video, “what do you say buck?” I can’t help the smile growing on my face. Bucky lowers the phone, a rueful smile spreading across his face as he catches your admiring gaze. He shakes his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd be considering hair brushing videos as a cure for insomnia," he chuckles softly, handing the phone back to you. I take the phone from his hand letting my fingers linger on his for a moment longer, “well it won’t cure it, but it’ll help definitely.” I say softly.

He notices the lingering touch, his heart skips a beat at the gentle contact. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Yeah, it does seem pretty relaxing," He pauses, his gaze drifting back to the video for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Wanna..."

“Tonight. I’ll come to your room or you can come to mine, and I’ll be your asmrist for the night.” I say playfully before standing up. Bucky rises to his feet as well, a amused smirk plastered across his face. "Asmrist? I think you mean ASMRtist," he corrects, shaking his head in mock disbelief. He steps closer to you, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. The giggle that left your lips had buckys heart racing, he swears he’s never heard such a sweeter thing. “Oh so you’re a pro now Barnes, I’ll remember that for tonight sweetheart.” with that I disappear back to my room.

The sun finally sets, and everyone is already in bed. I leave my room, heading to the living room, Bucky is already sitting on the couch, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks up at you as you enter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ready?”

“Ready.” he whispers, trying to suppress a grin.

I smile softly taking his hand in mine, leading him to my room. Bucky follows you willingly, his heart pounding in his chest at the prospect of the evening ahead. He settles onto your bed, positioning himself comfortably against the headboard. He watches you with an amused expression as you arrange yourself behind him, his muscles tensing slightly at your proximity. My hands move slowly as they finally make contact with his shoulders, “relax buck, I’ll be gentle.” I whisper rubbing small circles on his arm with my thumb. Bucky takes a deep breath, the tension slowly starting to melt away under your gentle touch. He leans back slightly, allowing himself to be more comfortable against you. "Easy for you to say," he murmurs, though his tone is light and teasing.

my smile never left, only growing wider at his words. I hush him as I move my hands to his hair, letting my fingers run through his surprisingly soft locks, untangling any knots I find. He lets out a soft sigh as you run your fingers through his hair, the gentle touch soothing his frazzled nerves. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access to the knots and tangles. "You're really good at this," he comments, his voice low and content. I let another giggle fall from my lips, “Here, lay back and rest your head on my thigh, it’ll be a bit more comfortable.” the suggestion picks up his heart rate a bit more than it should’ve, “if you want too sweetheart.” I say softly, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. He hesitates for a brief moment, his cheeks coloring slightly at the intimate suggestion. But with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he slowly lays back, resting his head on your thigh. His breath is steady but his pulse betrays his inner turmoil.

placing my hands back in his hair, I repeat my movements from earlier. “comfortable?” I coo quietly. He nods silently, his eyes drifting closed as you continue to work out the knots in his hair. The warmth of your thigh against his head and the soothing touch of your hands is incredibly comforting, and he finds himself relaxing even further. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. I sigh contently, my eyes admiring his relaxed expression. “I’ve got you buck, you can fall asleep.” I whisper before humming the same tune from last night.

His breath becomes softer and more rhythmic, his muscles completely relaxed now. The humming lulls him even further, and he finds himself drifting in that sweet space between wakefulness and sleep. His hand unconsciously moves to rest on your knee for support. "Don't stop..." the sight has my heart beating out of my chest, I wonder if he can hear it. “I won’t honey, rest. You need it.” I say softly, my fingers moving subconsciously through his hair. He inhales deeply, taking in your comforting scent as he nestles his head further onto your lap. His mind is fuzzy, his thoughts blurring together, but one thing is clear - he feels safe. He feels... loved.

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐓𝐮𝐧𝐞: You and Bucky are in the living room simply enjoying eachothers company. He’s reading a book and you’re laying down, listening to music. the song you never know the name of comes on, you began humming softly.

So this is love, mm.

He glances up from his book as he hears the familiar humming. He recognizes the tune, though he still doesn't know the name. He pauses, his fingers marking his place in the book, and listens more intently. Completely lost in the song, eyes closed, you don’t notice Bucky watching you instead of reading. You continue humming the song letting a few words slip as you sing along.

So this is what makes life divine…

He sets his book aside, giving you his full attention. He's captivated by the sound of your voice, the way you effortlessly bring the melody to life. He finds himself leaning forward slightly, drawn in by the raw emotion in your humming. "What's that song?" My eyes flutter open slowly landing on his, “So this is love.” I reply finally looking at my phone seeing the song that’s been stuck in my head for what feels like months. "Yeah? What're the words? That part you keep humming..." He reaches out and gently takes the phone from your hands, bringing the screen closer to his face so he can see the lyrics better. His fingers brush against yours, deliberately lingering for a moment. "Mind if I..."

I shake my head handing him the phone, “go for it.”

He takes the phone, holding it close as he reads the lyrics silently to himself. A soft, wistful smile tugs at his lips as he realizes the song seems to echo the tender feelings blossoming between you two. He glances up at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. I furrow my brows seeing the same mischievous glint in his eyes that always mirror in mine, “what?” I whisper sitting up.

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and inviting. "This song suits you," he says with a gentle smile. "You've been... singing it without even realizing it. Like it's a part of you now." I chuckle softly, “It only comes to my head when I’m around you.” I say softly. His expression softens considerably at your admission. There's a gentle intimacy in his eyes now, unguarded and vulnerable. He shifts closer on the couch, close enough that the fabric of his shirt brushes against your arm. "That's... interesting," he says quietly. “why’s that?” I reply back, moving close enough, our sides are met with eachother.

He looks down at where your side meets his, feeling the warmth and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. He swallows hard, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. "Because," he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "it makes me think that maybe..." Before he can answer your voice cuts him off, “maybe I’m in love with you.” I burst out, it felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulder as the words finally leave my lips. His eyes widen momentarily, surprise and joy mingling in his expression. For a heartbeat, he's stunned into silence, but then a slow, warm smile spreads across his face. He turns to face you fully, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe I'm right there with you."

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”

[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

Part 2 of the series- You go on your date; Alastor gives you some unusual cooking lessons and the ovens aren't the only things getting hot.

Part 1

TW: Self-consciousness, mild sexual situations, sensory deprivation, flashbacks, hurt/comfort, swearing

You stared down at the dress on your bed. It had been neatly laid out when you returned to your room the night before with a message scrawled in the most elegant handwriting you had ever seen:

Don't be late Darling - A

The dress was gorgeous- all black with a halter top, knee-length pleated skirt, and a thin belt around the middle. The fabric felt sturdy, no doubt it was expensive. He even gifted you a pair of black stilettos to pair with it.

You bit your lip nervously, of course you were nervous about going on a date with Alastor, but what caused your heart rate to spike at the moment was the thought of wearing this dress. It was definitely considered modest-to Alastor's taste- but the halter top would show the entirety of your arms...there was no way to hide the scars that littered your skin. Could you wear a jacket? Would that be considered rude?

You sighed, if you didn't get changed soon then you would be late...and you did not want to find out what Alastor would do if you kept him waiting after he explicitly told you to be on time. You paired the dress with simple silver hoop earrings and a bracelet and dabbed on dark merlot-red lipstick. Overall you looked good...if you could ignore your arms. You swiftly left the bathroom, not wanting to look in the mirror more than necessary. Snatching a small clutch you made your way to the lobby.

You caught sight of Alastor as you descended the stairs- he had traded his normal red pinstriped suit for a black one with coattails. He wore a bright red bow tie and he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail that exposed his undercut. You were so preoccupied with ogling at him that you missed a step and had to catch yourself on the railing to save yourself from an embarrassing fall the rest of the way down the staircase.

When you safely reach the ground level Alastor turns with a cheerful grin and confidently strides up to you, "You look absolutely ravishing Darling!" His hand reached for yours and gently brought it to his lips. "Give us a twirl!", he raised your hand above your head and you slowly rotated on the toe of one heel for him, a happy smile curling across your own face at his antics. "Tu es magnifique."

You blush at the barrage of compliments and nervously cough,"Shall we go then?", you start towards the door only for for the demon deer to wrap an arm around your waist.

"Nuh-uh-uh! Not that way My Dear! I would not subject you to walking in those shoes all the way across the Pride Ring. No, we shall be traveling in style!", he adjusted his bow tie and puffed out his chest. He pulled you flush against him and leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Hold on tight Darling."

You gasp as your vision suddenly went black and your feet were no longer on solid ground. Your grip on Alastor's coat was iron-clad as you reacted to the sudden weightlessness of your body. Then, just as soon as it began it was over, but instead of being in the hotel lobby you found yourself on the sidewalk outside a beautiful white-brick building. You were so busy taking in your new surroundings you didn't notice that you never let go of Alastor until he chuckled at you, "Oh! Sorry!", you jumped away from him and hid your blush by smoothing your dress down.

Alastor approached the little mouse demon hostess, she looked up at the much taller demon with a friendly smile, "Good evening Mr. Alastor sir! We have your table ready!" She hopped off her stool, barely coming up to The Radio Demon's knees, to lead the way to your dinner table.

The inside of the restaurant was just as stunning as the outside. It was all polished birch wood with black and gold accents and was dimly lit except for a small stage with a live pianist playing a relaxing tune. The chairs were dark with gold cushions, the tables adorned with white tablecloths, gold napkins, and black roses served as the centerpieces.

The hostess deftly placed the menus on the table and filled the water glasses, "Your server will be right with you!" Alastor held your chair out and motioned for you to take a seat before pushing it in.

"Oh Al, this place is breathtaking!", you take one last awed look around before unfolding your menu.

"Hmm yes, this place is certainly a bit of a hidden gem. There are certain types that won't give it a fair chance due to the staff actually."

"What do you mean?", you give him a perplexed look.

Just then, another cheerful mouse demoness approached your table, but she was significantly taller than the hostess. No, not a mouse...a rat. "Ah Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!", she chirped. "And who is it you've brought with you? She sounds lovely!", the rat turned to you then, her eyes were completely white and foggy as if she had milk on her lenses. It took you a second to understand- she was completely blind.

"Tilly, my dear friend! This is Y/N, she is a chef as well and I thought I'd bring her here tonight to experience all La Rodere has to offer", Alastor smiled kindly between you and Tilly despite her not being able to see it. "I'll just have my usual Tilly, if you don't mind. Although, perhaps a bottle of champagne instead of whiskey tonight."

"Of course! And what can I get you Sweetheart?", she faced you expectantly.

You quickly glance at the menu again,"Could I get the Poulet a la Moutard Francaise please?"

"Yes ma'am! It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I do hope you enjoy yourself this evening!", with that Tilly scampered off to fetch the champagne and turn in your order.

"You have impeccable taste My Dear", Alastor eyed you slyly.

"I take it that is your usual order?", you smiled over your glass of water at him.

"Correct! Now come along, or we will miss the show!", he grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the swinging doors that hid the kitchen from the dining area.

"Alastor! I don't think they would want us back there!", you admonished the chaotic demon.

"Nonsense! I join the kitchen all the time Darling! HAHAHA", he laughed at your bewildered face. "I assure you, you are in for quite a treat."

Upon entering the kitchen you were met with a small kitchen that was neatly kept. The smells of all the French cuisine hit your nose warmly causing you to take a deep breath in. Cozy- that was how you would describe this kitchen. There were three other rat demons similar to Tilly working at the space's center. Two more with the milky eyes and one with jet black eyes.

"Y/N, meet Tilly's siblings- Lilly, Billie, and Stew. They will be preparing our meals tonight!", Alastor introduced you, though none of the three chefs reacted to your presence at all. There was something that just seemed...off, but you couldn't decide what it was.

Just then, Tilly came in and joined her siblings at the center of the kitchen. A copy of the restaurants menu was laid out on the counter, she skimmed over the menu with with her fingers until she found the dish that you and Alastor chose. The rat with the beady, black eyes glanced at the item Tilly pointed to and began preparing the chicken and the mustard sauce. Once you began to get your first whiffs of the food, the third rat started blending various spices together, not using any measuring tools at all and continuously taking large sniffs at the mixture.

"What's happening Al?"

"You may be familiar with the three blind mice, but what about the four rats with only one sense each?", Alastor chuckled at you.

"One sense? What do you mean?", you ask as the rodent with the spices let out a hum of approval and mixed the blend into the dish. The beady-eyed rat then placed it in the oven to finish cooking.

"Tilly is the only one that can hear, hence the reason she takes the orders. Her sister Lilly is the only one that can see, so she begins the dish preparations and does the plating. Billie, being both blind and deaf, has a peculiar sense of smell. She does all the spice blends and knows when the dish is ready to plate and serve", Alastor explained as you watched on completely mesmerized. Just like he said, Billie clasped Lilly on the arm, which Lilly responded to by immediately pulling the food out not even bothering to temp it.

"So what does Stew do?", you nod to the last rat in the group.

"Oh, Stew has the most important job of all! Not a dish goes out that he does not taste test first!"

Lilly placed a spoon in the mustard sauce and lifted it to Stew's lips; he paused momentarily as the sauce caressed his taste buds. He reached out and felt around various spices with different tops in front of him until he found the salt which he sprinkled over the top of the dish before nodding his approval. Lilly divided the food between two plates and handed them to Tilly.

"Your dinner is ready!", she cheerfully called to the two of you. Alastor placed your arm through his and led you back to your table where your champagne was already waiting. He once again pulled your chair out for you and tucked you under the table before taking his seat.

The food was positively divine, possibly the best you had ever eaten. You chewed slowly, savoring each bite; thinking of how each individual leaned into their strengths to pull the meal together flawlessly.

"Penny for your thoughts my Dear?", Alastor broke you from your reverie.

You smirked back at him, "Are my thoughts worth so little?" Your smile softens as he laughs, but then you frown. "I feel sorry for them...I can't imagine only having one sense. Not only in everyday life but in the kitchen especially; part of what makes being a chef so fun is getting to use all the senses to create a masterpiece."

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose, but they all get to enjoy it in their own way. The unique artistry of their preparations is a large part of why I am so fond of this place."

You reached a hand out to his slowly, allowing him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn't as your fingers tentatively caressed the back of his hand, "Thank you for bringing me here, I feel honored that you have entrusted me with one of your secret indulgences."

His other hand came up to run his claws over your hand, you flinch back slightly when they run over the exposed, red skin of your arm. It did not hurt, but you were afraid it would repulse him. You bring your hand back to yourself and shift uncomfortably for a second, skin tingling slightly. You don't notice the crimson eyes studying your reaction.

"There's a reason I brought you here specifically, your training begins tomorrow."

Your head snaps back up to him,"What training?"

You stand there in the kitchen nervously, wondering what Alastor was going to have you make. The prospect of cooking for The Radio Demon thrilled you, there was so much that you could learn from someone with his experience. But the anxiety gnawed at you, he made it clear he was not a fan of your cooking, what were you supposed to make to impress him?

"Ah good evening My Dear!", speak of the demon himself..."What are we making today?"

Oh? He was planning on cooking WITH you?! This was an unexpected but exciting turn of events; there were so many advanced dishes he could help you with!

"OOO maybe a turducken?! I have always wanted to try making one! We could start with- OW!!", Alastor had flicked you right between the eyes rather hard, your hand flying up to rub the sore spot on your forehead.

"No, we are not teaming up to make some ridiculous frankendish monstrosity. We are here so that you can learn how to speak through your dishes. Put yourself on a plate! Now, what is something you enjoy cooking? What's a dish that you enjoy eating? Not for how pretty it is or how well you have mastered it, but something that you feel genuine emotion for? Preferably something simple."

You frowned at him, a dish you were emotional about? You had to think, most dishes that evoked any emotion in you conjured negative feelings due to failing at them. You highly doubted that's what he had in mind. After a moment, an idea finally popped into your head, "What about tuna melts? I used to make them all the time when I was in culinary school, they were fast and easy to make between classes."

"Excellent! Tell me, what are the ingredients?"

As you listed your ingredients off they suddenly appeared on the table one-by-one. After all ingredients were gathered you set out to start your prep when Alastor grabbed your arm, "Not so fast Dear, there is one more thing I did not tell you." With a snap of his fingers, your vision was suddenly non-existent. You gabbed onto the counter to ground yourself as your world suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Alastor! What the fuck are you doing?! I can't cook if I can't see!"

"Oh, but you can Darling! You just witnessed two blind rats cook yesterday!"

"Lilly did the cooking and she had sight!"

"Well, then it is a good thing I am here! I shall be your eyes today", he leaned in close, his chest just centimeters from your back. An expected shiver traveled up your spine as if his static was prickling directly at your skin. "You worry too much about aesthetic perfection, hone in on your other senses for a bit. Learn to let go."

You bit your lip in contemplation, "You won't let me hurt myself right?"

You felt more than heard his low chuckle vibrate across your shoulders, giving you another involuntary shiver. His fingers trailed down your sleeve-covered arms to where your hands still gripped the counter, "I promise no blood will be spilled this day."

Your breath hitched slightly as he dislodged your fingers from the counter, as your posture straightened you back became flush with his chest. Was he always this much taller than you? It felt like he was towering over you, his breath caressing your scalp and blowing your hair slightly. He leaned impossibly closer to you, "Now, walk me through how to make this dish."

His hands guided yours through cutting your french loaves. You focused intently on your sense of smell, trying to gauge when just the right amount of garlic was added to your butter when it became fragrant. It was hard to concentrate on the food though, with Alastor's cologne filling your nostrils with every inhale. You felt the demon flinch back slightly when you opened the cans of tuna.

"You sustained yourself by consuming cat food?", he asked incredulously.

"Hey! It's actually really good! Besides, you don't get to complain when you are a broke college student. These cans were less than a dollar each!", you laugh, reminiscing about your college days scraping together pennies just to fill your fridge.

"Hmm, perhaps you should have contemplated eating your teachers instead. The ones you didn't care for anyways."

He helped you mix and spread the tuna across the bread loaves, topping them with cheddar slices before popping them in the oven. Even when you weren't using your hands his touch lingered, as if he didn't want to let you go.

You pulled the melts out of the oven when you heard the cheese bubbling, the bread gave a satisfying crunch when you cut the sandwiches in half. Your first bite transported you back to culinary school, you could picture yourself scarfing your sandwich down before your next class began. A mixture of anxiety, determination, and exhaustion consumed you, an emotional cocktail that you were intimately familiar with during that time in your life.

"Hm! I suppose the cat food is edible", Alastor snarked from behind you as he ate his own sandwich. "It reminds me of a seafood dish we ate mixed with peas during The Great Depression, however, this is more elevated. I can imagine you struggling to get by financially and turning to this dish to satiate your hunger. I can finally taste you in this meal...good job Y/N."

You smiled at the long-awaited compliment, with another snap of his fingers your sight was restored. Sadly, that meant that Alastor stepped away from you and you lamented the loss of contact.

"Now, just two more senses to vanquish! Make sure to think of two more meals that hold a special place in your heart. Good work today my dear!", a surprised yelp ripped out your throat as his cane gently smacked your ass on his way to the door. Did he seriously just-?! But before you could confront him about it he was gone, leaving nothing but a manic chuckle behind.

The next evening you waited for the deer demon impatiently, your thumb tapping against the the opposite bicep. What was that yesterday? The memory of how close Alastor was to you played over and over in your mind. How the heat of his chest seeped into the flesh of your back, how his claws tingled as they traced down your arms. But mostly you thought of how his hands felt holding yours; how the muscles and tendons flexed as he moved you around...how the strength of them left little doubt about what others things he could make you do with so little resistance...

"My, my- someone's a bit jittery today!"

Alastor's voice made you jump, your mind scrambling to abandon the train of thought you were on.

"A-Alastor! Hi! Er-yes, just excited for our next lesson is all!", you laugh nervously. "Today I was thinking of making salmon and risotto bowls. It was what I cooked to win that scholarship to culinary school."

"Excellent choice My Dear! I must say I quite like your affinity for seafood. Now, lets begin", he snapped and your world, once again, fell dark.

"Uh Alastor? Weren't you supposed to take a different sense away? I worked blindly yesterday already!"

"Hmm yes you did, but you will find that I did take another sense away. As for your sight well...", he leaned in close, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear "...perhaps I just like you this way."

You exhale shakily, the air around you feeling thick, the tension weighing on your shoulders. You took a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate; as if sensing your distress, Alastor straightened up to put some distance between you but maintained the looming presence behind you as he took your hands and helped you through making your dish. You leaned in to smell the fish to check the seasoning when you realized you couldn't smell a thing. You were completely dependent on your hearing alone to cook. Your mind raced as you struggled to figure out a plan of action to continue.

Alastor leaned into you once again, whispering into your ear "Surrender completely, my dear listener, let the food sing you a melody. And trust me as your host of this experience, I promise I won't steer you wrong." He gently carded a claw through your hair, pulling a stand back behind your ear and leaving goosebumps along the flesh of your scalp and causing the little hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

You lean back against him, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest ground you as you match your breathing to his. As you concentrate on inhaling, the sounds of the kitchen begin to register. You could hear the risotto gently bubbling in the pan, the popping getting closer together as the liquid reduced- telling you it was time to add a bit more stock.

"Help me add more stock to the rice and test the heat of the pan", your voice was barely above a whisper. The demon behind you responded immediately, hands gently holding your wrists leading you through the motions. The water evaporated from the pan immediately, the sharp sizzle telling you it was time to add the oil and fish.

True to his word, Alastor kept hold of you through the whole process, as soon as you told him what you needed to do based on what you heard he immediately complied. You moved through the kitchen together locked in a strange dance; the food cooking, your small whispers, and his radio static the only sounds in the small space.

You choked on your first bite, your mind immediately going back to 18-year-old you. You remembered exactly how you felt when you were announced the winner of that scholarship, the day your entire life turned around...right before it all went up in flames. You weren't even aware of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you suddenly regained vision and Alastor was right in front of you. His hands tenderly held your face as he gently used his thumbs to wipe away your tears. He stared down at you intently but with a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen before. The next thing you knew you had your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as you sobbed into his coat. Years of trauma and repressed emotions finally letting loose, you sobbed until you had nothing else left in you. All the while Alastor just held you, never saying a word and never casting any judgement.

When your tears dried and your sobs completely quieted, The Radio Demon pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted your head back to look at him, "Our final lesson is tomorrow. Think of one more meal Mon Cher."

Your hands kept running through your hair, you almost felt sick with anxiety about today's lesson. When was the last time you cried? Probably when Grandma died, and even then you hid away in the bathroom, cleaning your face at the vanity before exiting so you could be the strong, older sister that your siblings needed. And then you just fell to pieces in front of Alastor, full-on ugly cried into The Radio Demon's coat! Your face flushed in embarrassment, you'd have to apologize to him.

Time kept ticking...he always arrived right on time, but today he was officially late. Great, your emotional outburst scared him off. Your hands fisted in your hair as you clenched your teeth to swallow the frustrated growl that threatened to rip out of your throat.

Just as you were about to run out of the kitchen (again) the Overlord finally walked through the door, he was practically running at the pace he moved at. He looked a bit disheveled himself, like he was in a hurry. He's probably in a hurry to get this over with and get away from you. You shook your head, you didn't want to entertain that thought. You opened your mouth to apologize for your breakdown but he beat you to it "What is the meal today?"

"Ummm...lamb chops with garlic smashed potatoes. It was Grandma's favorite, she normally paired it with Merlot. Look Al, I'm really sorry-", you were suddenly cut off when Alastor gripped your biceps, his hold was firm but not painful. His eyes held the same intensity they did the other day.

"Do you trust me?", his eyes bored into yours, reading every micro-expression your face made as you thought of the answer.

"With my life", you murmured softly, feeling the tears spring into your eyes again. His hand came up to cup your face once more.

"Good, please remember that I will never put you in harms way. Just...trust me", you heard his fingers snap and your world entered the now-familiar darkness. It was different this time though, you stood frozen for a few seconds before you realized what was off. Your hearing also left with your vision, this is how it felt to be Billie and Stew- deaf and blind.

Alastor? Your own voice did not register in your ears; there was no way to know if you had said his name out loud at all. The only thing your ears picked up was the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins. You heard your heart rate spike as panic started to creep into your mind. Alastor!

You felt the comforting pressure of hands on your shoulders, you were so used to these hands being on you now that you were sure you'd recognize his touch in a line-up at this point. He gently pushed you down to take a seat which confused you- weren't you supposed to be cooking?

Then you felt something touch your lips, you flinched back, causing liquid to spill down your chin from the whatever it was. Long, clawed fingers gripped your jaw to force you to stay still as the liquid met your lips once more. Red wine...Merlot, just like Grandma taught you to pair with red meat. Realization finally dawned on you, your sensory assignment today was taste...and you weren't cooking but being FED.

A claw gently dipped your bottom lip, a thumb brushing over your tongue to coat it in the spice mix for the lamb. You stopped breathing completely, your mind short-circuiting at the thought of Alastor sticking his thumb into your mouth. In an act of bravery you slowly slid your tongue over the digit letting out a hum of approval at the spices that coated your palate.

A glass was slowly transferred into your hand, the Merlot serving to keep your mind occupied as he cooked. You took the time to pick each component of the wine apart- cherry, chocolate, and plum notes. A hint of blackberry and tobacco in the aroma.

Even though you were temporarily blind and deaf, you sensed when he returned to you; it was as if his static aura seeped into your skin, alerting your body to his presence even when there was no way of noticing his approach. A hand cupped your jaw and pushed on your cheeks, gently prying your mouth open. The lamb was warm, definitely medium rare based on the texture, the musky taste of the lamb paired perfectly with the garlic, salt, and pepper seasonings it was coated in. The potatoes were crispy with a warm butter flavor, sour cream and cheese used to top them. The meal felt like home- familiar and warm; memories of cooking with Grandma flashed in your head. You felt the smile that split your face, your chest vibrated with laughter that you couldn't hear.

A hand gripped yours and pulled gently, you carefully stood up and let him lead you a short distance before pulling you down again...this time onto his lap. Your heart skipped a beat, you were sitting on The Radio Demon's lap...how? why?...what was happening?

You felt your eyes dance around frantically, trying to find him in the dark, asking for him to restore your sight so you could gauge his reactions and body language to try to make some sense of what he was thinking. Then you felt them, a barely-there brush of lips against yours but definitely lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. As quickly as they appeared they were gone; your hands traveled up along his jacket and shirt buttons before coming to a rest on his collarbones.

Suddenly, his fingers tangled into your hair and pulled your head back so that he could meet your lips more head-on. Alastor sealed this kiss with more force, holding your head so that you couldn't put any space between you two. You melted into him, parting your lips to give him access when you were caught by surprise; instead of his tongue entering your mouth a warm, full-bodied liquid tasting of cherry and chocolate poured from his mouth into yours- the Merlot. He had taken a sip of the wine and was pouring it directly into you. Your throat vibrated in a moan, his tongue quickly sweeping into your mouth once you swallowed the wine he fed you. Never had a wine tasted so good as when it came from Alastor's lips.

This dance continued a few more times, each kiss becoming more frantic and desperate with teeth gnashing together and tongues exploring every crevice of the other's mouth. You moved so you were straddling his hips, hands holding onto his lapels so he couldn't disappear on you.

The sensation of weightlessness whirled around you- his shadow magic you quickly realized. When you were grounded again your sight and hearing were restored but you didn't recognize your surroundings. You found yourself in a room of different red tones, with a large fireplace and armchairs in front of it and a desk off to the side. Beyond the typical room furnishings was a forest, the whole scene looked peculiar and distorted. How fitting for his room to resemble himself so much. You turned back to the demon whose room your inexplicably found yourself in...and he was looking back at you like you were the first meal he's seen in weeks.

Part 3 coming soon...there will be smut.

@voxslays

@ladyadrasteia666

@angeldustharmony

@milkissesx

[marlynnofmany]

Predator Games

Our spaceship is generally pretty clean, with everything put where it belongs, so I carried the tall armload of supplies without worrying about where I put my feet. But just as I reached the open door of the main storage hold, something under my shoe squeaked.

I jumped back, managing not to drop anything as I whipped the stack sideways to get a look at whatever it was. My ears and foot had already decided that it was a dog toy, and my eyes agreed. Small, fuzzy and red, vaguely squirrel-shaped. Crinkly. With a squeaker inside.

I nudged it to the side of the passageway, wondering. We didn’t have a dog onboard. We did have a cat — my cat, technically — but I’d never bought her this. Did it get sent to us accidentally, stuck to the side of a box or something? Or did one of my alien crewmates buy it without telling me?

At any rate, my arms were too full to risk bending over now. I’d give the thing a closer inspection after I put away the spare bandages and soap, or whatever else was in here. I headed into the storage hold, expecting to find someone else unpacking the other boxes from the supply run.

Instead I found the pile of boxes unattended except for Telly the cat, who was mid butt-wiggle and ready to pounce. Since the door was already open, I didn’t make any noise loud enough to disturb her — she just flicked an ear in my direction and stayed focused on her quarry: something black that was sticking out from behind the largest crate.

In the time it took me to recognize that as the foot of one of my more insectlike crewmates, Telly sprang at it.

I made a garbled warning: That’s not a toy, that’s a foot, TRRILI’S foot; do not startle her; she’ll eat you!

But the foot zipped out of sight before Telly landed, leaving her to peer around the crate to see where it had gone. Before I could put down my armload and scoop her up, something unfolded from the shadows between two crates: a shiny black pincher arm that reached out stealthily to tap her on the hindquarters.

Telly jumped in feline surprise, then bolted at the hissing laughter that filled the air. She zipped out the door; I heard someone nearly trip over her in the hall. Still clutching my armload of supplies, I watched as my tallest and scariest crewmate got to her feet from what must have been an awkward position behind the boxes, still laughing.

I asked, “Were you playing with her?”

Trrili angled her antenna in disapproval, regarding me with large faceted eyes. “Predator games,” she informed me. “As is only proper.”

I set the boxes down on the floor. “Right. Of course. So did you buy her the dog toy?” I grabbed it from outside.

“That is a model fursqueak,” Trrili corrected me. “For hatchling warrior training.”

“I see,” I said, squeaking it experimentally. It still looked like a dog toy. Under Trrili’s glare, I considered my words carefully. “You know, if you roll something small across the floor, she’ll probably chase it.”

“Excellent,” Trrili said with dignity. “That will be the next game.”

I was going to ask something else, then I noticed a trio of parallel scrapes on Trrili’s left pincher arm, faint against the black exoskeleton. “Did she scratch you??”

Trrili lifted the arm with what looked like pride. “It was a magnificent jump. She is a mighty warrior.”

I had to agree. “Yes she is. You should see her chase a laser pointer.”

Trrili looked extremely interested. “Do tell.”

I described the time-honored cat enrichment device, made sure Trrili’s tiny wrist fingers were up to manipulating the human tool, then trotted off to get the one I had in my quarters. I made a mental note to buy another one before we left the station; there had been a couple shops likely to carry them. And Trrili would probably want to keep this one.

Maybe they even sell catnip, I thought. Though that’s a bit too lackadaisical for predator games. Wonder if I can find a remote-control mouse … but that would give Paint a heart attack if she ran into it. Crinkly toys, though; those could be the way to go.

This was only a minor detour from loading the supplies. Everyone knew it was important to keep the various predators entertained. I was looking forward to watching Telly chase things too.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[pennyserenade]

devil in his heart | jackson rippner x reader

summary | after finding out your long-time boyfriend's real occupation, you have to grapple with who he really is. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, dark, dubcon (bordering on noncon), smut, explicit smut, fingering, degradation, violence word count | 1.9k+ a/n | i honest to god don't know what possessed me, but we are all grown ups here. read with caution! enjoy! love ya! also: i wrote this to devil in his heart by the donays and he's got the power by the exciters, if you're interested in a soundtrack. not beta'd

Truth be told, this is the best game of cat and mouse he's had in years, and he doesn't like that it's ending so soon.

As he gets on your level, crouching near your slumped form, Jackson almost feels a little sorry that you couldn't win. It's not that you weren't witty enough--you were. It's just that, well, he's better. This reminds him of when he was ten and had wanted to go to space only to figure out when he was twelve that he was too scared of the vastness of the galaxy. Some things are just out of reach, too good to be true. He mourns it all the same.

His fingers tenderly push back sweat soaked strands of hair from your face. You look up at him, blurry-eyed, but still so resolute--lips thinned, smoldering with anger. God. He swipes a finger across your lip just to know what it feels like, and likes it better for the fact that you jerk away so aggressively that you knock your head back into the wall.

His tongue clicks. "You should've known, after following me all those weeks, that I'm good at this."

Jackson wraps his fingers tightly around your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You give in, mostly because you have so little energy to protest. His eyes look ominously glacial, lit up only by the moonlight cascading in from the window.

You look down at his lips; the flesh there is still swollen, broken from the harsh swing of your elbow earlier in the night. His tongue spears out to feel at the area. "You're a sloppy assassin, baby. My blood's all over this goddamn place. All over you--" he gestures down to your simple white tee shirt, which has been made dirty with dirt, sweat, blood. You don't care. You feel dizzy and half-scared to pass out, to even think of it, because you've never seen him look quite like this.

You think back to that first time you met him, how he had seemed so polite. He was traveling by train to visit his folks back home for Christmas (he said things like 'folks' in a crisp Midwestern accent, for God's sake). He had said he worked in life insurance policy, which made you laugh and caused him to say, "I know, I know--ironic, Jack Rippner dealing out life insurance." You had thought it was ironic. It is: ironically cruel.

He buys his ties from GAP, his dress shirts from Macy's, likes EggNog and celebrates the fourth of July with as much enthusiasm as any plain, good-hearted American man can.

He’s met your mother; he loves her breadsticks.

You spit on him. It takes the very last of your strength, but it's worth it to see the way his eyes ignite. His hand wipes it off, thumb running through the saliva on his fingers as his lips purse. "You know," he begins, voice eerily calm, "I always thought we'd make good parents. God knows we've come close to it enough times. You just can't help but beg for my cum in you, the slut you are." He chuckles darkly. "I always imagined that you'd be the good cop and I'd be the bad one."

Jackson pushes your head back into the wall, propping you there, almost choking you, but not quite. You let out a deep, wavering breath. He smirks. "But I see that's not the case now, is it? You don't seem to like very much when I play with my food before I eat it, do you?" His fingers press against your lips again, saliva coated. You let him. "Here I thought, all along, 'my baby's a goddamn pacifist. She didn't even like fishing!' It kept me up at night, the idea of you finding out what I did. But look at you!" His thumb tenderly strokes your neck, moving around a mysterious fluid--could be your blood, his blood, spit, water, anything. "I think if I reached between your legs now, you'd be soaked."

You choke out a sound of protest, wiggling beneath his gasp. He tuts, his fingers digging more tightly into your throat. For a brief moment, you can’t breathe. You find enough strength to claw at his hand, to widen your eyes and plead.

“C’mon, you’ll like this. You always do.” He loosens his grip on your neck.

As you gasp for air, Jackson knocks your legs apart. It doesn’t take much effort to get your cunt—you’d foolishly made the mistake of wearing a dress today—and he hums in delight when his fingers reach past your cotton underwear, confirming what he suspected to be true. His lips form into a mocking pout as your eyes begin to well with tears. It's not fear—you’re beyond that. It’s anger. The betrayal of this curdles inside you, eating you alive. Your eyes fill with ire.

“Don’t be that way,” he shakes his head, softening a degree. He holds your chin between his fingers again, the other hand rubbing wide circles over your clit. “I’m not going to kill you. How could I? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, truth be told, but it’s not that.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily, causing him to growl. “That’s the spirit, kitten. When you hit me earlier, I thought—after, of course, 'God she’s a bitch!’—that you might be a good asset. I know you’ve got a lot of morals holding you back right now, so I figure I’ll let you do the easy work at first. Let you think you’re doing some good in the world.” He presses down on your clit, his touch more intent, more focused. You squirm, hating the way he knows that you like it like this.

His fingers slip down into your cunt, wetting them. “Fuck, you’re soaking. If this is how you get when we do this, you might just reform me. I’m not opposed. We—“ he reattaches his fingers to your cunt. You whine, arching into his touch.“—could do good work. I freelance, if you couldn’t tell already. Though I’m sure you can. You’re a thorough investigator when you want to be. That’ll be helpful, too.”

Jackson picks up his pace, swallowing as he stares down at your lap. He can’t see anything, his hand hidden beneath the fabric of the dress and your underwear, but it seems to thrill him all the same. You too, admittedly.

“I—I couldn’t,” you retort, biting at your lip. “You—you kill!”

“Don’t be such a prude,” he deadpans. “It’s political assassinations and occasionally, though very rarely, an innocent bystander. And I do my best to make sure those cases are few and far between. I do.” He presses down more intently, watching with delight as you squirm, trying not to cum. “Oh, go on. It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna know except me, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m good with secrets. You know that now.”

He’s near exultant, talking to you about this. The pitch of his voice is higher, and he’s looking at you like he’s won a prize of the highest degree. You’d spit on him again if he wasn’t making you feel so goddamn good.

“I won’t do it,” you shake your head firmly. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip a finger in your cunt, to press in and show you how much he has always—will always—know you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bite,” he soothes, entering another. It’s a squeeze, but a welcome one, especially when he begins to thrust them against the spongy surface of your walls. Your toes curl, and you hate him, hate him violently. “If you want me to be rough, you really only have to ask, but since you like this game so much we’ll play it.”

As he fingers you, he begins to palm your clit. The sensation is overwhelming. Tears cascade down your face and he leans forward, licking them from your lips. The warmth of the orgasm rises in you alarmingly quick, his fingers deftly touching the inside of you, his palm lining with your clit each time you rut involuntarily. Your body knows him. It trusts him. He knows it.

The orgasm licks through you like a goddamn flame, igniting everything and leaving it all worse for it. When you cry out, Jackson smirks, so fucking pleased. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on, rubbing down harder, thrusting in quicker, until you’re wiggling beneath him.

“Please!” you say, trying to move his hand away.

He’s resolute. “No can do, honey. You’ve been a naughty girl, indulgent in the worst way. Gluttony is a sin, and I've been good–I’ve never punished you for it before–but you’ve hurt my feelings now.”

He slides in a third finger, his crystal eyes dark in the shadows. You feel impossibly full, and on the brink of another orgasm. You whine out. He knocks your head back into the wall with force. It doesn’t take your breath away, but it stuns you to silence. “That’ll be enough of that. This is for me now, got it? Getting you all wet so my cock will fit in that tight cunt of yours. Want you to hear it, your pussy taking me.”

As if to prove a point, he thrusts in again, and you do hear it—the way your body allows him in. An obscene squelch. You bite your lip, feel more tears fall down your cheeks.

“Jackson—“ you plead. You’re tired, achy, terribly confused. He works you open so well. You can smell the sour sweet smell of his body odor. You love it. You cannot help it. Your body trusted this man for so long. Still does.

You fool, you tell yourself, before your body gives way to his will again—you collapse into him, screaming out a silent whimper as the orgasm makes you convulse.

“That’s it,” he encourages, not stopping. “Be good for me. If you’re good, we’ll make this enterprise into a family business. If you’re bad—well, we’ll just have to make this our life, won’t we? You all weak, me with all the power. I don’t think you’ll like it, but you understand, it’s how it must be done if you don’t obey.”

He sighs, as if it’s putting him out too.

You know he’s serious. What’s worse is you know he’s right: that you won’t like it, that he’ll get his way eventually.

When you give in, he knows immediately, lips quirking up into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your temple. “I always knew you had it in you a little. You were always such a whore for me. I’m happy it worked out so well for us both. Now–” He pushes your legs further apart, moving in with his own hips. “Let’s play your most favorite game. It’s longer, requires more patience, but I like it just as much as you do.”

The jingle of his belt buckle makes a shot of fear, mixed with arousal, shoot up your spine. You think: God, no.

He laughs darkly. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve been making sure you’ve been taking your birth control. I’m not really ready for that, either. It’s just the idea that thrills you, isn’t it anyway? And that smallest, tiniest chance that it could happen.” He smirks, loosening his belt. His fingers exit you, leaving you empty, feeling scandalized and ruined. Jackson rubs them on the cloth of your dress, uncaring.

“I hate you,” you spit out, venom lacing your words.

He looks thoroughly amused as he releases his weeping cock from his underwear. “No you don’t. You’re just ashamed of yourself. But fear not–” he wipes a tear off your face, “--when we’re done here, you’ll be glad for this. Just remember, baby, that I’m on your side.”

[rurann]

Ruthless x Empathetic (Geshu Lin x Reader)

Chapters:

Previous: Chapter One

Next: Chapter Three

Tag list

Summary:

All you wanted was to help the wounded, to be a healer in a chaotic world. But after a fateful encounter with the cold and feared General Geshu Lin, your life takes a dark turn as he becomes dangerously obsessed with you.

[I made this because of the lack of Geshu Lin fanfics.]

Tags: Explicit

Love Triangles, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, General x Medic, Yandere Geshu Lin

[Tags will be updated as the story goes but I intend to have this story rated Explicit.]

Chapter Two

Under His Care

The next day began with an uneasy tension gripping your chest as you cautiously approached the base’s cafeteria. The lingering nerves from your interaction with General Geshu Lin the previous evening gnawed at you. You couldn’t get a good night's sleep as you tried to make sense of why it still left you feeling so unsettled. After all, the general hadn’t scolded you or even raised his voice. So why did the mere thought of crossing paths with him again fill you with apprehension?

Well, maybe not apprehension. Maybe you were just too shy to see him after the way you were being persistent with him.

You shook your head, trying to brush off the anxiety as you approached the cafeteria. Peeking around the corner, you scanned the room like a mouse surveying for danger. A few soldiers sat at scattered tables, laughing and eating breakfast as if there wasn’t a war looming over their heads in just a few hours. Everything seemed calm.

But you weren’t looking for just anyone. You searched for the tall, imposing figure with the long white hair. Your heart raced as your eyes flitted over each face, but the cafeteria appeared tranquil. If Geshu Lin had been there, you would have known. The air would be thick with tension, and the soldiers would sit in silence, careful not to draw his attention.

You sighed in relief, stepping out from behind the corner, ready to walk in—

“This is amusing.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around so fast you almost lost your balance. Your wide eyes landed on a familiar face, and your heart skipped a beat.

Jiyan’s tall form loomed before you, his expression dripping with amusement. He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Didn’t know you were such a jumpy one.”

You let out an exhale of relief. As you tried to compose yourself, you said, “Jiyan, you scared me.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned casually against the wall. “Looks like you were scouting the cafeteria like you were preparing for battle. Expecting someone?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught sneaking around like a child. “No, I was just… making sure if there is a good seat.”

The tip of Jiyan’s lips curved in a subtle smile. He pushed himself off of the wall and stepped towards the cafeteria as he told you, “In that case, why don’t we find a table? I hope there is an empty one.”

You finally shook off your nervousness and followed Jiyan into the cafeteria, the breeze of his presence calming your jittery thoughts.

As you both found an empty table near the window, you sat down and tried to relax. After all, you had been so tense recently, caught up in the intensity of your heavy duties. Maybe it was time to loosen up a little.

Jiyan sat across from you. He had a natural ease to him, serious but approachable, as if he could carry the weight of the world without letting it crush him. You admired that about him, though you'd never say it out loud. You’re just getting to know him.

“I couldn’t find the right time to get to know you during the training,” Jiyan began, his voice a low rumble. “I was surprised to see your profile. It says you have just turned eighteen and have gotten your Tacet mark when you were much younger. That’s impressive.”

You averted your gaze bashfully. “I didn’t know they’d put that detail into my profile.”

Jiyan began tearing into his breakfast with his chopsticks. “I apologize if it’s an invasion of privacy to you-”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off with a rueful smile. “Such details might be important to the higher-ups.”

“But the details aren’t that specific,” Jiyan pointed out. “It did not state at what age your Resonance manifested.”

You stared at him in contemplation. “Hmm. I think I was ten when I got it.”

As you finally took the first bite of your breakfast, Jiyan blinked his eyes at you in amazement. “Were you scared?”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. As you chewed your meal properly, the teal-haired man before you finally had his first bite as well. He made no indication to rush the conversation, even though time was limited for all of you. Not when the war against Tacet Discords was looming over everyone’s head.

“I was frightened,” you stated, gazing at your breakfast. “I couldn’t control my Glacio at that time. I was scared that I would end up freezing my parents in a panic.”

Jiyan stared at you for a long while, chewing his breakfast soundlessly. His silence provided you ample time to respond. “Thankfully, there was another veteran Resonator nearby, and he taught me how to control it.”

“That’s good to hear,” commented Jiyan. “Was that the moment when you finally decided to use your Resonance as a support?”

You nodded your head, although you knew you had dreamt of it even before you got your Tacet mark. “Yeah. It feels nice to see someone you heal get back on their feet. I hope my support as a rearguard contributes greatly to the battlefield.”

Jiyan spoke, “I’m certain it does. Every ranger you tend to will come back to the war stronger. You and the rest of the support help a lot.”

A genuine smile blossomed on your face like a sunflower to the sun. Jiyan never failed to amaze you with his comforting choice of words. Talking with him was so easy and calming. He was like a cool breeze in a warm season.

“You say that as if you’re not a rearguard yourself, Dr. Jiyan,” you teased with a grin.

Jiyan chuckled. “I am just a normal doctor. Compared to a supporting Resonator like you, I am just a normal man.”

You laughed softly at Jiyan's modest words. “A normal doctor who’s highly respected among the Midnight Rangers. I don’t think ‘just a normal man’ fits you very well.”

Jiyan smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I believe you got the wrong man regarding highly respected. You’re probably referring to General Geshu Lin.”

Something dawned on you the moment the general’s name was mentioned. With your smile slowly dropping, you asked curiously, “I haven’t seen him in the cafeteria yet. Is he always this late to breakfast?”

“He never comes to the cafeteria,” Jiyan apprised. “The cook will prepare breakfast for him at five in the morning, and a ranger will deliver it to the general’s tent.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment. “At five in the morning?”

Jiyan replied, “He usually wakes up early and trains after breakfast at five. Everyone can see him training at a hidden spot just northeast of the base, but no one dared to disturb him.”

Taking in that information, you harrumphed, “Hmm, I see.”

The calmness of the morning was soon replaced by the hum of soldiers preparing for the battle ahead. The cafeteria quickly emptied as the Midnight Rangers moved with purpose, heading toward the central courtyard where everyone was expected to gather. You and Jiyan joined the steady stream of soldiers, and the air grew thick with tension as anticipation for the day’s war against the Tacet Discords loomed overhead.

Once outside, soldiers were lined up in their respective formations. You stood among the rearguards, a smaller group that would stay back to heal and provide support when needed. Despite your efforts to stay calm, your heart thudded in your chest as you looked around. Everyone was so focused. Even the lighthearted conversation you shared with Jiyan earlier now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of war.

The moment was broken when you spotted a shift in the crowd. General Geshu Lin had arrived.

Your eyes were instantly drawn and glued to the imposing figure moving through the ranks. There he was – the general himself, tall and commanding, with his long white hair flowing as he walked. His presence rippled through the assembled soldiers, their backs straightening, heads turning as if drawn by an invisible force. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension, and it was clear that even the most battle-hardened rangers were on edge in his presence.

It was hard to comprehend that this was the same man whom you tended to last night. You were being an annoying little medic to him – he even muttered ‘insolent’ to you – and yet he did not chew you out or yell at you for overstepping. It was then you realized that, yes, he was cold and unapproachable, but you had never once seen him raise his voice to anyone. He merely intimidated everyone around him.

Geshu Lin wasted no time. He headed straight for the veterans and battlefield strategists who had already gathered in a small circle nearby. A hologram of a specific spot in Norfall Barrens was prepared beforehand. It appeared that that’s the site where everything would go down. You, standing close enough with the rearguards, couldn’t help but overhear bits of their discussion.

“—Intel confirms their movements near the northern valley. They’ll likely use the terrain to their advantage,” said one of the strategists, his voice clipped and precise.

“The Discords won’t move in a predictable formation,” another chimed in. “They’ve shown signs of erratic behaviour. We need to prepare for an ambush.”

Geshu Lin’s voice cut through the conversation like a blade, calm but with a quiet authority that demanded attention. “They’ll try to flank us at the first opportunity. We’ll divide the forces into two main fronts. One to hold their attention in the valley, and another to sweep in from the east.”

You swallowed hard, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The Tacet Discords were dangerous, unpredictable creatures born from the chaotic disruptions in frequency energy. They appeared to be creatures with nothing on their mind but kill. You had seen some of them before and noticed how mindless they behaved. Annihilation was the only thing in their head.

As the discussion continued, another veteran spoke up. “What about the rearguard unit, sir? We have advanced further into Norfall Barrens, where the rearguards’ camps were miles away from the site. Our wounded soldiers will have a problem reaching the medics.”

Geshu Lin’s cold eyes flickered with thought before he declared, “Five rearguards will join each vanguard unit. They will stay close enough to provide immediate support but out of sight. This way, they can tend to the wounded before the Discords have time to overwhelm the frontlines.”

You felt a sharp pang of anxiety as you processed his words. This meant some of you would be much closer to the battlefield than anticipated. You exchanged nervous glances with the other rearguards, who had overheard the same decision. This was how it felt like being in a war. You did not know what would happen. One day, you could be at the back, providing support. The next day, you could be at the very front with a greater risk of death. A war had always been unpredictable and merciless. You could not say no. It was your duty, after all.

One of the more seasoned strategists, an older man with a scar running across his cheek, frowned profoundly and said, “General, with all due respect, that area is riddled with uneven terrain. There are countless places for the Tacet Discords to hide. If we send rearguards with the vanguard, they could be ambushed from behind. We’d be putting them at risk.”

Geshu Lin’s eyes were steady, unwavering as he turned to face the strategist. “We’ll use the terrain to our advantage.”

A murmur rippled through the strategists, a mixture of surprise and curiosity at the general’s unshaken confidence. Geshu Lin continued, his voice firm but calm as ever.

“We will claim the terrain before the Discords can. If we take the high ground and secure key points along the ridges and slopes, we deny them the chance to use it for ambushes,” he said as his gaze swept across the group. “The rearguards will hide in the natural alcoves and rock formations. That will give them the advantage of cover, and they’ll be prepared to receive any wounded rangers immediately. At the same time, other troops will ensure there are no blind spots. No place for the Discords to flank.”

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed his plan. It was risky, but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made. By taking control of the terrain quickly, the Midnight Rangers could turn the area’s natural features into their stronghold rather than leaving them as potential hiding spots for the enemy.

The older strategist, after a long pause, nodded his head slowly. “Understood, General. We’ll adjust our formations accordingly.”

Geshu Lin gave a curt nod in return, and without another word, the strategists and veterans dispersed to relay the new orders to the rest of the troops. One of the strategists relayed the plan to Changmin, a senior medic, right away.

In the latter’s hands, he held a list, the paper slightly crumpled from being rolled and unrolled several times. He studied it for a moment, his brows furrowed in concentration. Then, taking a pen from his pocket, he began marking off names with quick, decisive strokes.

After a few minutes of marking the list, he straightened up, his stern expression giving nothing away. He turned to face you all, his voice loud and commanding as it rang out over the crowd. “Five rearguards will be assigned to each vanguard troop, including the main force led by General Geshu Lin himself.”

You held your breath, nerves coiling tighter in your stomach as you waited to hear the names. The silence was almost unbearable as he began reading from the list.

“Yin Lei, Liang Mei, Hua Jin, Bai Yu, Song Lin,” he called out in a firm tone. One by one, each rearguard whose name was called stepped forward with varying expressions as they joined their assigned troops.

Changmin continued down the list. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, and (Y/n).”

Your heart skipped a beat as your name echoed in the air. You weren’t sure whether to feel proud or terrified. All you knew was that you were now among those selected to stand closer to the frontlines. Your legs felt heavier than usual as you stepped forward, joining the others who had been named.

There was a slight murmur in the crowd as those not selected exchanged glances of relief or disappointment. You couldn’t help but glance over at Jiyan, whose name had not been called. He stood silently, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment, offering a silent nod of encouragement. The calm steadiness in his eyes was reassuring, even as you felt the weight of your new assignment settle on your shoulders.

Changmin continued, “The other rearguards will stay with the secondary line or wait in your tents. Dr. Jiyan will be in charge of all of you. Listen to any incoming orders. You might be asked to provide backup for the primary troops. Stay alert and be ready to move if necessary.”

Jiyan nodded his head, prepared to take on the new duty. With that done, Changmin turned to the selected rearguards and said, “Now, to those who are selected, I have chosen which troop you will be assigned to.”

Changmin cleared his throat as he began assigning the selected rearguards to their respective vanguard troops. His eyes scanned the list once more before he started.

“Yin Lei, Liang Mei, Hua Jin, Bai Yu, and Song Lin,” he announced. “You will join the main force under General Geshu Lin’s command. You are to follow closely, provide medical support from enemies’ sights, and remain hidden until called upon.”

The five rearguards nodded solemnly. They gathered their gear and stood off to the side, ready to integrate with the main troop led by the formidable general himself.

Changmin moved down the list, his pen tapping against the paper as he assigned the rest. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, and (Y/n), you will be assigned to Vanguard Troop Two, led by Captain Shen Xue. This troop will be stationed to the east of the battlefield. Your task is the same – stay close, provide support, and be prepared for any unexpected developments.”

You nodded before you and the rest hurried to meet up with Vanguard Troop Two. Captain Shen Xue, a stoic man with short, dark hair and sharp features, was already waiting for you in the queue. He gave each of you a once-over with a quick, assessing glance.

“Rearguards,” he greeted with a curt nod, his voice steady but firm. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, (Y/n), I expect you to stay vigilant and act swiftly. We’ll be stationed in a high-risk zone, so there won’t be much room for mistakes. Do your job, and we’ll keep the frontlines intact.”

You and your squadmates nodded in unison, absorbing his words. The captain didn’t linger on formalities or small talk; he was straight to the point. After a few more brief instructions, Shen Xue gestured for all of you to line up with the rest of the troop.

It didn’t take long before the familiar figure of Geshu Lin strode to the very front of the gathered forces, his presence as commanding as ever. The general’s long white hair moved gently with the wind, and his cold, piercing gaze swept over the assembled rangers.

Geshu Lin stopped in front of his main troop’s line and blinked, something shifting in his expression as if realization suddenly dawned on him. His sharp voice cut through the silence. “Rearguards, raise your hands.”

The rearguards assigned to his main force obeyed immediately, raising their hands without hesitation. The general’s eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized them. After a moment, he asked, “Are any of you a Resonator?”

The rearguards exchanged brief, uneasy glances before answering in unison, “No, sir.”

Geshu Lin’s expression remained unreadable as he processed the rearguards’ response. Then, without warning, he walked past his own troop and strode down the lines of assembled rangers. His long hair trailed behind him as his sharp gaze swept over the troops. His eyes moved purposefully, scanning each soldier with an intensity that made the air feel even heavier.

You watched him carefully, your curiosity piqued. What is he looking for? You could feel the tension ripple through the ranks as he approached closer to your position. You braced yourself, hoping that whatever was on his mind didn’t involve you. Yet, as if drawn by some unseen force, the general’s footsteps led him directly toward Vanguard Troop Two.

He moved with quiet precision, his eyes glancing past several of your fellow squad-mates. For a moment, it seemed like he would continue walking, passing your troop without incident. But then, just as he neared, his gaze landed squarely on you. Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety shooting through your veins as he suddenly stopped and stood right in front of you.

You looked up at him, your wide, startled eyes meeting his cold, piercing gaze. His towering presence made you feel impossibly small, his expression giving away nothing. You wondered what you had done to draw his attention. Did you make a mistake earlier? Did he disapprove of something? Your mind raced as you tried to decipher the reason for his sudden focus on you.

Then you realized. Is he going to scold me in front of everybody for being insolent to him last night?

Before you could react further, Captain Shen Xue noticed the interaction and quickly approached. He stopped beside Geshu Lin and asked, “What’s the matter, General?”

For a moment, Geshu Lin didn’t respond. His cold gaze remained locked on you as though he were assessing something beyond what you could comprehend. The silence stretched uncomfortably, your anxiety climbing higher with every second that passed.

“You,” Geshu Lin said to you, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “You will join my troop. Your Resonance skills are better suited for the frontlines.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The shock of his words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly. You, reassigned to the main force? His troop at the frontlines? A whirlwind of thoughts spun in your mind, and you couldn’t decide if this was an honour or a punishment.

Geshu Lin paused, his cold gaze flickering away from you as he looked elsewhere, his sharp voice ringing out again. “Who was in charge of reassigning the medics?”

Changmin, the senior rearguard, cautiously stepped forward. His posture stiffened as he spoke, “It was me, sir.”

Silently, Geshu Lin turned his back on the assembled troops and began walking toward his main force. His long white hair breezed after him as he moved. Over his shoulder, he commanded, “This Resonator will be in my troop. Swap her in.”

“Yes, sir,” Changmin replied, his voice steady as if he was glad he didn’t get scolded.

As the general disappeared into the distance, Changmin pulled out the same list and scanned through it. With a quick pen stroke, he made an adjustment, then looked at you and gestured for you to follow him. Still reeling from the sudden change of events, you found yourself moving without thought, your feet carrying you forward as if on autopilot.

You ended up standing in front of the main force, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of your new reality began to sink in. This was no ordinary assignment. You were now in the presence of Geshu Lin’s elite. The responsibility, the danger, all of it felt heavier than before.

Changmin offered a brief explanation. “Song Lin, you have been reassigned to Vanguard Troop Two. (Y/n), you will take over her place.”

Song Lin, one of the rearguards originally assigned to the main force, stepped forward. Surprise was vivid on her face. She gave you a slight nod before heading off to join Vanguard Troop Two, leaving you standing in her former spot.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. This was happening. You were now part of the general’s troop, standing at the very front of the battle line.

You couldn’t help but glance at Jiyan, who was standing in the rearguards’ queue. He was already looking at you. Once you two made steady eye contact, he mouthed to you soundlessly, “Be careful.”

You nodded, feeling pale all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe this. One moment, you were back there, and now you were at the very front. You felt your heart being seized by a cold, gripping sensation. Fear. Anxious. Horror. What did you do to have brought yourself here? Was it because the general had seen what you were capable of last night? Is this called a butterfly effect?

A noise from the front snapped you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head, and there he was – Geshu Lin, standing before you, his back broad and imposing. He had a large, deadly broadblade in hand, its cold metal gleaming in the dim light. You watched in awe and nervousness as he calmly attached it to his back, his movements precise and practised. The blade seemed almost too large for one person to wield, yet in his hands, it looked as natural as breathing.

Then, his voice rang out, commanding and unwavering. “Rangers, it’s fight or die. We move forward.”

The response from the troops was immediate and unified. “Yes, sir!”

With that, the entire troop began to move, marching steadily toward the battlefield. You felt your legs moving, too, but the cold grip of fear hadn’t loosened its hold on your heart.

As you approached the site, a vast stretch of rugged terrain came into view. You recognized it from the hologram you saw previously. It was an unforgiving landscape, littered with jagged rocks, uneven slopes, and scattered ridges that would be perfect hiding spots for the Tacet Discords. The wind howled through the valley, giving a sense of foreboding.

But the Discords had yet to appear.

A senior strategist, a man with greying hair and sharp eyes, quickly approached Geshu Lin’s side. Keeping his voice low, he said, “General, TDs are nowhere to be seen yet. This could be the perfect opportunity to set up our formation.”

Geshu Lin, who had been surveying the landscape with a cold, calculating gaze, nodded slightly. Without a word, he moved ahead, his broadblade still resting on his back as if anticipating the moment he would need it. His presence, as always, felt larger than life, keeping your gaze glued to him almost all the time.

The strategist began issuing commands swiftly, relaying the formation plan the group had discussed earlier. As planned, the vanguard troops were divided into two main fronts – one to hold the Discords in the valley and the other to sweep in from the east.

You were part of the rearguard that would stay close but out of sight, hidden in the alcoves and rock formations along the ridges. It was a strategic position, covering the injured while keeping you near enough to assist when needed. But it also placed you dangerously close to the front lines, and that frightened you. You might not show it, but you were terrified.

As the troops began to take their positions, you scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement. The Discords could strike at any moment. From the corner of your eye, you saw Geshu Lin moving with purpose, positioning himself at the forefront of his main troop.

The wind picked up, carrying a distant, unsettling sound. You weren’t sure if it was the TDs or just the valley playing tricks on your ears, but it made you shiver. Beside you, one of the rearguards muttered under their breath, “It’s too quiet…”

You couldn’t agree more. Every second of silence felt like the calm before a storm. You glanced at Geshu Lin again, feeling reliant on him now. He stood motionless as though he was waiting – listening.

Just as the silence began to stretch, a piercing scream shattered the stillness, causing everyone to jump. Instinctively, you turned to see a gigantic, mayfly-like creature burst forth from a hidden crevice, its iridescent wings glistening in the dim light.

Panic surged through you as the Tacet Discord, known as a Cruisewing, zeroed in on Hua Jin, one of the medics selected for Geshu Lin’s troop. It swooped down with a terrifying speed, its long, stinger-like appendage aimed straight at him.

Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror. The creature stung Hua Jin in the ribs, and he gasped, collapsing to the ground in an instant. Chaos erupted as soldiers shouted, their voices mingling with the frantic beating of wings. You could feel your heart racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Without a second thought, you instinctively dashed forward, urgency propelling you toward Hua Jin. You had to reach him; you had to heal him. But the Cruisewing loomed dangerously close, its wings buzzing ominously. You knew you had to act quickly, but fear gripped you tightly.

Then, something shot past you, a blur of motion that made your breath hitch. It was General Geshu Lin. He appeared beside Hua Jin in the blink of an eye, his cold demeanour unshaken even amidst the chaos. With a swift and practised movement, he drew his broadblade and swung it with deadly precision. The Cruisewing barely had time to react before the blade sliced through the air, cutting it in two.

The creature crumpled to the ground, its body collapsing lifelessly beside Hua Jin. You stood frozen for a moment, disbelief washing over you as you processed what had just happened. Everything was too fast. Your poor medic self couldn’t keep up.

That was the first time you had gotten so close to a Tacet Discord. And that was also your first time seeing a powerful Resonator in action before your eyes. General Geshu Lin… was outstanding in his own way.

Hua Jin's pained groan finally snapped you out of your trance. Your heart raced as you rushed to his side. Kneeling beside him, you inspected the wound. The Cruisewing's sting had left a deep gash, and you could see the traces of venom spreading around it, dark and pulsing ominously against his skin.

“Rangers, bring him behind that boulder,” Geshu Lin commanded. He pointed to a large boulder nearby, its sheer size providing a potential shelter. “And get back to your formation. Enemies incoming.”

You glanced up, following his gaze, and your heart dropped. A horde of Tacet Discords surged toward you from the distance, their grotesque forms moving with a disturbing grace. They poured down the hill like a dark tide, some of them massive, their bodies armoured and imposing. One of them stood out with thick, shell-like plating, a true embodiment of terror that sent a chill through your bones.

This was the first time you had seen such a horrifying army of Tacet Discords up close, and the sight was enough to make your blood run cold. The sheer scale of their numbers and the brutal power they exuded filled you with dread. If there were no Midnight Rangers and no Resonators, this army could take down Jinzhou easily.

You joined the other rangers as they lifted Hua Jin, struggling to keep him steady as they manoeuvred him toward the boulder. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the ground tremble beneath you, the approaching Discords growing nearer with every passing second.

Once you reached the boulder, you quickly set Hua Jin down and crouched beside him. The rest of the rearguards were about to tend to Hua Jin with their tools, and you quickly interjected, “It’s okay. I can handle him from here. Save your tools.”

The rearguards gave you a nod of acknowledgement before they moved to another location, readying themselves for the next wave of wounded. You turned your attention wholly to Hua Jin, your hands already glowing with the familiar resonance of your healing ability. The cold energy surged from your palms, sinking into his flesh, gradually closing the venomous wound inflicted by the Cruisewing. Hua Jin winced but gave no further sign of pain.

Suddenly, a deafening roar reverberated through the air, followed by a blast so powerful it nearly knocked you off your feet. You jerked your head toward the battlefield, eyes wide with shock. Dark purple flames crackled and danced across the ground, leaving scorched earth in their wake. Geshu Lin had unleashed his Resonance Liberation – an overwhelming surge of power that ignited the battlefield just as the Tacet Discord army closed in.

The war had begun.

The vanguards met the advancing horde of Discords with fierce determination, their guns firing like crazy at the twisted monstrosities. The air was thick with the sounds of battle – metal against bone, the screeches of the Discords, and the shouts of rangers giving orders and rallying each other.

You poured more of your Resonance into Hua Jin, sealing his wound completely, leaving behind a pale, icy scar of Glacio. He studied it briefly, then looked at you with a grateful nod.

“Thanks,” he murmured before getting to his feet. His eyes were wide, scanning the battlefield as he hurried off to another boulder, ready to assist the wounded as they came.

You remained behind, pressing your back against the gigantic rock that provided you with a great hiding spot. This was your spot now. You had to stay here, waiting for the inevitable flood of injured rangers needing your healing. The sounds of battle raged on, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at the chaos unfolding before you.

Geshu Lin was at the forefront, his movements precise and deadly as he cut down Tacet Discords left and right. The purple flames from his Resonance Liberation still lingered on the battlefield, creating a scorching barrier between the vanguards and the incoming horde. But despite his overwhelming power, more Discords poured in, seemingly endless.

One of the armoured beasts, its hide impenetrable like stone, charged at a group of rangers. Its massive, clawed limbs dug into the earth as it barrelled toward them, and for a moment, you feared for their lives. But just as it was about to reach them, Geshu Lin was there, his broadblade flashing in the air. With a swift, decisive strike, he cleaved the monster's head clean off, sending its body crashing to the ground.

You watched in awe, barely comprehending the sheer power of the man leading the vanguard.

Before you could gawk any longer at the general’s skill, movement from the corner of your eye snapped you back to reality. Wounded rangers were limping toward the rearguards, struggling to reach safety. You blinked, refocusing, and quickly rushed to meet them. The battlefield thundered around you, but you blocked it out, setting your focus entirely on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, you called upon your Glacio Resonance, feeling the familiar cold energy surge through you. Your hands glowed faintly as you began healing the wounded soldiers, patching them up one by one.

“Another army of Tacet Discords incoming from the left!” someone shouted, their voice hoarse with alarm.

Your head snapped toward the left. Eyes wide, you spotted it – another wave of Discords charging from that direction. Larger. Fiercer. Your stomach dropped.

Fear coursed through you like ice, but you didn’t let it take hold. Not now. There were soldiers in front of you, hurt and bleeding. You couldn’t waste time.

You pressed your hands against a ranger’s arm, sealing his wound shut. You couldn’t afford to think about what was coming. The only thing you could do was keep healing. Keep them alive.

The ground trembled again as the new horde grew closer. You could hear their shrieks now, their guttural howls mingling with the cries of your fellow rangers. But you forced yourself to stay calm, to keep working.

“Stay with me,” you told another ranger, his breathing ragged as you closed a nasty gash on his leg. He nodded, though his eyes were glazed with pain.

All around, the sound of gunfire and metal clashing with Discord flesh raged on. You cast a quick glance at the battlefield, spotting Geshu Lin once more. He hadn’t stopped, still cutting down Discords like a force of nature.

But that didn’t make the army charging from the left any less terrifying. They were coming, and fast.

The sight of the monstrous horde surging toward you made your heart pound painfully in your chest. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. You quickly averted your gaze, focusing back on the wounded soldiers at your feet.

One breath. Then another.

Suddenly, a blast hit the battlefield with a force that shook the ground beneath you. It was so powerful that even the rushing rangers halted in their tracks. A hot breeze followed, washing over you and filling the air with heat and dust.

Your head snapped up, curiosity sparking through the fear. What was that?

It was Geshu Lin.

The general had unleashed another wave of his Resonance Liberation, an attack so fierce it obliterated half of the incoming Tacet Discord army in one devastating blow. Dark purple flames coated the ground where his energy had struck, their eerie glow lighting up the chaos.

You stared in awe as the aftermath settled, and Reverberations of the fallen Tacet Discords flickered faintly, ghostly echoes of their defeat. But what struck you most was Geshu Lin himself. His broadblade now burned with those same dark flames, and the air around him charged with energy, almost crackling. He looked unstoppable.

But it wasn’t over.

The other half of the Discord army still pressed forward. You felt the tension in the air shift, the other rangers glancing warily at the oncoming monsters. Even with Geshu Lin’s power, the fight was far from won.

You turned back to the soldier beneath you. His wounds were closing, but the exhaustion was beginning to wear on you. Each use of your Resonance drained you a little more. But you couldn’t stop. Not yet.

Another wounded ranger stumbled toward you, blood running down their arm. You waved them over, saying, “Please lie down. I will tend to you in seconds!”

There was no time for fear. Just survival.

Hours blurred into each other as you worked. You barely noticed time passing. Your focus was on the wounded soldiers in front of you, one after the other, each needing your Resonance to close their gashes, mend their broken bones, or seal deadly stings. The battlefield was a blur of chaos and noise, but you had no time to let it sink in.

Every now and then, you’d feel the familiar surge of energy in the air – Geshu Lin unleashing yet another mighty blast of his Resonance. The waves of dark energy crackled across the battlefield, buying precious seconds for the rangers to regroup, though each blast seemed to echo a grim truth. The Tacet Discords weren’t stopping.

You were exhausted, barely catching your breath between wounded rangers who stumbled toward you, bloodied and broken. Still, you pressed on, the icy Glacio Resonance flowing from your hands like second nature. You had to keep them alive.

And then, out of nowhere, a soft beep cut through the din. A message.

Your Terminal buzzed at your back, and you quickly wiped the growing Glacio and blood off of your hands on your uniform before tapping it. A small hologram popped up, floating in the air beside you. Jiyan’s message. You checked the time, your eyes widening in shock. Six hours had passed since the battle started.

His voice was calm, but the urgency in his message was apparent.

“Intel reports the waves of Tacet Discords aren’t stopping anytime soon. I’ve been cleared to move the other rearguards closer to the site. Let the injured know they can head to our makeshift tent, just down the road from the battlefield.”

You quickly glanced around, spotting more wounded rangers struggling to move, some on the verge of collapse. Relief washed over you. Finally, backup. But the never-ending onslaught of Discords meant the battle was far from over.

You sent a brief verbal response to Jiyan before you turned to the nearest ranger. His arm – which was bent abnormally – was devoid of pain for the time being since you had tended to him using your Glacio skill briefly. It helped him withstand the pain as you helped the other injured rangers who were in a much more critical condition. You spoke quickly, “There's a makeshift tent down the road. Can you walk?”

He nodded weakly.

“Good. Head that way. More medics are there, and they’ll take over.”

One by one, you began directing the wounded yet capable soldiers toward the tent while you received those with critical conditions. As you watched them stagger toward safety, you couldn’t help but feel a knot of dread forming in your chest.

The waves were unrelenting. What if they never stopped?

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a veteran strategist sprinting toward the centre of the battlefield, weaving through the chaos. He halted just shy of Geshu Lin, who was locked in combat with a swarm of massive Tacet Discords, their grotesque forms looming over him. The general, undeterred, was carving through them like they were nothing.

“General!” the strategist shouted, voice strained as he fought to be heard over the clamour. “Intel reports the waves won’t stop! More are coming! We need to pull back and regroup our forces!”

For a moment, you held your breath, watching as Geshu Lin dispatched the last of the ten towering Discords with a few lethal swings of his broadblade. Dark flames still clung to his blade, crackling ominously. He didn’t even glance at the strategist when he spoke, voice low but resolute.

“No retreat,” he said. “We reclaim this site at once.”

The strategist’s face paled, but he didn’t argue. You felt the weight of Geshu Lin’s decision settle over the battlefield like a heavy fog. Retreat was not an option. Not under his command.

Your heart pounded as the enormity of the situation sank in. The Discords kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless. But retreat wasn’t on the table.

You continued tending to the wounded, hands trembling as your Resonance took its toll. The constant use of Glacio was wearing you down, and the signs were showing. Ice crystals began to form at the tips of your fingers, slowly creeping toward your palms. You tried shaking it off, clenching and unclenching your fists to restore warmth, but the frost always returned.

With each passing second, the cold intensified.

A sudden scream cut through the chaos, sharp and panicked. It wasn’t far from you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your hands pressed against the wounded ranger in front of you, your Glacio healing him just enough to stabilize the bleeding. Still, your gaze darted to the battlefield.

There, not too far away, a ranger had fallen, sprawled on the ground in a heap. Standing over him was a Tacet Discord you recognized all too well – a Fusion Warrior.

The monster was humanoid in shape, but its arms were grotesque, massive limbs made of Fusion-infused rock that tapered to a sharp, deadly point, like a giant spearhead. It moved with terrifying speed, faster than anything its size should. You’d seen these before. They didn’t just attack. They targeted. They locked onto their prey and struck with a speed that made escape nearly impossible.

The wounded soldier scrambled to his feet, sprinting toward safety, toward you. But then you saw it – just behind him, the Fusion Warrior braced itself to strike.

"Behind you!" you screamed, your voice raw with urgency.

The ranger barely had time to turn before the Fusion Warrior zipped forward, faster than anything that large had a right to be. Its jagged, stone-like arm pierced him straight through the abdomen. His scream tore through the battlefield as the Tacet Discord lifted him off the ground, his body hanging limply from the monster’s spear-like arm.

Panic surged through you. Without hesitation, you shot to your feet, heart hammering as you darted toward them. The battlefield felt different once you stepped into its heart – a visceral wave of death, blood, and decay hit you all at once. The stench was suffocating, but you pushed through. Your mind was fixed on saving the ranger.

With a swift motion, you summoned your weapon. Your rectifier materialized in the air beside you, its form glowing with the icy blue of your Glacio Resonance. You didn't waste time. With a sharp flick of your wrist, you unleashed a gust of Glacio, a chilling blast that slammed into the Fusion Warrior, shoving it away. The monster released its grip, and the ranger fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

You rushed to his side, quickly forming a Glacio shield around you both. The shield shimmered, a translucent barrier of ice standing between you and the horrors outside. You barely had time to breathe, hands already embracing him in an attempt to help him get on his feet.

Then, you felt it – a sudden impact. Your shield shuddered but held. You glanced up. The same Fusion Warrior. It had recovered quickly, and now it was striking at your shield, trying to pierce through. Its rock-hard arm bounced off the ice, but the cracks spreading through your shield told you it wouldn’t hold much longer.

"Get down!" one of the rangers shouted.

You didn’t hesitate. Instinctively, you ducked, grabbing the injured man beside you and pushing his head down with your hand. Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as gunfire erupted around you. The nearby rangers unloaded their pistols at the Fusion Warrior, bullets bouncing off its stony form like pebbles against a mountain.

It didn’t flinch.

A golden light began to seep from the monster’s body, a faint glow that quickly spread across its jagged surface. Your stomach dropped. You knew that light. This wasn’t just any Tacet Discord. This was a Phantom. Rare. More robust than most, with a resilience that bordered on invulnerability.

You didn’t have time to think. The Fusion Warrior locked onto you, its glowing form charging up for another attack. You watched in horror as it prepared to strike, so focused on you like a predator eyeing its prey. Your Glacio shield flickered, barely holding.

And then – it zipped forward.

The world seemed to slow as the Fusion Warrior’s rock-hard arm slammed into your Glacio shield one last time. There was a sharp crack, like ice snapping in a frozen river, and your shield shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. The shards evaporated in the air before they could even touch the ground.

Your breath caught in your throat. The Fusion Warrior braced itself, ready to strike again. There was no time to react, no time to form another shield. You were defenceless.

But before the monster could land its fatal blow, a broadblade, dark and deadly, pierced through its abdomen with brutal force.

You blinked, stunned. The Fusion Warrior froze in mid-attack, its body impaled by the blade. Slowly, it was lifted off the ground, suspended in the air by the sheer strength of the one who wielded the weapon.

It’s the general.

With a swift, ruthless motion, the general slammed the Fusion Warrior back down into the earth. The monster let out a low, echoing shriek before its form disappeared in an instant, enacting a loud ‘poof’ sound. In its place, the faint echo of its presence – the Reverberation – flickered unmovingly.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The danger was gone, just like that. The ranger you were shielding groaned, still in pain but alive. You firmly held him to your side as you began to head towards your spot, knowing he needed immediate attention.

Still, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at the man who had saved you. Geshu Lin moved with the calm precision of someone born for this kind of chaos. His broadblade gleamed, still carrying the eerie glow of the monster’s end. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down. Just strode right back into the heart of the battle as if he hadn’t just saved your life in a single, devastating blow.

You tore your eyes away. Focus. There are more lives on the line. More wounded rangers need your help.

The injured ranger at your side groaned again, his weight sagging heavily against you. He was in bad shape, barely conscious, and his breathing laboured. You shifted your grip on him, pulling his arm tighter over your shoulder, and forced yourself to push through the exhaustion.

“You’re going to be fine,” you murmured to him, though it felt like you were saying that to yourself too. To convince yourself. Your body was screaming, your Glacio Resonance draining your energy with every passing second. The icy numbness creeping up your arms was spreading faster now, and your fingertips had long since lost feeling.

But you couldn’t stop.

You managed to get him back to your spot behind the boulder. You eased him down carefully, and your hands moved on instinct, channelling more Resonance you had left into healing him.

The ice crawled up your palms, biting at your wrists. You grit your teeth, suppressing a shiver. The cold was relentless, but so was the battle raging around you. It felt like it would never end.

An hour crawled by. Grueling. Endless.

Your hands trembled from the effort of healing, your body aching from the constant drain of Resonance. The numbness was spreading past your wrists now, ice biting deeper with each spell you cast. Still, you kept going. You had to. There was no other choice.

Then, a voice rang out over the battlefield – clear, commanding. It was the veteran strategist again.

“This will be the last army, everyone! Stay strong!”

The words echoed like a lifeline.

A chorus of cheers and battle cries rose from the Midnight Rangers, their spirits lifting despite the exhaustion etched into their faces. Even you, buried behind your boulder with your hands freezing solid, felt a spark of renewed energy.

The end was in sight.

You could do this. You could hold on. Just a little longer.

The ranger lying down behind the boulder with you stirred, his breathing steadier now. You glanced at him, relieved to see the colour returning to his face. He’d live. He might not walk right for a while, but he’d live.

Your eyes scanned the battlefield, catching sight of the new wave approaching. The last wave. It was bigger, more ferocious than any before, but something about knowing it was the final one made it bearable.

“Hang on, everyone,” you whispered to yourself.

As you prepared to brace for the oncoming horde, a blast of heat swept across the field, accompanied by a deep, rumbling roar. Your head snapped toward the source, and you spotted him once again. Geshu Lin.

He stood at the front lines, flames erupting from his Resonance Liberation, his broadblade ablaze with the fire of battle. His presence alone was like a beacon of power, a promise that this was the final stand.

But the Discords were relentless. You could see them closing in, their grotesque forms twisting and screeching as they rushed forward.

Your muscles tensed, cold sweat mixing with the icy numbness spreading through your limbs.

One more push.

And so, you pushed through, your focus narrowing to the wounded soldiers at your side. The biting iciness that had crawled up your arms was a distant, muted ache now. Your hands were nearly numb, but it didn’t matter. Not now. You just had to keep going.

The sounds of battle raged on in the distance – the clash of metal, the shrieks of Discords, the roar of flames. But you forced yourself to block it out. The rangers in front of you needed you more. Their bloodied bodies and their laboured breathing all demanded your attention. You couldn’t let them down.

Minutes dragged into what felt like hours. The cold was creeping into your bones, making every movement feel like a battle in itself. But you didn’t stop. Not until the last wound was sealed, the last breath stabilized.

Then, something changed.

The sounds of battle began to fade, bit by bit. The furious din of clashing steel and monstrous howls ebbed away, replaced by…silence. Almost eerie at first. But then, you heard it – the distant cheer of voices rising in unison.

You paused, blinking in disbelief. Is it over?

Looking up from the wounded ranger beneath your hands, your eyes scanned the battlefield. The Tacet Discords… they were gone. Annihilated. Where once their grotesque forms had filled the landscape, only the shimmering echoes of Reverberations remained. The Midnight Rangers were erupting in cheers. Some of them embraced, others patted each other on the back. The relief was palpable, like a wave of hope washing over the field.

We won. A tired grin tugged at your lips. We actually won this time.

The weight of exhaustion hit you all at once. Your half-frozen and tired hands threatened to fall to your sides. The battle had been brutal and relentless, but it was over – finally.

Then, the veteran strategist’s voice cut through the noise. “Everyone, let’s head back to base! Bring the wounded on stretchers so they can be treated properly. The rearguards off-site will come to retrieve the bodies.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, the tension leaving your body all at once. Slowly, you stood and began organizing the rangers under your care, helping them onto makeshift stretchers.

And as you watched the last of the injured being carried off toward safety, a quiet, weary sense of victory settled over you.

Fortunately, you survived another war.

That’s when you heard your name being called. You turned, catching sight of the rearguards in the same main troop with you rushing over. Their eyes flickered to your half-frozen arms; concern etched into their faces.

“Are you okay?” Liang Mei asked, her voice edged with worry.

You tried to wave it off, quite literally, lifting your arm into the air. But the action felt ridiculous. Your limb, encased in ice, barely moved, the frosty layer clinging stubbornly to your skin. You attempted a reassuring smile as you said, “I’m fine. A proper rest will thaw these out.”

Liang Mei raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Beside her, Yin Lei shook his head. “Let’s get you to the base. The sooner we reach it, the sooner you can rest.”

Hua Jin stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “I’m worried about your hands. Is this... because of your Resonance? Too much usage?”

You nodded, still flexing your fingers, trying to regain some sensation. “Yeah. It’ll go away, as long as I don’t use my Resonance again for today.”

Liang Mei took a step toward you. “Can you walk? I can help.”

You smiled at her, appreciating the concern. “I can walk, thank you. Now, let’s go.”

With that, the group fell into step, letting you follow behind. Most of the Midnight Rangers had already begun the long trek back to the base. Some rushed, eager to leave the battlefield behind. Others moved more slowly, burdened by their injuries or simply drained of strength. The trail of soldiers stretched far ahead, a sombre line of survivors.

You fell into the rhythm of walking, your breath coming out in short, cold bursts. The icy numbness still crawled up your arms, but you clenched your hands into fists, trying to push it away. You could make it. You just needed to hold out a little longer.

As you trudged forward, lost in your thoughts, a sudden warmth radiated from beside you. A familiar broadblade engulfed in dark flames appeared near your side. Startled, you glanced over and saw him – the formidable general, Geshu Lin, walking next to you, his weapon still burning with the intense heat of his Resonance.

You faltered, coming to a stop as surprise and confusion flooded your mind. The rest of your group continued ahead, but you stood still, your gaze locked on the imposing figure beside you. Geshu Lin, too, halted, his broadblade still ablaze with those strange, dark flames.

You stared up at him, unable to read his expression. His towering frame cast a shadow over you, and his face remained as indifferent as ever – cold, detached, as though the chaos and destruction of the battle hadn’t fazed him at all. Even when he had obliterated the Tacet Discords earlier, and when he had saved you from the Fusion Warrior, his demeanour hadn’t changed.

For a short moment, neither of you spoke. You couldn’t understand what he was doing or why his broadblade was so close to you. But the warmth... it seeped into your frozen hands, offering a relief you hadn’t expected.

Then, in that low, commanding voice of his, Geshu Lin finally spoke. “Warm your hands with these.”

His words, though unexpected, held no room for argument. You hesitated only for a second before slowly extending your hands toward the fire. Once your frozen hands were raised over the flames, the warmth hugged around your fingers, melting the ice that had encased them. Relief flooded through you as the numbness faded.

You cast your gaze up to meet his, still unsure why he was offering this small kindness. The general didn’t strike you as the type to concern himself with others, least of all a medic like you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, unsure what else to say.

Geshu Lin didn’t respond. His expression remained unreadable, but he kept the broadblade steady, letting the warmth flow toward you as you absorbed the heat. The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of unspoken words.

As you stood there, you felt the ice around your hands thawing at a steady pace. You flexed your fingers repeatedly, willing the warmth to spread faster. The general watched quietly, his grip on the broadblade steady, ensuring its flames remained just close enough to provide relief.

In no time, the last remnants of ice disappeared, and you pulled your hands away from the heat. Geshu Lin also withdrew his weapon, the dark flames flickering out and dissipating into the cool night air. He strapped the broadblade securely to his back, a seamless motion that spoke of years of practice.

That’s when your eyes fell on his left arm. You froze, your heart sinking at the sight of several long, open cuts marring his skin, each one a stark reminder of the battle. Scars crisscrossed over old wounds, a testament to the violence he had faced. You couldn’t help but gasp, your concern spilling out before you could rein it in. “General, you are hurt.”

“It is nothing,” he replied, his voice flat and dismissive.

“Sir, I can heal you,” you insisted, urgency creeping into your tone. “It’ll only take a moment.”

He turned to you, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I refuse.”

You blinked, taken aback by his stubbornness. “But-”

“Not every injury requires treatment,” he interrupted, his tone brokering no argument. “Focus on yourself. Your Resonance ability will be needed in the upcoming battle. We might go to war tomorrow again.”

You fell silent, contemplating his words. Maybe his stubbornness came from knowing you had pushed yourself too hard today. If you heal him, the biting ice will materialize again, and his effort to warm your hands will go to waste.

You flexed your fingers again, feeling the sensations return slowly. As your breath steadied, you looked up and caught the general’s gaze. He was watching you quietly. But when your eyes met, he turned his attention to the horizon, where some of the Midnight Rangers faded into the distance.

Without another word, he resumed walking, his broadblade resting casually on his back. You fell in step beside him, your legs moving almost on autopilot as you kept pace with him. The remaining soldiers of Midnight Rangers were behind you two, heading toward the base as well.

It felt strange. Surreal, even. Here you were, walking alongside the most formidable figure in the army. The general didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that a typical medic was at his side. A twinge of discomfort crept in. Did he see you as an equal, or was he merely indifferent?

Fearing you might be annoying him, you instinctively stepped to the side, increasing the distance between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was to be an unwelcome distraction, especially to the man who had saved you.

As you and the general walked toward the base, the night seemed to grow quieter, the weight of the recent battle settling in. Every step felt heavy with unspoken thoughts, but neither of you broke the silence. It wasn’t long before a few veteran Rangers made their way toward Geshu Lin, falling into step beside him.

One of them, a tall, grizzled soldier, cleared his throat before speaking, “General, what are your orders for tomorrow? We’d like to prepare ahead of time.”

You watched them, walking a careful distance from your side. Geshu Lin didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, his face as unreadable as ever. He seemed to be lost in thought, though whether about the question or something deeper, you couldn’t tell.

Then, his voice cut through the stillness. “We’ll rest tomorrow. Full rest.”

The soldiers around him exchanged surprised glances, clearly not expecting that response. Geshu Lin continued, his tone firm but calm. “Those who wish to return to Jinzhou will be granted leave. But station a troop at the reclaimed site. We can’t risk a Tacet Discord ambush.”

One of the veterans blinked in disbelief before responding, his voice filled with gratitude, “Understood, sir.”

The veterans intentionally slowed down their walking pace to let the general walk ahead. As you kept up to pace with the white-haired general, you processed the discussion. Rest? It wasn’t a word often heard in the general’s vocabulary. The soldiers had clearly been taken aback too, and you couldn’t blame them. Geshu Lin was known for pushing his forces – and himself – beyond the limits.

You glanced at Geshu Lin, his focus still trained straight ahead. His long white hair fluttered slightly in the wind, a striking contrast against the night. There was something you wanted to say – needed to say, really. He had saved you from the Phantom Fusion Warrior. You owed him more than just your thanks.

But the words stuck in your throat. You were shy, and for a very good reason.

The Midnight Rangers surrounded you, still marching back to base. Their presence made you hesitate. You knew they'd wonder why someone like you would dare speak to the general. Would they mock you for it later? Or worse – would Geshu Lin himself dismiss you?

Still, you couldn’t shake the growing need to express your gratitude. You owed him that much. Just say it, you urged yourself.

Minutes later, the base’s outline appeared on the horizon, its flickering lights casting shadows across the barren landscape. As you approached, the familiar clatter of soldiers preparing for rest or practice broke the quiet – metal against metal, boots on gravel, and the occasional sharp bark of commands.

One by one, the Midnight Rangers peeled away, disappearing into various corners of the base. You glanced around and realized the two of you were nearly alone. It was now or never. But before you could work up the courage, you noticed Geshu Lin was already looking at you.

His eyes locked with yours for a heartbeat. Then, without a word, he broke the gaze and veered off, taking a different path.

Something snapped inside you.

“Sir!” you called after him, the word escaping before you could second-guess it.

Geshu paused but didn’t turn around immediately. The silence stretched, making your heart race. You wondered if you had made a mistake, if you had crossed a line. But then, slowly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder.

You took a breath. “I just… wanted to thank you. For saving me earlier. I don’t think I’d be here… if not for you.”

The words tumbled out faster than you intended, your nerves making your voice a little shakier than you’d hoped. For a moment, you felt the weight of your words hanging in the air between you, vulnerable and raw.

Geshu Lin’s expression remained unreadable. His sharp features held that same indifferent, almost cold look, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. For a long, unbearable moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched, and you began to second-guess yourself, a knot of regret tightening in your chest.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke with his voice low but clear, “From now on, you will no longer be stationed with the rearguard in upcoming battles.”

Your heart sank for a second, misinterpreting his words. Had he decided you were a liability? Were you being removed from the battlefield altogether?

But then he added, “You will maintain your position as a medic... in my main troop.”

You blinked, stunned. Your eyes widened in disbelief as the weight of his words hit you. Main troop? The general's own unit?

“I’ll inform the person in charge about your reassignment,” he continued without waiting for your response. His tone was matter-of-fact, as though he hadn’t just upended your entire world with a single sentence.

Before you could gather your thoughts, before you could process the implications of what he’d just said, Geshu Lin turned and resumed walking, his broadblade gleaming faintly in the dim light as he disappeared into the camp.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, the realization slowly sinking in. The main troop. His troop. It was an honor, one reserved for the most elite soldiers and specialists, those the general trusted with the most critical missions. And now, somehow, you were one of them.

Your hands trembled slightly – not from the cold, but from the sudden rush of adrenaline and disbelief. The steady life continued around you, oblivious to the monumental shift in your fate. It was hard to comprehend. One moment, you were thanking him, and the next, he had placed you in the heart of the battlefield, under his direct command.

Why? The question burned in your mind. Was it a test, or a show of faith? Or was this simply his way of repaying a debt for the lives you’d saved?

Worry gnawed at you, a sharp edge of fear creeping in. The front lines. It wasn’t just a promotion – it was a death sentence in disguise. The gruesome Tacet Discords, with their twisted forms and relentless attacks, would be your new reality. Every battle would place you face-to-face with them, and every moment would carry the risk of not coming back. Your life, fragile as it was, would be hanging by a thread.

You were scared. Terrified, even.

Your hands trembled again, this time from the weight of that realization. Could you handle it? Could you really survive in a world of constant danger, where hesitation could get you – or worse, your comrades – killed? Doubt clawed at your mind. For a moment, you wanted to march right back and beg Geshu Lin to reconsider.

But then, somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered.

You’ll be fine. Just like how he had saved you back then, he would save you again.

That thought somewhat calmed you down. Maybe, you will survive under his care.

Please leave a comment on what you think about this story/chapter. I really want to know your thoughts on this.

[konigsblog]

ORLA I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING

perverted konig with innocent reader asking about his exercise routine so konig imagines reader being all sweaty with her tits peeking out of her shirt. and when he makes reader do sit ups hes like "you know how i make my sit ups faster? i take my shirt off." and readers just like.. okay :3

tw: dub-con (?)

you're too trusting and naïve, and könig's too disgusting and perverted. his stomach tightens at the sudden thought, a grin curling the sides of his mouth, how he's able to have you listening obediently, eagerly learning off of him and looking up at him for inspiration. :(

“take your shirt off, little mouse. it makes my sit-ups faster, dear...” and, of course, you listen so, so well, just like he expected. you lift your arms up, he sucks in a sharp breath at the hardness of your nipples, his chest rising and falling as you discard your shirt, removing it and freaking your pretty titties.

his eyes are locked onto your breasts the entirety of your training together, and his thick and veiny boner only grows, telling you that it's necessary for him to check your heart rate afterwards, one large and scarred hand pressed flat above your sternum to check your heart rate, the other hand groping and fondling your soft breast. :( you whimper quietly at his firm grip, panting heavily after an intense ‘workout’, leaving pearly beads running down your thighs, convincing you it helps your core.

könig encourages you to shower together afterwards, so he can massage your body and make you feel much more relaxed... :3

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

[reixtsu]

⪨༒𓊈𒆜🅞🅤🅡 🅣🅐🅡🅖🅔🅣𒆜𓊉༒⪩ | 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘

You were in deep shit, the deepest shit you have ever been in. Two men from rival companies, two men who were hot as fuck, were targeting you? Someone who was known as the best assassin in Japan? Honestly in any other situation you would have been honored to be hunted down by someone. It was a nice challenge, one that you would usually be confident in winning. However this time you were scared shitless.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the golden pair, notably the two strongest and best spies in Japan if not the world. Those two-no, legends-were targeting you. It definitely wasn't helping your carefully crafted composure that you've spent years to perfect.

The bastards were relentless. They moved like ghosts, dismantling every alias, every safe house, and every backup plan you had, as if you were a mouse being chased by some ninja cats. Wherever you went, they weren't far behind. There was no room for you to catch a single breath. Besides, it wasn't just their skill that  you-it was how they played the game. Gojo's smug confidence made your skin boil as warm as the spiciest curry, while Geto's quiet, calculating precision left you feeling like a fly caught in a web.

You ducked into a shadowy alleyway, the Tokyo skyline buzzing above, blissfully unaware of the pounding of your heart as you hid as best you could. It was annoying, how you felt them closing in on you, like wolves cornering a rabbit. Except this rabbit wasn't about to roll over. Not yet.

Forcing yourself to steady your breathing, reminding yourself of the boy Toji told you to look after like a shadow. Megumi, Toji's son. His safety came first, even if it risked your own. It was your checking his whereabouts when you accidently ran into Gojo one day, and that was the first piece of information that revealed your occupation. As much as you hated it, Gojo adopted Megumi, so now he is taking care of him. Gojo was keeping him safe, and that would be all that mattered if Gojo and his bestie wasn't plotting to kill you.

Your plush lips curled into a biter smile. How poetic. Two men who could bring the world to its knees, and here I am stuck in between them, scrambling to keep my life intact.

Footsteps echoed in the distance-light, deliberate. Your heart rate spiked. You gripped the blade hidden in your coat, your instincts sharpening.

"You can't hide forever you know." A smooth, arrogant voice cut through the silence, sending chills down your spine. He was here. Gojo.

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. That cocky bastard.

"She's smarter than that, Satoru," another voice added, one that was low and velvety. And there was Geto. "Be patient. She's probably trying to plan her next move."

"Trying?" Gojo snorted. "Please. She's desperate by now. You can smell it."

The audacity, really. You couldn't help the scoff that slipped from your lips. A stupid rookie mistake for a pro like you.

"Well, well," Gojo said, his voice practically dripping with smug delight. “There's our little rabbit.”

You stepped out of the shadows, forcing yourself to smirk even as your heart thundered within your chest. They were standing just a few paces away, both of them far too calm for comfort. Gojo had his hands shoved casually in his pockets, his blink round glasses hiding his pair of sparkling blue eyes. Geto stood beside him, arms crossed and his head tilted slightly, showing his Adam's apple, his expression unreadable but no less dangerous.

"Boys," you drawled, feigning confidence you didn't feel, "if you're going to hunt me, at least make it interesting.'

Gojo grinned, one that was wide and toothy. "Oh, sweetheart, you haven't even seen anything yet."

Geto's smirk was much subtler, but it still carried a weight that made your stomach twist in discomfort. "Careful what you wish for."

You huffed, hand on your hip as you glared at them. For the first time in your life, you weren't sure if you'd make it out unscathed. But if this was how it ended, then you were going to make the most out of it.

The game was on, and your life wasn't the only one on the line.

"You always run, sweetheart," Gojo teased, his tone light but nevertheless laced with dripping poison. "When do we get to have some real have fun with you?"

You reached over and twirled the knife in your hand, keeping your stance loose and ready. "You call this fun? Sounds like someone needs a better hobby."

"Maybe you can recommend one," Geto said calmly, stepping closer, his purple eyes sharp enough to cut through you. His movements were deliberate, like a predator closing in. "Though I doubt assassins have much time for hobbies between killing and running."

"Funny," you shot back, eyes flicking between them. "You two seem to have plenty of time for playing fetch with me."

Gojo's grin only widened, but his posture shifted ever so slightly-subtle, but enough to signal that he was ready to move. Your grip on your knife tightened.

"Aw, don't flatter yourself," Gojo said,adjusting his glasses casually. "We're not chasing you because it's fun." He leaned forward ever so slightly, his voice dropping an octave, "We're chasing you because you're special."

That comment threw you off for a second. The words he said just didn't sit right, nor the way he said it. You forced your expression to remain neutral. "Touching. Did you rehearse that?"

"Why would I? I'm naturally charming."

Geto cut in, his voice as smooth as silk. "Let's not drag this out, Satoru. She's in the corner. She knows it."

Your heart pounded, begging to be freed from your chest, but your face remained unreadable. You weren't cornered. Not yet. You just needed to keep them talking, just needed more time.

"Cornered?" You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be amused. "Do you see me begging for mercy? Or are you just hoping I will?"

"You've got guts," Geto said, tilting his head just enough to have his black bang cover part of his eye. "I'll give you that. Most people would've given up by now. But we know you're not like other people."

"Neither are you both," you replied, and in one fluid motion, you threw your knife-not at them, but at the exposed pipe just above their heads.

The knife swiftly struck true, steam hissing violently from the now broken pipe, flooding the narrow alleyway with a thick, blinding fog.

"Shit-!" Gojo cursed, his voice muffled in the chaos of fog.

You didn't risk the chance to wait. You bolted, weaving through the maze of alleyways as your boots pounded against the pavement. The fog bought you a few seconds, maybe less. They were way too good at their job to be distracted for long.

Your mind raced as fast as your legs. You've played their game long enough now to know that they weren't just chasing you for fun, they said it themselves. Your suspicions connected to Megumi started to seem more and more plausible as to how Gojo found you. But with the way he looked at like-like he knew everything about you- it wasn't random.

It terrified you to your core.

As you rounded a corner, a sudden blur of motion forced you to stop short.

"Fast," Geto murmured, stepping out of the shadows as if he'd been waiting for you. His calm demeanor sent a chill down your spine. "But not fast enough."

Your eyes darted around, searching for an opening, any, but he'd chosen his stop well. Narrow alley, no easy exits.

"You're good," he said, almost like he was praising you. You would be lying if his words didn't have an effect on you. "No wonder why you're the best. But even the best slip up eventually."

"I don't slip," you shot back, trying to keep as steady as you could.

"Then you must be tired." He took another step forward, unhurried but deliberate. "You've been running for days. Dodging us, hiding. you're human, no matter how perfect you pretend to be."

"Bold words for someone who needed a partner to keep up with me, huh?" You snapped, trying to mask the unease creeping up your spine with irritation.

A low chuckle echoed behind you, and your stomach sank instantly.

"Oh, she got you there, Suguru," Gojo's voice teased as he emerged from the other end of the alley, effectively leaving you no options for escape.

You were boxed in.

Shit.

"Let's not make this harder than it has to be," Geto said, his tone soft but firm. "You've got a choice. Come with us, or..."

"Or what?" You challenged, staring at him.

Gojo shifted a little, combing his silver hair out of his face only for it to flop back down. "Or we make you."

Your pulse thundered in your ears, much to your displeasure. "You think I'm scared of you?"

Gojo shrugged nonchalantly. "You should be."

You moved before they could. Your hand desperately went to the smoke bomb in your pocket, but Geto was faster. With a flick of his wrist, a thin wire lashed out, tangling around your wrist and pulling tight. You hissed in frustration as he yanked you, rendering you off balance.

"Sloppy," he said quietly, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Persistent," you hissed under your breath, twisting your body to free your other hand. You managed to grab a second knife you had on your belt and threw it at him. He dodged, but the slight movement loosened the wire just enough for you to break free.

Gojo clapped his slender hands slowly, sarcastically. "Damn, you're fun. I almost don't want to turn you in."

Geto frowned, obviously not pleased with his partner. "Satoru-"

"What?" Gojo grinned, tilting his head toward you. "Can you blame me? She's got the whole deadly-and-gorgeous thing going on. Kind of my type, y'know?"

You flinched, Gojo's words fluttering your heart more than you'd care to admit.

"Enough," Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

You took the opportunity to leap for the nearest wall. kicking off it to gain just enough height to grab the fire escape above. Your nimble fingers grazed the cold metal, and you hoisted yourself up just as Gojo lunged for you.

"Catch y'all later," you called over your shoulder, your smirk returning back in place despite the ever pounding of your chest.

Gojo simply laughed, his voice echoing through the dark alley. "You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart!"

Neon signs of Tokyo flickered in the distance, casting an otherworldly glow on the streets below as you leapt from rooftop to rooftop. The cold air bit down on your face, but it didn't stop you from running as fast as you could. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and the weight of their words echoed in your head like a broken record.

"You've got that deadly-and-gorgeous thing going on."

"You're human, no matter how perfect you pretend to be."

Why did their voices stick to you like that? You shouldn't care, not at all! You hated how Gojo's smugness got under your skin, hated how Geto's quiet intensity lingered like a shadow. Was it because they were handsome? It didn't matter anyways. You had bigger things to worry about than two men who saw you as a challenge-or worse, a toy.

As you made your way across the rooftops, you scanned for the nearest safe house Toji told you about. Your options were dwindling; their reach was extensive, and it felt like every move you made only led you closer to their impending web.

You slowed when you reached the edge of a rooftop, crouching low as your eyes darted across the street below. The sound of footsteps brought your focus to a man walking his dog, the only other soul out at this ungodly hour. His relaxed posture, the cute wag of the dog's tail, it was normal. Normalcy. Something you couldn't afford in the life you lead.

Just as you were about to leap to the next rooftop, your eye caught movement in the reflection of a glass building across the street.

"Clever," you muttered under your breath.

A figure moved in the shadows a few rooftops back. It was Geto-his tall, lean frame unmistakably recognizable even in the dark. You cursed under your breath. How the hell had he kept up with you?

Though something was wrong. Why was he alone? Where was Gojo?

Before you could react, a voice cut through the air behind you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Looking for me?"

You whipped your head around, knife in hand, but  was already there, perched casually on the edge of the rooftop. His glasses were pushed up and resting on his head, revealing those piercing, unnaturally blue eyes that seemed to see through everything, including you.

"Damn it," you hissed, your grip tightening on the knife.

"Damn it?" Gojo repeated, grinning. "I'll take that as a compliment. People don't say that unless someone's really good."

"Don't flatter yourself." You held your tongue, desiring to curse at him.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Oh, but I'm so good at it."

"You're cornered," Geto's voice came from the shadows as he stepped forward, his ever calm demeanor as unearving as ever. "Again."

"Wow. The two of you are excellent at being a pain in the ass," you commented dryily.

"And you're good at running," Gojo countered, leaning back on his hands like he was lounging on the beach instead of hunting you down. "But you're getting predictable, sweetheart."

Predictable... Predictable? The words stung more than it should have. You prided yourself on being untouchable, on being the best, but they were starting to unravel you, but to your dismay.

"Give up," Geto said, his voice quiet yet commanding. "you're wasting energy. You know we'll find you wherever you go."

Your eyes darted between them, searching for a weakness in either of them, a distraction, anything. Though they were right. You were running out of time, and worse, you were running out of options.

"Why me?" you demanded, your voice sharp and impatient. "Why are you so obsessed with chasing me down? I might be your target, but there are others out there."

Gojo tilted his head, his smile softening ever so softly. "You're different, as we said earlier."

"That's not an answer."

Geto stepped closer, his dark purple eyes locking onto yours. "You don't need to know why. All you need to know is that we're not stopping until we get what we want."

What do they want? "And what's that?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment, heavy with tentionn. Geto didn't answer, nor did Gojo, but Gojo's grin returned, not reaching his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Gojo teased.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You wouldn't give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

"Well then," you said, taking a step back. "If you want me that badly, come and get me."

Geto didn't waste another second. He moved first, closing the distance between you with a speed that took your breath away. You barely had any time to react, raising your knife to swiftly block his strike.

The impact sent a jolt up your arm. Gritting your teeth, you pushed back against his strength. Just before you  could counter, Gojo was right behind you, his presence like a sadistic ghost at your back.

"Careful," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt, yeah?"

You spun around as fast as you could, lashing out your knife, but he was already gone, his laugh echoing around you.

You were out of breath. The relentless pursuit across the city left you drained. They'd forced you into a corner, their presence closing in on all sides. You crouched low on the rooftop, your knife glinting under the pale moonlight.

They're not playing anymore. You could feel it in the air-the shift in their tactics, the weight of their presence pressing down on you like a vice. They weren't going to let you run this time around. 

A faint sound behind you, a sharp intake of breath. You twisted on instinct, launching a knife toward the sound. It sliced through the air, aimed with precision, but Gojo caught it mid-flight, his fingers wrapping around the blade as if it were a child's toy.

"Come onn, sweetheart," Gojo fiend whining, tossing the knie aside like it was nothing. "You're not even trying anymore. Getting tired?"

You didn't answer, deciding to ignore him. Instead, you aimed for his ribs. But as you closed the distance, Geto stepped in a flash.

"No more running," Geto said, his voice firm. "This ends now."

"Didn't know you two were so desperate for attention," you spat, pivoting sharply to avoid geto's strike while aiming another at Gojo. He dodged with ease, leaning back with a grin as your blade passed a hair's breadth from his chest.

"We're desperate for you," Goji said smoothly, words rolling off his tongue with infuriating ease. His blue eyes gleamed with something dangerous "And you love it, don't you?"

"You're delusional as shit," you snapped, blocking a strike from Geto's punch and countering with a high kick aimed at his shoulder. He caught your leg mid-air, forcing you to twist and land in a crouch as he released you.

"I think you're the one who's delusional," Geto replied coldly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You think you can keep going like this? Fighting us? Outrunning us? It's only a matter of time before you give in?"

"I'd rather die before I give in to either of you, bitch," you growled, pushing off the ground and aiming a flurry of strikes at both of them.

For a moment, it felt like you were holding your own. Knife against fist. They moved with a kind of synchronicity that made them impossible to predict, but you kept pushing, kept fighting, refusing to let them overwhelm you.

But then it happened-a misstep.

You swung your blade a little too wide, and Gojo caught your wrist in a vice-grip. His other hand shot forward, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around just as Geto's fist struck down in an arc. The blunt force struck the back of your knee, and you crumpled down, forced to the ground with Gojo still holding your wrist like a prisoner.

"Let go!" you snarled, struggling against his grip. But he didn't. He simply knelt beside you, his breath brushing against your ear as he gazed down at you with unreadable eyes.

"Not until you're obedient," he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing enough to make you fall for him. "You're not getting out of this. So why not make it easy on yourself?"

You glared up at him, craning your neck as best you could, your chest heaving with exertion. "Easy for you, you mean. What the hell do you want from me?"

"Everything," Geto answered, stepping in front of you and crouching so that you were eye level. His eyes were dark and unreadable, his Adam's apple so out, his sharp body a shape that any woman would growl over. "We want to know why you're so damn good at what you do. Who trained you? Why do you keep running? And why are you so hell-bent on protecting that boy?"

Your blood ran cold as soon as the mention of Megumi left his lips, but you didn't let it show. "What boy?" you asked, feigning confusion.

"Come on! Don't play dumb," Gojo, tightening his grip on your wrist. "We've been watching you. You're not just some assassin. You've got connections-dangerous ones. But you seem to have a soft spot. The kid's important to you, isn't he? Is it because of personal reasons or is it because your boss told you so?"

You clenched your teeth, refusing to respond. Every second of silence felt like a battle, their eyes boring down on you as if they could extract the truth by sheer willpower.

"Fine," Gojo said after a moment of silence, his tone light but laced with steel. "Don't want to talk? Then we'll just keep you here until you do."

"You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm staying," you shot back, twisting sharply to free yourself from Gojo's grasp. Though before you could stand, Geto was behind you, his arm locking around your shoulders and pinning you in place.

"Stay down," Geto murmured, his breath warm against your neck. "You've lost."

"I haven't lost shit," you hissed, struggling against him, but his hold was ever so unyielding, and you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body screamed in protest as you fought to break free.

Gojo crouched in front of you, his face so close you could see a faint scar above his brow. He tilted his hair, his pretty eyes scanning yours with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something you couldn't quite pin down.

"You're stubborn," he said, almost fondly. "I like that about you."

"You don't know a damn thing about me."

"Maybe not," Gojo admitted, his grin softening into something more sincere. "But I'd like to. And I think Suguru here would too."

You froze at his words, your mind racing. They weren't just chasing you for answers. This seemed personal, and that scared you more than anything. You clenched your teeth, staring at the two men before you. 

"You've got no idea how much trouble you're in, sweetheart," Gojo said with mock sympathy. He tilted his head, silver hair catching the neon lights of the city. "But, hey, if it's any consolation, I think you look great even when you're all out of breath."

Your scowl deepened, and you yanked your arm once again away from his grasp. "You're insufferable."

"Insufferable handsome?" Gojo quipped with a  wink, leaning closer. "I get that a lot, thanks."

"Or maybe just insufferably annoying," Geto said, his tone dry but with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Not that it's anything new."

"Aw, Suguru, don't be jealous," Gojo teased, throwing him a grin. "There's plenty of me to go around."

You groaned, confusion and irritation blooming. "You two are ridiculous. First you chase me down like some sort of mouse, all for a conversation? I don't know how anyone can take you seriously."

"People tend to take us very seriously when we're chasing them across rooftops," Geto countered, his calm, velvety voice laced with amusement. "Though I have to admit, you're making this chase far more interesting than most."

"Ha," you snapped, shifting slightly, testing the tension in your muscles as you calculated your next move. You were tired, but you weren't going down without a fight.

"Oh, don't pretend you haven't been entertained too," Gojo said, his grin widening. "Admit it-you've been having fun." He said in a sing-song tone.

"Fun?" you repeated incredulously, glaring at him in disgust. "You two have been hunting me like some sport. What about that sounds like fun?"

"Because you're the first person who's ever made us work this hard. Most people give up the moment they realize who they're dealing with," Geto replied. "But you... you keep fighting. It's impressive."

"Compliments. Oh, how thrilled I am," you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Gojo. "It's exhausting."

"Poor thing," Gojo cooed mockingly, leaning down close enough that you swear his lips had to be centimeters away from your neck. "All worn out from running? If you surrender, I promise I'll carry you home, bridal style, if you're into that." That infuriating wink.

"Shut," you hissed, trying to pull away from him, but his hand shot out, his fingers grazing your chin to tilt your face toward him.

"Such fire," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. His usual playful tone was now gone, replaced with something softer, intense,  something that caused your stomach to flip. "You're cute."

"Satoru," Geto interrupted once again, his voice cutting through the moment. He reached out, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to your feet. You stumbled slightly, but his hand landed on the small of your back, easily keeping you steady. "We've wasted enough time. Let's go."

"Go?" you repeated, bristling like an irritated cat. "Where the hell do you think you're taking me?"

"Our place," Gojo said, standing and dusting off his pants like this was all completely normal. "Don't worry, we've got comfy couches. You can even have a blanket if you're nice."

You narrowed your eyes at him, glaring. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

“Do you really think you’re in a position to argue?” Geto’s voice was soft, almost deceptively calm, but the steel beneath it sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers tightened on your arm, pulling you closer with effortless strength, until the heat of his body radiated against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours, sharp and unyielding, as though daring you to defy him. “You’re out of options, and we both know it.”

The words cut through you like a blade. You hated how true they were. Every fiber of your being screamed to resist, to claw and fight your way out of this—but your limbs felt heavy, your breath uneven, and they both saw right through the mask of defiance you were struggling to keep intact.

Gojo crouched next to you, impossibly close, his ever-present grin softening into something almost predatory. His crystalline blue eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of amusement and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. “Don’t think of it as giving up,” he purred, his voice low, like a silk ribbon wrapping around your throat. “Think of it as… a tactical retreat. Or, if it helps, you can call it a hostage situation. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”

Your jaw clenched, your glare cutting toward him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” Gojo shot back, his grin widening, the playful lilt in his voice sending your pulse racing in frustration—and something else you didn’t dare acknowledge. “Seriously, has anyone ever told you that anger suits you? It’s cute.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but the venom in your tone was undermined by the way your voice wavered. You hated how his words crawled under your skin, leaving behind a trail of heat you couldn’t ignore.

Before you could pull away, Geto’s hand shifted, his long fingers catching your chin and tilting your face upward, forcing your gaze to meet his. His touch was firm but surprisingly gentle, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Enough games, Satoru,” he said, his deep voice steady but edged with something almost possessive. His eyes locked on yours, darker than the night around you, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking right through you—peeling back every layer, exposing everything you tried to hide.

But he didn’t move away. Instead, his gaze lingered, and in that moment, something in his expression shifted. The sharpness softened, replaced by a flicker of intrigue, of something far more dangerous. It made your breath hitch, your pulse stuttering in your chest as the seconds stretched endlessly.

And then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in.

The kiss wasn’t what you expected—not demanding, not harsh. It was barely a kiss at all, just the lightest brush of his lips against the corner of your mouth. But it was enough to leave you stunned, your mind blanking as warmth bloomed where his lips had touched. Enough to leave your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

“Call that motivation,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, his breath ghosting over your skin. There was an almost smug curve to his lips as he pulled back, his dark eyes unreadable. “Now, let’s go.”

You didn’t have time to process the shock flooding your system before Gojo let out a low whistle, his grin downright sinful. “Suguru, you dog. You can’t just kiss her and act like that’s normal.” He stood in one fluid motion, towering over you, and his gaze flicked to you with a teasing glint. “Now I have to do something, or it’ll look like you’re showing me up.”

Before you could snap at him—or even catch your breath-Gojo leaned down, his hand brushing against your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. His grin was still there, but his eyes were sharp now, intense in a way that made your stomach twist.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he whispered, his voice low, almost tender. And then he kissed you–softly, lingering just long enough to leave you reeling. His lips were warm and maddeningly gentle, the faintest trace of something sweet lingering behind.

When he pulled away, his grin returned, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Now we’re even,” he said lightly, though the weight of his stare told you there was nothing casual about what had just happened.

You sat there, frozen, your mind spinning as the two men straightened and exchanged a glance-something unspoken passing between them. You hated how they seemed to be in perfect sync, how they could take apart your defenses so effortlessly.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Gojo said, offering you his hand, his grin teasing but his tone carrying an edge of finality. “We’re taking you home.”

“Home?” you echoed, your voice faint, barely able to process the word.

“Our home,” Geto corrected, his voice steady and commanding. He stepped behind you, his hand brushing against your lower back, urging you to your feet. “And I’d suggest you don’t try anything stupid. You’re smart enough to know how that’ll end.”

Your legs felt like jelly, but you forced yourself to stand, glaring at both of them even as your resolve wavered. “I hate you both,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was the truth.

Gojo chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulders like this was all some kind of game. “Aw, you’ll love us soon enough,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “Everyone does.”

As they began leading you away, you couldn’t stop the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest-anger, frustration, confusion… and something far more dangerous that you weren’t ready to name.

And despite yourself, you couldn’t shake the warmth lingering on your lips, or the terrifying realization that this was far from over.

——

The drive to their place was silent, the tension floating in the air was palpable. You sat in the backseat of the sleek black car, sandwiched between the two handsome men. The proximity was stifling, their presence too overwhelming, and the warmth radiating from their bodies only made the situation worse. Gojo was as relaxed as ever, one arm draped lazily along the back of the seat behind you while Geto sat with perfect posture, his sharp eyes occasionally glancing your way. Part of you was curious to know how two polar opposite men could work so well in a team together. Perhaps the saying 'opposites attract' was true.

When they pulled into the driveway of their house, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight. The property was secluded, surrounded by tall trees and hidden away from prying eyes. The house itself was modern and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a sprawling front yard that screamed wealth and power. 

Part of you had an intuition that Gojo owned multiple homes while you were keeping an eye on Megumi, but you never guessed he would own a house this gorgeous.

"You two live here?" you asked, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice. Despite working alongside Toji, you weren't as poor as him since you knew how to manage your money. You were comfortable, but obviously not as comfortable as either of them. Damn.

"Of course," Gojo said, grinning as he slid out of the car and opened your door with an exaggerated bow. "Only the best for the best."

Geto rolled his eyes as he stepped out and gestured for you to follow. "Ignore him. He loves showing off.'

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. Running definitely wasn't one of them, you exhausted that option, so with a resigned sigh, you followed them inside.

The interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The open floor plan showcased sleek furniture, expensive artwork, and a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a high-end restaurant. It was annoyingly perfect, just like Gojo and Geto. How irritating.

Geto led you to the living room and gestured for you to sit on the plush couch with a strong, veiny hand. "You'll be staying here for now," he said, his voice calm and measured. "We have to keep an eye on you as we investigate you for a bit. Know who exactly you are, your motives, and why you are tasked with keeping an eye on the boy Satoru adopted. You'll have everything you need, and no one will find you."

"Generous of you," you muttered, crossing your arms as you sat down with a huff. Perfect. You didn't think to send a help call to Toji while you were fighting them, and now you were going to disappear for a bit. You'll get quite the scolding when you see Toji again.

Geto's lips twitched into a faint smile while he observed your irritation. "It's the least he can do after chasing you halfway across the city."

"Ah, don't listen to him, sweetheart," Gojo interjected, flopping down on the couch beside you, on the same cushion, his long legs sprawled out. "We both know you loved the attention. Admit it-you've never had this much fun before."

You clicked your tongue, shooting him your signature glare. "You're insufferable."

"And you're adorable when you're annoyed," Gojo quipped back, leaning closer. His voice melted into a playful whisper, his breath brushing against your ear, causing a shiver down your spine. "Admit it-you kind of like me, don't you? It wasn't just Megumi who you were keeping an eye on, eh?"

"Satoru," Geto said sharply, his tone a warning.

"What?" Gojo shrugged, pulling back just enough to flash his partner a grin. "I'm just breaking the ice."

Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might actually snap from his partner's antics. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening. "I meant what I said earlier. We're sorry for chasing you. It wasn't personal-it was a job."

You blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "You have quite the fun of showing it," you muttered, those the venom in your tone had dampened.

Geto's lips curled into a small smile, one that was genuine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "you're impressive," he said in his deep, velvety tone, his dark eyes locking into yours. "More than I expected. that's why you're still alive, by the way."

Before you could even respond, Gojo let out a low chuckle. "Wow, Suguru, way to charm her. Nothing says 'I'm into you' like, 'You should be dead, but you're not.'"

geto's gaze flicked to Gojo, his smile fading slightly. "And your approach is better?"

Gojo simply grinned, undeterred. "Absolutely. Watch and learn."

Huh?

He turned back to you, his hand suddenly brushing against yours where it rested on your plush thighs. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt through you nevertheless. "We must make a good team, right? I mean, we caught you, Japan's best assassin. That's gotta count for something."

You rolled your eyes, trying your best to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity to your thigh. "Congrats. Do you want a medal?"

"I'd settle for a kiss," Gojo said, winking.

"Don't push your luck," you shot back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed a faint twitch upward.

geto's eyes darkened as he watched the exchange, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He leaned back, his arms draping casually over the back of the couch next to you, but there was nothing casual about the way his gaze lingered on you, capturing every curve your body had to offer.

"So what's it going to be?" Geto asked, his voice low and smooth, just for you to hear. "Are you going to keep pretending you're not enjoying this, or are you finally going to admit that you don't hate us as much as you'd like to?"

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as Geto shifted closer. His presence was magnetic, and the intensity in his eyes made it hard to look away.

Gojo, never one who wants to be outdone, mirrored his partner's movement, leaning in on your other side. "Careful, Suguru," he said, his tone playful yet carrying a sharp edge to it. "you're starting to sound possessive to the sweetie here."

Geto smirked, his gaze flicking briefly to Gojo before returning to you. "Maybe I am. Who knows?"

The air between the three of you grew heavy, charged with an unspoken challenge. As much as you hated to admit it, the thought of being caught between these two beans was becoming harder and harder to resist with each passing heartbeat. 

"So, what now?" you asked, cursing to yourself at how quiet your voice was, waiting in hidden anticipation.

"Now," Geto said, his hand brushing against yours with deliberate slowness, "we make sure you understand just how serious we are."

 Gojo's grin turned wicked, and he leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning against your cheek. "And maybe, just maybe, you'll realize you're better off with us than against us, especially when you work for Toji."

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. Of course they knew who you worked for. They were probably feigning ignorance when they pestered you with all of those previous questions. 

Gojo's lips were a whisper away from yours, hot breath trickling against your skin. His hand curled under your jaw, tilting your face upward as his thumb brushed along your lower lip.  Your body betrayed you, leaning instinctively into his touch, but a dark chuckle from Geto pulled your attention back to him. His hand slid deliberately from your hip to your waist, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"You shouldn't let him have all the fun, you know," Geto said, his voice smooth and velvety, vibrating against your neck as he leaned in just as close as Gojo was. His lips grazed your skin, just below your ear, leaving the faintest of kisses. "He tends to get greedy."

"And you don't?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your heart pounded within your chest.

Geto smirked against your skin, his breath hot against yours. "Maybe, but I've always been better at sharing."

Gojo's grin widened at that, a flash of mischief in his blue eyes. "She's not wrong, Suguru~. You can get pretty greedy-just in quieter ways." The way everything felt, how they touched you, how their gaze lingered a little longer than it should. It made you feel a certain way, a feeling that you couldn't bury even if you tried-not when you were sandwiched between two hot men who captured you.

You want them. No, you need them. holding back and pretending was just too much for you to bear anymore.

Gojo's gaze lingered on your soft lips, admiring them, and a female of lust burned deeply within him. His lips finally claimed yours the second time that night, soft at first, then pressing harder as his confidence grew. His kiss was beautifully dizzying, a mix of passion and playfulness that left you breathless.

Before you could wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed closer to you, before you could lose yourself entirely to him, Geto tugged you back, his fingers brushing along your jawline as he forced you to lock eyes with his sharp gaze. His eyes burned with intensity, darker and more calculated lust than Gojo's wild energy. "Don't forget about me," he muttered before his lips captured yours.

"Hey! Suguru!" came Gojo's whiney voice as he clung onto the dip of your hips, his thumb making soothing circles as your lips were getting devoured by his partner.

Geto's kiss was different-slower, deeper, more deliberate. The way his hand slid up made it clear he wasn't in any sort of rush. his thumb stroked the side of your throat, eliciting a quiet gasp that only turned him on, causing a throaty groan to escape only to be muffled by your lips.

When you pulled back, your lips tingling and your breath uneven, you were beginning to be acutely aware of both men-the way Gojo's slender fingers trailing along the hem of your shirt, Geto's veiny still resting firmly against your throat, squeezing it just enough. Their touches were possessive yet teasing, as if silently daring you to take the lead.

You tried every bit of your fiber to resist them, but you were far too deep in the rabbit hole to back out now. You bit your lip, a soft whimper slipping past as Gojo tugged your shirt a little higher, revealing your bra. With dancing fingers, he unhooked it and let his hand teasingly roam across your boobs, while Geto's mouth pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Don't keep us waiting, sweetheart," Gojo murmured, his voice thick with desire as his tongue flicked your already hard nipples. "Tell us what you want.”

Part 2 when??? If you want one, ask in the comments