#lilies are nice but they smell to strong for me

[pigeon-wizard]

What's your favourite flower? Or plant. Or both

- @deedra-posting

i'm not a big plant person but i do like Hibiscus' a lot because of Hau lol. i also like mint (very yummy) and pine trees (there are a lot where i live and they are very cool)

[ginevrapng]

the first time james saw you he lost interest in any other girl, you just looked so soft, so adorable. he wanted to keep you all to himself, away from prying eyes. before you he would tell people he doesn't have a type because before you he didn't, now though, well it's a different story, he just wants to wrap his arms around your plush waist and never let you go. he would gladly die between your thick thighs, buried between them.

one day you came into class and he figures that you must have run out of clothes to wear so you had to wear some of your old ones and that may have been one of the happiest days in his life. your shirt too tight and your skirt too short. he could see how the fabric and buttons of the shirt was struggling to stay covering your chest and your skirt short enough that james could see light stretch marks covering your skin, but also long enough to not cause a scene. no one else took notice of your attire that day, but james did. he couldn't help it, and he swears he tried to look away but he just couldn't, you're just so beautiful. he felt like a creep but he couldn't pay attention to anything else, he wanted to delicately trace your stretch marks with his fingertips. he wanted to do things that he'd never say out loud.

james wants to pull you down into his lap while he see's you making your way to your own table in the great hall. he wants to feel your body pressed against his and smell your sweet perfume. he knows you'd complain about being too heavy, he's overheard you mention it before, about how you think you're too heavy to get picked up or be on top of someone. james wants to impress you, to show you that he can, because of course he can pick you up and of course you're not too heavy for him, you're perfect the way you are and he's strong enough to lift anything and everything. he'd carry you with one hand all the way up a mountain if it would impress you and get you to notice him.

he wants to pinch your chubby cheeks and wants to kiss your forehead. he wants you.

his friends obviously notice this new attraction james has towards this girl but chosen not to mention, that is until he started to constantly bring you up and gushes to them about how perfect and cute you are. this getting very mixed reviews from his friends, lily having pity for you, aware of how he gets when he likes someone, sirius constantly teasing him about you, mary saying how nice you sounded, remus seemed mostly indifferent to the whole thing, marlene telling him to make a move. if james was honest he didn't take much notice of the teasing or the annoyance that they had because he kept bringing you up, he just needed to tell everyone about how amazing you are.

james knows how to pine after a girl and god does he do exactly that and he makes that very known to you. at first you were wary and skeptical of this sudden attention the famous gryffindor quidditch captain bestowed on you, he was one of the most popular students in hogwarts but after a while james broke down your walls with his charming smile and his acts of kindness, walking you to classes and pulling pranks on anyone who says nasty comments about you weight.

soon enough you end up in wrapped in red and gold on your way to support him in a match, his scarf keeping you warm from the harsh weather. after his win you end up running into his arms, congratulating him as he spins you around, you complain that he's sweaty, causing him to chuckle.

cupping your cheek, he lowers his voice and whispers to you, "you're my good luck charm, 'course i won." your face heats up and you shyly smile up at him. "what would i do without my good luck charm. you wanna be m' good luck charm always doll? wanna be mine?" he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, leaning in even closer, " 'cause i'm already yours. no one else for me doll." soon enough you accept to be his girlfriend, on the condition that he takes a shower straight away.

[katsu28]

can I request “Baby’s Breath - a wholesome moment” with our favorite grump remus? maybe just some domestic fluff?

i've been delving deeper into my marauders phase lately so thank you so much for this request <3 he's not too much of a grump in this one but i can give u soft bf remus today i hope that's okay

remus lupin x reader, 1k, fluff fluff and more fluff

Remus never thought he’d ever have a life like he had now. He’d always thought he was destined to live a life of solitude, a life where nothing good and nothing pure ever dared come his way. Sure, he had his best mates and they were more than he could ever ask for, but he wanted…more.

He always felt a tiny gnaw in his gut thinking about Lily and James, Marlene and Dorcas—they were happy, they were as infatuated with each other as the day they met. He didn’t resent them, he wasn’t jealous of them, but he wanted what they had. He wanted a love as strong as theirs with someone of his own. 

Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have something like that. 

Then you came along, and you were good and pure and about a hundred other things Remus adored. You were kind and caring and made his heart thump a little faster and a little harder against his ribcage. It took a bit of time for him to fully let you in, to fully trust you with everything he had, but you were patient with him. 

From there, being with you was something straight out of his fantasies. You had your ups and downs like every healthy couple, but you always talked it out like the mature young adults you were and made up quick.

He now understood what it felt like to love someone more than life itself, to love another person so much that he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.

Fast forward to present day, you and Remus had recently moved in with each other. It was nothing special, just a small flat in central London—but it was special to Remus. It was where you’d begun the rest of your life together only a few months ago, tiny (some would call it cramped, but you and Remus didn't think so) and a little bit weathered, but it was yours. It was home. 

There were still a few half unpacked boxes laying around, but for the most part you’d settled in nicely. With that new home came a new routine too, with Remus juggling his jobs at the old secondhand bookshop down the road and handling the finances at Sirius’s auto garage. He came home late sometimes, exhausted and smelling of motor oil despite being cooped up in the back office all day. 

“Rem!” You greeted him happily like you always when he stepped through the door, making your way over to where he was hanging his scarf on the coat hooks to hug him tightly.

It was always the highlight of his day, getting to come to you. His bones ached and he felt sticky and grimy, but then you kissed him and it suddenly didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world. 

“Hi, love,” He replied softly, sinking into your embrace with closed eyes.  

Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching gentle circles that had him melting just a little bit more. “How was your day?” 

“Same as always. Paperwork, paperwork, more paperwork.” He pulled away from you, lacing his fingers through yours to tug you along behind him into the kitchen. “James brought by some Peruvian takeaway for lunch though, really good stuff—we should try it one day, I think you’d like it.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Lily rang earlier, asked if we had any time tomorrow to pop by theirs for something? She wouldn’t say what but I think she’s pregnant.” 

Remus chuckled, amused. “What makes you say that?” 

“Sirius said he could smell something different about her.” 

“And you trusted him? He’s a knob.” 

“He’s your best friend.” 

“Still a knob.” He replied, pulling open the cupboard to grab a mug. “Tea?” He grabbed another one at your eager nod, busying himself with filling the kettle and setting it on the stove to boil. 

You’d moved to the countertop in the meantime, socked feet swinging, thumping against the cupboards below with each movement. You were smiling warmly at him when he turned back to face you, watching him shuffle around the tiny kitchen like you’d never seen anything more interesting. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He arched a brow at you. “Nothing, I’m just…really happy. Here. With you. In our own home.” 

Remus brightened noticeably, coming over to run a light hand down your arm until your fingers were intertwined. He brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “It’s nice, innit?” 

“Everything’s nice with you.” You were quite aware of how sappy you sounded, but it was true. Just existing in the same space as Remus, sharing a space with him, was so lovely and comforting and everything you'd ever wanted. You traced along the scar bridging his nose, following it down his cheek until your arms found their home looped around his neck and you pulled him in even closer, kissing him softly. 

He wasted no time kissing you back. He never did. Remus loved kissing you more than he loved a lot of things in this world, and he made sure you knew it with every single one. 

Somewhere in the background you heard the kettle whistling over on the stove, but you didn’t really feel the need to pay it any mind. Not when he was kissing you like this, like he wanted to get lost in your touch, like he always did. It wasn’t until it started to annoy you that you splayed your palms against the soft wool of his jumper. 

“You better get the kettle before it boils over.” You murmured against his mouth, barely giving him an inch of space between the two of you. 

Letting out a gentle huff, Remus fumbled for his wand in the pocket of his trousers, pulling it out and mumbling an incantation under his breath with the flick of his wrist. The kettle fell silent. “Right, now where were we?” 

“Pretty sure your mouth was on mine.” 

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget?”

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[ravenshavenn]

Why I think Snape is autistic

(as someone with autism and who also has other family members and friends on the spectrum)

(I don't want to generalise these are purely my observations and I hope I worded everything correctly, this is just my lil hyper-fixation dump meant for fun an not to be taken too seriously)

Firstly, Severus is always seen in his trademark long, dark robes which could be a way to cope with sensitivity to certain textures as he has clearly found something that works for him and he knows he likes, so why should he have to wear anything else?

He also keeps his hair long which could also be another sensory comfort for him as tying it up can keep it very far away from his face which short hair doesn't provide quite as well (from personal experience) or leaving it loose can create a nice feeling on a persons face or neck that some people with autism find comforting

Obviously Snape's favourite things are the dark arts and potions and he shows a deep knowledge of these subjects throughout the books and movies alike therefore these could be seen as special interests considering the amount of time and energy Severus puts into them

He's also shown to have a vast collection of various potion ingredients in jars and knows straight away that something is missing when Harry takes the Gillyweed

Severus also stims in potentially unnoticeable ways such as constantly fiddling with his hands, having his hands behind his back to clasp them together and picking apart leaves as a child

Social gatherings are clearly something that Severus finds difficult as he's not often seen at any besides supposedly mandatory events such as the Yule ball which could be because he finds them overstimulating from the noise, crowds, smells, lights, etc

Another potentially overstimulating thing for Severus could be light as he spends his time in the dungeons which aren't well lit and in other scenes where there is bright lights he immediately shuts them off such as when he takes over Lupin's defence against the dark arts lesson and also again in the prisoner of Azkaban a portrait asks him to put out his luminous spell and he complies as he walks away meaning he's just walking in the dark?! (Which is a total vibe tbh)

He's always been depicted as "strange", "wierd" or "lonely" as from his childhood Lily is his only friend and the vast majority of other characters seem to find him off putting and can't actually specify why they don't like him "the fact that he exists" but he's not shown to make much effort to expand his social circle so it seems as though he's either content with the situation or has given up on it

There is a lac of understanding shown for other peoples emotions throughout the books and movies alike for example the perceived "rudeness" towards students could definitely be a result of depression or something else but it could also be that he doesn't fully understand the impact that he has on them

Severus also experiences the "flat effect" which is when someone displays little to no facial expression, this is a trait that can be seen in autism, this is emphasised in the movies in particular but Severus in the books is also said to not show much emotion unless he's feeling incredibly extreme emotions "Don't call me a coward" for example is one of his infamous more emotional scenes but for the majority of the time his expressions aren't depicted in great detail or he simply isn't displaying any

Along with this he also has a fairly monotone voice, besides when he's extremely upset which again is a trait displayed by those on the autism spectrum

He doesn't seem to understand social rules particularly well for example he's unsure of how to communicate to Lily that she's a witch and accidentally ends up scaring her, not fully grasping that 11 year olds can't do everything he can regarding potions and becoming easily frustrated by them

Severus also clearly has a very strong sense of justice that he's willing to do almost anything to ensure is carried out such as spying for as long as he did which was definitely partly motivated by Lily but also (or I like to think) his intense black and white vision of right and wrong which Voldemort crossed when Severus fully understood everything that the death eaters stood for when they began hunting down Lily

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

hm...... your posts abt abo hsr made me wonder what all the characters' scents are like and what kind of scents they'd all prefer their partners to have.. i wanna hear your thoughts on this :3c

Are you a mind reader? Cause I was just about to get started writing about this! Great minds think a like :D

CW: Omegaverse

Blade's scent is smokey like charcoal with a metallic hint, this is something that hasn't changed since his previous life though there's a floral hint to it that wasn't there before.

As for what scent he'd prefer for his partner to have something light and relaxing like chamomile or lavender would be nice. Something that naturally relaxes the body when exposed to it.

Jing Yuan smells like something warm like ginger and tea. It's something that brings comfort to a lot of people though the sharpness of ginger can become strong enough to overwhelm when stressed. I think he's partial to sweet smelling fruit or honey, that's probably why he nips them so much it makes him "hungry".

Welt smells like fresh pine and firewood. It's a comforting scent that many on the express know to follow if they're feeling upset or seeking guidance. I don't think he has a scent he'd enjoy more than the other though he might prefer floral scents as well.

Luocha smells like lilies unsurprising I know. Because of this he's often mistaken for an omega because of his floral scent but upon second...sniff? You'll get the stronger scent of sage and herbs. Prefers a complimenting floral scent from his partner as it'd blend well together though I think he'd enjoy the scent of sweet fruits as well.

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ Star Rail Men and What They Smell Like ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

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Character(s): Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Veritas Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard Landau, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo Koski, Sunday, Welt Yang (Honkai Star Rail)         Warning(s): Nothing!        Genre: Headcanons        Word Count: ~560 words        Author’s Note: I’ve been really into Honkai Star Rail lately and, since I will be writing for the fandom from here on out, I thought my first post for it would just be some simple headcanons on what some of the characters smell like! I tried to keep what I think the characters would smell like as canon-compliant as possible; I also wanted to do this since it may be helpful for me to reference in the future when I write for them haha. It’s nothing too complex as I haven’t had the time for that as of late, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! Also, this was written pre-release of Aventurine, Boothill, and Sunday, but I don’t think their releases will change these headcanons.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Argenti: He smells like a freshly plucked bouquet of roses and honey with an underlying scent of iron because of his armor. Everywhere he goes, he leaves behind a floral scent with a tinge of sweetness.

Aventurine: Aventurine smells like a very expensive and very strong cologne – a cologne that is almost a bit too overpowering with how much of it he puts on.

Blade: Sorry Blade lovers, but this man probably smells like a mixture of sweat and blood. However, I’ll be nice and say he has the soft and somewhat sweet scent of spider lilies on his clothing and in his hair.

Boothill: Metal, oil, and gunpowder – I imagine him smelling very much like a mechanic’s workshop. He smells like how a lot of men’s bodywashes are advertised to be.

Caelus: Trash… Honestly, though, I can’t really see (or rather smell) Caelus having any kind of specific scent to him. He probably just smells like a natural musk or perhaps even a mixture of the rest of the Astral Express Crew’s scents, all of them intermingling in a very faint and very all-over-the-place cocktail of smells.

Dan Heng: Dan Heng smells kind of like the pages of an old book and a crisp, refreshing ocean breeze. He smells very relaxing and somewhat nostalgic, and his scent is very calming to be surrounded by.

Veritas Ratio: Ratio smells like unscented soap, so he has a very clean and fresh scent to him at all times considering how much he bathes. I also like to think he smells a bit like chalk with how much of it he carries around.  

Gallagher: Smells like a mixture of alcohol and natural musk with a tinge of smokiness. He works at a bar and, considering he carries around a lighter, I imagine him to be a smoker as well.

Gepard: Gepard wears a very light and very basic cologne, so nothing too overpowering or statement-making; it does smell a bit generic, though. I also think he would have a slight scent of iron to him as well due to his armor.

Jing Yuan: Smells like a fresh cup of fruity green tea with a weak node of mint. Jing Yuan is a fairly lazy man who doesn’t put in much effort where it isn’t needed, but I think he would enjoy aromatherapy so he likes wearing perfumes and colognes that he thoroughly enjoys.

Luocha: I think Luocha would smell somewhat earthy with nodes of floral and wood-like scents. I also think he would carry around the smell of death, but not necessarily a bad one; he smells more akin to a funeral home.  

Sampo: Much like Caelus, I don’t think Sampo would smell like much of anything. He sneaks around quite a bit and probably wouldn’t want his scent alerting anyone, so he has a natural smell to him with a light underlying node of pine.

Sunday: Has a very faint scent of lavender to him that could be easily missed if not around him for long. I imagine he isn’t fond of strong scents, so he usually picks something that makes him smell pleasing without being too overwhelming for himself or others.

Welt: I imagine Welt smelling like a strong, freshly brewed cup of coffee with nodes of citrus or vanilla. The underlying scent is never enough to overpower the smell of coffee he has on him, though.

[bahbah-bee]

- Tiger Lily - (Yandere! Namjoon x Reader) - Part 1

Warnings: Slight ABO, smut/noncon (not this part), kidnapping, innuendos, harassment, gaslighting, drugs, forced undressing, nonconsensual touching, slavery/forced prostitution, dark themes. You have been warned.

Summary: To be a flower maiden is to know pain. Pain that comes many forms. It's too bad for you that your curse is not well known, and running from the only man who knows about it, won't do you much good. Run while you can... for when he catches you, there's no telling how he'll ravage you.

Note: I have no idea what time line I wrote this for lol. I’m also thinking of making this a series with the other members, so if you like it, please let me know! This is inspired by the Yuri Manwha Kang Unnie.

Your clothes had always smelled of smoke.

Not because you enjoyed the bad habit, but because as you grew older smoke was the only thing able to cover the scent. The scent of the Tiger Lily. The scent ranged from cigarettes, to old incense, to burnt ash from the fireplace. Your parents never took chances when it came to you. Fear always glimmered in their eyes; Fear that their only child would get taken away to be a noble's toy, never to be seen again.

It was a bright summer day, when you first interacted with Namjoon. With no idea as to who he was, he was the first person to see past the smoke.

You wished you had been more careful; More cautious as to who you interacted with. But the Tiger Lily came with a curse. And it was naïve of you to believe you could escape the curse.

"Are you alright?"

It took a moment for you to realize that a young gentleman had bumped into you. The arms that had wrapped around your own, allowed for a more stable support. Strong muscles hardened over time, with scars easily noticeable underneath long sleeves.

It was the first thing you noticed about him. Second, were his eyes. They gleamed mahogany and dared those that didn't know him to lean in a bit closer. You wanted to lean in closer. Sadly, you did not have that luxury. Especially, when that very same man was apologizing for falling into your lap and ruffling your skirts.

"I really am so clumsy." He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. "It is not gentlemanly to be falling into a young ladies lap."

He grabbed your right hand and kissed it, looking into your own eyes. Maintaining eye contact, he raised himself up before looking around. You had been sitting at a nearby fountain with a book in one hand, when he had stumbled upon you. It was a common habit of yours, when taking a break from the old apothecary your parents ran. It was a nice place to take a rest from the outside world; a place where no one had to worry about greedy individuals in the dark. Your own refuge.

It was when you had been in the middle of a kissing scene, that you heard a scuffle occurring nearby. The strange man had been perusing the shops nearby, when someone had ran into his shoulder, and shoved him to the cobblestone at your feet. In the process of catching himself from the fall, he had managed to face plant into your colorful skirts.

"It's quite alright sir." You giggled. "I'm just glad you are not hurt. Some of the people around here can be quite rude." He smiled at that before tilting his head.

"Still, it was not appropriate of me. Though I am curious, you smoke ma'am?"

No one had asked it outright as forthcoming as that in the past.

"Why no-" you chuckled "my parents just enjoy it, and who I am I to judge them for the habit."

There was a hum from his side, before he bowed before you. "Well, my lady, it was lovely meeting you, albeit in the wrong circumstances." He looked over at someone that was approaching quickly. They seemed to be in servant attire. A large tailcoat and white cuffs clipped at the wrist. Peculiar for a small town like yours.

"You really shouldn't run off like that -"

He shook his head at the man approaching. They shut their mouth and backed up a step, giving the gentleman his space. He sighed. It seemed that was his notice to leave.

Before the clumsy man left, he managed to look over his shoulder and asked you one last question. "What might my savior's name be?"

"(Y/N). And yours?"

He paused, thinking over his response. His eyes flitted over your attire, the long skirts that dragged in the dirt. The corset framing your bodice. The way you fidgeted your hands together.

"Namjoon. Just Namjoon."

You didn't think anything of your interaction with Namjoon. He wore peasant clothing, and yet held himself in a more gentlemanly manner than most commoners you lived with. If anything, your interaction with him had made your day.

It wasn't until later in the day, when your parents reminded you to keep the incense burning in the home, that you remembered why you can't get close to men. They would just use you, and drag you away for their own selfish desires.

That is what happened to all flower maidens.

Flower maidens were around for as long as you could remember. They were always young ladies born with seeds implanted in them. Seeds that on their 21st birthday, would bloom across them starting all the way from the nape to their back all the way to their bottom, creating imagery of gorgeous flowers unlike any tattoo or painting could ever envision. Blooming in real time, more alluring than anything. Each maiden embodied a different flower, all the way to the way their hair shined in the sun, to the powerful scent given off by each fair lady. To be a flower maiden, was to be an angel incarnate.

These ladies were cursed though. For even though they held immense beauty and could bewitch any man that came across their path. The blooming's held a price.

Starting from the first blooming, the maiden would be weak to anyone that came across them, unable to fend for themselves or against anyone that came to take advantage of them. Their minds would be primed only for the sexual desires of themselves and others, ravaged by the sensations that occurred across their skin. A fire and pain that only got worse the longer they ignored the want for someone inside them. It was said that the pleasure from bedding a flower maiden was unlike anything feasible on earth.

To "protect" the flower maidens, the royals and nobility created a garden hidden away. This garden held all the rare and beautiful flower maidens, and treated them like nobility themselves. The cost being that, a flower maiden must always give themselves to the nobility that visited and paid. It was a "treat for all the nobles hard work". A life of a gilded cage of prostitution. All nobles agreed that watching a maiden writhe around in want and need, as pansies, poinsettia's, roses, and more, spread like a new painting across their bosom was mesmerizing.

The clientele were highborn, and with that came the expectation that a flower maiden may never leave. Every flower maiden that has entered that garden has died before the age of thirty five. It is said that the thorns and blooms wrap around their heart, swallowing them whole of loneliness. Nobles pay millions to enjoy the final blooming of a flower maiden and it is common knowledge that there is no known cure.

There has always been speculation, however, and in your heart you always hold out hope. Hope that by the time your blooming comes, you will have found a way to beat the death curse.

As you pass your hand over the seed on your thigh, you are reminded of this. The seed that would one day bloom into beautiful pink and orange Tiger Lily's.

Your parents always said that the Tiger Lily represented wealth and pride. That was what scared them so. Fear that the nobility would snatch you away. That you would be cursed by their pride and wealth in an endless loop. A toy for them to enjoy.

You refused to be that for them.

When you were sixteen you first noticed a scent start to appear. Your parents quickly moved homes, albeit not easily due to the poverty you all suffered from. Incense soon became common in your household as well. But they refused to allow you to be taken. For they knew they could not afford the cost to visit the gardens, lest you be taken, and knew that you were worth so much more than a life in an esteemed brothel.

It was a dangerous game, but one they were willing to pay.

It was the law that any flower maiden born in Korea be handed over to the government from birth. It was easier to raise a lady into prostitution, than to convince her it was her duty to her kingdom later in life.

The cost of hiding one, was death.

"(Y/N)! Dinner's almost ready!"

You looked one last time at the seed at your thigh.

"Coming!"

“What have you been reading about this time?”

Looking up from your book, you made eye contact with your parents in the kitchen. They both were cleaning up from the days meal, and you could notice a hunch in their shoulders from the days work at the apothecary. You shrugged.

“It’s just another fairytale romance. Prince falls in love with a peasant girl and love happily ever after.-“ Your mother smiled. “You know how they go.”

“I’m glad you’re still able to enjoy those things.” She patted her hands on her apron, before grabbing the flour off the table, reorganizing the pantry as she meandered.

“I will be needing some help in the shop tomorrow. You know how busy it gets on Wednesdays. Is that alright?” Your mother never wanted to impede on your personal studies. It was rare for a women to be educated, so she prioritized your own before the need for money.

“Of course. Nine o’clock?”

“On the dot.”

She blew a bit of dust off a shelf, and wiped a few things down before settling in next to you on the lounge. It creaked under the weight, with old florals stained over time, but made no other noise. She wrapped her arm around your back and held you close. She smelled of smoke and ash, although, you knew she hated it. But she loved you more.

It was as your eyes were starting to shut. The warmth and breath lulling you to sleep, that you heard three knocks on the door.

They were concise and clear.

It was unclear to you, why someone would be knocking at this hour. Many individuals should have settled in for the night by now, or at least been off the streets. Your parents were intrigued by who was at the door as well, as they looked at each other in suspicion, before you felt the warm touch of your mother leave your side.

Their steady footsteps rang out as they approached the door. A creak was heard as the hinges squeaked open. And on the other side stood a royal guard.

You froze in your seat.

The officer took off his hat and held it at his waist.

“Excuse me, ma’am. So sorry to intrude at this late of an hour.” He peaked his head in, making eye contact at you before smiling. “My name is Officer Jungkook. We were alerted of a disturbance on this property. May we come in?” He paused to allow your guardians a moment to process the request.

They looked at each other before nodding. No one could deny an officer of the king.

“Of course. Please don’t stand outside too long. It’s far too cold for anyone to be out.” She waved her arms inside, before around ten men entered the premises. Each one donned in navy blue, with patches of red on their shoulders, designating them as members of the royal forces. They meandered along the walls, dragging fingers along surfaces, led by none other than the individual introducing himself as Jungkook. He looked around with hooded eyes, almost as if intrigued by the atmosphere and cozy home.

It wasn’t until he was far into the living room and the door had been shut, that he clapped his hands.

The sound rang out. Like thunder in a storm.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Hands grabbed and vases flew, as you were apprehended by multiple men. Your parents yelled out for you as you were dragged back screaming and kicking. They were not far better as men dragged them away to a back corner. Muffled yells and tears were the only thing you could hear from your parents.

“Let me go!” You went to bite your oppressors hand, but they quickly brought their hand back before another grabbed your head and held your jaw shut.

“Search her.”

You snapped your head to look over at Officer Jungkook. The order was quick, and if one were not paying attention, they would have missed it. Too bad for you, the royal guards were paying very close attention. Within a second, you had been stripped of your blouse and hands were touching all over your shoulders, back, and neck. You quickly yelled out, as no one had seen or even touched you in those areas before. Face heating up, you kept kicking and shoving at anyone that dared lay a hand on you.

The head guard snapped his fingers in front of the faces of his men quickly.

"Enough of this! The report was for a scent near the skirts. Don't undress the women more than is necessary!" There were a few mumbled apologies before your bodice was thrown back over your shoulders and instead your skirts were pulled down. The situation seemed to be getting worse by the second. You yelled out, as their hands passed over your skin. Brushing over calves and thighs, before finally landing on what they were looking for.

You shook in their grasps, as one of their hands gently passed over the indent of a seed on your thigh.

Your cursed Tiger Lily.

"It's in the middle of the thigh, sir."

Quickly, your skirts were pulled up, but not before the arms around your waist tightened further. Head Guard Jungkook nodded his head and looked pleased before turning to your parents, tailcoat whirling behind him.

"The cost for housing a flower maiden is death. In accordance with our laws, you will be escorted to the palace where you will await trial. This process can take weeks or months, but it is within your best interests to come silently, as we may have to use more force than necessary otherwise." While the other guards were groaning at every jab you sent back, the head guard seemed to be fairly content with the events of the evening. Your parents heads hung low in shame. They had failed protecting their little girl.

He slowly walked over to you. The way he held himself was almost bunny like, with a chagrin smile and mischievous brown eyes. He was just as mesmerizing as the man you had seen earlier. He leaned in close to you and took a piece of hair within his grasp, twirling it around his finger, before his grin reached larger across his face.

"Poor little maiden, I'm sorry you've been cooped up here so long. I can assure you that we will -"

"Piss off fucker!" You snarled. The smile slightly slipped, but never disappeared.

"It seems you are a bit confused. That is of no worry, Wonho?" He held out his hand. One of the guards seemed to get the memo.

"Yes sir!" A needle was placed into Jungkook's hand. Your eyes narrowed onto it. Gritting you teeth, you gave the man your deepest glare.

He smiled. "Don't worry fair flower maiden, in time -" He pulled off the cap. "You will see that this is your true purpose."

You felt a needle plunge into your neck, before everything went dark.

Note:

Hello Everyone! This story is a lot darker than anything I've ever written. This part was about halfway done when I first started writing Snatched Part two, so I can assure you that is coming out soon as well. But boy, do I have a bad habit of trying to write one-shots and them turning into multiple parts. I'm expecting this to be about two to three parts. Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you think. Your comments make my day! Who do we think Namjoon is? Is there more to the curse?

[mystsee]

DRIFTED ✦ SIMON GHOST RILEY

PREV ✦ PART 3 ✦ NEXT

✦ about: being around simon again felt surreal, but duty calls = past memories flood back ;(

✦ content: afab reader, fluff, breakup mentions, no mask, no mentions of y/n.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

opening your eyes, a strong smell of pancakes hit you, making your stomach rumble. sleeping more than 15 hours was making you feel like you had an empty hole in your stomach. at first, you thought lily was cooking for you, it was very usual that lily stayed over in your flat. but this sight you were not expecting it at all!

as you stood up, you forgot about your leg, you felt the pain creep up, but you made it wincing up to the door, feeling pain on your hip now, but hunger was making you desperate!

when you opened the door, you froze. you saw simon, with no shirt on, his back to you, cooking pancakes, for you? you had no idea he stayed over, in fact, you don’t remember very good what happened yesterday, this was quite the surprise.

you stood there for god knows how long, thinking you were being discrete, but you must’ve known by now simon has a 6th sense “see anything you like” his deep voice alone made you squirm on your spot. when did he saw you?

but you woke up confident today, not even thinking the slightest before you talked “what can i say? i’ve always loved your back” simon was taken a back for a second, maybe the meds were still on you.

“why are you even up? you shouldn’t walk by yourself” simon knew you wouldn’t do what the doctor told you and stand up by yourself hence why he was shirtless.

“i can! look, just give me a minute” simon turned and saw you taking one step at a time, not wanting to show your limping, and just laughed to himself, if there was one thing you would never ask for, is for help.

simon turned off the stove and walked over to you “will you ever ask for help?” just when simon was in front of you, your leg decided to stop functioning for a second, making you almost fall over, but once again, simon put his hands around your back, making stand up in front of his chest.

you got distracted for a second, just admiring his chest from here, you could sleep in there for ever! you felt simon nudge you by poking you on your left side of your waist, he knew you were way too ticklish, so you made a very embarrassing shriek “simon!” you said trying to move away from him, but he had very strong arms which you loved “don’t do that” you said pouting.

“then stop trying to hurt yourself love” there was that nickname again, and the blush coming up your neck. even more when suddenly simon put his arms around your thighs and picked you up. “wha-what are you doing?!” simon just started walking to your kitchen, you felt one of his hands on your waist, and the other under your thighs. maybe on the outside you were acting shocked, but you were enjoying this.

“i’m not done cooking” you were so close to him now, that you could feel his deep voice resonating on his chest, again, you could sleep here forever. simon put you on top of the counter next to the stove. he stayed in between you for a few seconds, maybe he is going to say something you thought but he just moved to turn on the stove again.

after a very nice and full breakfast with simon, you told him you would clean the dishes, he obviously refused, but a phone call suddenly sounded on your flat. simon just took a deep breath “sorry love, need to take that” he sounded disappointed “sure, no problem!” now you could clean the dishes simon making a whole breakfast for you was making you feel guilty because you never helped at all :(

by the time you finished cleaning, simon emerged out of your room, you couldn’t read his body language, but the air in the room changed. “come ‘ere, just leave that” simon picked you up again. shrieking you said “stop picking me up simon!” you said in between nervous laughs “if i don’t do this, you’ll try walking all by yourself” he just knew you so well…

he lowered you to your sofa, sitting next to you. he put you sideways, so when he sat, your ankles could lay on his lap. you felt his hands massage your ankles softly miracle hands “uh” simon seemed nervous “what?” you said with a small laugh “i need to leave love” for a second, you felt all the blood drain from you, was he leaving you, for you good? you knew it was too good to be true. him being here with you again, he probably felt bad for you

“leaving? what do you mea-“

“i mean that i’m being deployed, for a month”

-

simon remembers this was the exact reason you two broke up, it was hard being with someone you could see just for a week, or days sometimes. he understood that, and you were in all your right to do that.

“simon, i’m sorry, it’s just too much” simon saw you all cuddled up in the couch, he just came back from deployment, and the first thing he saw was you, the tv off, a numb gaze to the wall. anxiety building in his stomach. he knew something was wrong ever since he left.

“what do you mean?” he kneeled in front of you grabbing your legs, extending them to the floor so he could lay his hands on your knees “every time you leave, i’m worried sick about you, i can barely see you now!”

that was true, he could barely see you now that he was promoted to lieutenant, meaning he had to be more time on base, deployed, working, etc. while he was happy to be ranked up to this level, he knew your relationship was slowly dying.

he could feel you shaking from where he was, the way he could also feel your next words “i don’t think i’m prepared for this simon, i just can’t”

simon felt all the air on him leave, he saw it coming, yet he never thought of how would he react. he just moved his hands from your knees, and just stared at your legs “i’m sorry simon, i know i always told you i would never leave, but, it’s hard for me” he saw the tears threatening to fall again.

breaking up with him was a very hard decision you made. simon was your life, your love and happiness, you knew deep down this was a bad decision. but it was too much. anxiety was worse everytime he left. not joking, every time he left you felt like 15 years of your life passed. your anxiety was just way too bad. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. it was like your soul left with him, which was such a weird feeling for you perhaps it was love but you never said it out loud.

“hey, it’s okay, i understand it, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be worried for a bastard like m-“ “you’re not a bastard simon”

you never let simon talk bad about himself, even when you’re in the middle of a breakup.

-

simon didn’t feel right all the time he was without you, like something was missing with him. yet, he dealt with it. but now, having you with him again, the need to protect you 1000x more, and having to leave again, was making him anxious

“oh” he could hear the disappointment in your voice “where will you be going?” “mexico” “hot weather huh?, will you be prepared for that?” “love, i’ve been in a desert for a month, i’m sure as hell i’ll be okay” you felt simon intense stare on you, you knew what he was thinking

“riley, please, it’s been 2 years.” you said holding his hand softly “it’s your job, who am i to stop you?” you said smiling. it was true, being a soldier was what he decided to do, and he is proud as hell for that, as well as you “just come back okay?” “promise love” “and bring me a leaf or a rock, please” you asked simon smiling at him, and who was he to deny you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a month without him ;’(

do give me ur opinions and allat!! it inspires me hehe

taglist

@the-queen-of-england183 @sluttyforsimon @hotaruteba @honey-on-mars @actorryswife

[missymysticc]

The lowly gardener

Pairing: loki x reader

Summary: a gardener of frigga and loki fall in love. Loki is about to have an arranged marriage. They're love is forbidden.

Warning: just angst, fluff, and no smut. No use of y/n. Forbidden romance

A/n: i uploaded the wrong thing the first time. This is a reupload. I accidentally posted half of the first draft.

"Meet me at our spot "

I read the note Loki slipped into my basket. It's risky, I know, we've been sneaking to meet each other for the past 2 years now. It's a miracle we haven't gotten caught.

I am just a gardener. The queen Frigga's gardener to be exact. I tend to the gardens of this palace. While Loki, he's the prince of asgard. no one in my status should even ever be talking to someone like him without permission. But the day he spoke to me, something I never expected, soon became the best moment of my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years ago~

"You missed a spot" I look to the left where a small branch or leaves peaked out.

"Oh, apologies, your highness. I didn't notice"

I notice he smells of strong asgardian ale. It lingers, the scent, it's so him. Whenever I walk past Loki after parties he always smells of liquor. I don't mind it, the smell always tells me he is approaching.

"I'm going to ask you something. As someone who isn't close with Thor, what do you think of him?" He asks. This feels like a set up. He has always been jealous of Thor, the ladies he slept with, his status, and most of all, how the allfather favors him. It doesn't take someone near to him to notice.

"I don't think I should answer that question"

"Come on, it's not like anyone's here. It'll be our secret." He winks. I look around making sure no one else is here.

"He's... respectful, he's polite. Oh, and he once picked up the fire lillies I so carelessly dropped. So I guess he's nice” I give a tight lipped smile.

"But...?" Almost as if he read my mind. No wonder he's the God of lies.

"I guess...Look, if you're trying to get validation off of a lowly gardener, trust me, my opinion doesn't matter."

"It matters to me" he steps closer. He looked at me in a shifted demeanor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day~

I walk quietly into the garden. To the part of the garden where it's covered. Our spot. The vine covered dome; the lilies, who's scent can cure sadness; the tulips, my personal favorite; but none of it matters since my eyes land on the gentleman standing at the corner.

"You came" he seemed surprised.

"Was there a time where I didn't?" I chuckle at his doubtfulness.

"You were hesitant the first few times we met."

“Yet, I still met you every single time you asked”

I took a few steps closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He leans his head on mine. I feel comfort in his arms.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I lift his head up by his chin. He never looked this upset. I've seen him at his worst, his expression shows a different type of devastation.

"I'm getting married. Father arranged me to marry some princess I have never even met. Like I even bothered to learn her name. I-I can't be married! Not if it's not with you!"

"Love, we knew that we can't be together from the start. We knew that getting into this. I know it's difficult, but all of this was meant to end in due time." I search his face for some sort of clarity. Instead, he pushes me back with confusion written all over his face.

"Do you love me?"

"What are you even asking me?"

"Just answer" my hand cups his cheek wiping of the tears dropping of his eyes.

"Of course I do!"

"Please say it. I just need to hear you say it."

His voice cracks as he looks to the side, then back to me.

"I love you, I'll come back to you more times than the number of all the stars combined. I have loved you ever since the night you asked me such a ridiculous question, and I will love you till the very last sentence you could ever mutter. I love you, and only you." His doubt of my love has always been there. His insecurities that he masks with his so-called self pride, I see through it, I see through it all. It has always been prevalent for me.

"Then why are you alright with me getting married off? You are fine with me with another woman beside me in bed?"

"Of course not! I'm just saying you need to face reality. We were never meant to be together. What reality do you think a mere servant gardener and the all mighty prince of Asgard can be together peacefully?"

He pauses for a minute searching my eyes for something. He sighs, anger surfaces to his face, pushing me back further. He storms off.

The very next day, at sunrise. Someone knocks on the door of my chambers.

“Tyra, I'll be ready in a few-”

My chamber doors open and it isn't Tyra.

“Love.” Loki calls out to me.

“Hey you” I smiled at him. He approaches me and holds both of my hands nearing them to his lips and kisses them.

“You shouldn't be here”qzd

“Would you rather I leave?”

I chuckle

“No, I'd much rather you stay here.”

“I want to apologize. I know I acted irrationally last night. Sometimes I just doubt how anyone as lovely as you could ever want me”

“That's ridiculous! I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have been so unbothered about your arranged marriage. You were upset and instead of comforting you, I made it worse.”

“I really tried to convince my father not to marry me off. He wouldn't budge”

“I know, while you're not married, let's just enjoy each other's company. Not worrying about the future. Just you and me. What do you say?”

He kisses me gently. His lips lingered onto mine longer than usual. No words needed to be said.

[thebluemage]

The Hills | Steve Kemp

Pairing | Steve Kemp x dark!reader

Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, cyberstalking, hacking, gaslighting, dark web, black market harvesting, manipulation, mentions of canibalism, mentions of distributing of body parts, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, dark themes, Steve Kemp (he's a warning on his own!)

Summary | You discover Steve’s dark secret but you still admire him for it.

Word Count | 3163

A/N | Here’s the next part to Obsession, enjoy! ❤️ Beta’d by the amazing @lunarbuck, but all mistakes are my own. Banner & divider made by @vase-of-lilies. If y’all enjoy it, leave some feedback, comment and reblog. I’d really appreciate it!! 💗

Taglist: @superdcchick @hallecarey1 @dangertoozmanykids101 @jobean12-blog @buckysteveloki-me @happydelightfulstrawberry @lovehotch87

First chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | My Ko-fi

‘I only call you when it’s half-past five. The only time that I’ll be by your side, I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me, yeah.’ - The Weeknd

A few days go by, and you can’t stop thinking about Steve. Between the back-and-forth texting, he is nice and funny, everything you could ever ask for. You’re absolutely smitten with him. Just as you pull your laptop onto your lap, you receive a text from Steve.

Hey, Angel. Want to meet up? 

Yes, of course! Are you calling me ‘angel’ now?

Oh, yeah! Unless, you want me to stop… If that makes you uncomfortable.

No, no, please. Keep going, I like that! 

Good, it’s a date! I will send you the address and time! I can’t wait to see you again! My angel.

He sends you the address that is located near the bookshop where you first met him, and it’s not far from your place. You decide to walk the distance there, which is just a few blocks away.

You walk into a warm and cozy cafe. The smell of coffee roams around the acoustic atmosphere of the place. It’s lovely. As you look through the crowd of people, you lock your eyes on Steve again. A smile spreads across your face.

“Hey there, handsome.” You approach the booth where he’s sitting. He stands up and greets you with a hug. “Hey, Angel.”

He’s wearing a soft brown sweater with black pants to complete the look. You wrap your arms around his body as you slide closer to him. His large hands touch your back while he pulls you into his embrace. The scent of his cologne infiltrates your nostrils as you smell his strong scent, a mix of a dewy scent of sage and bergamot. You never want to let him go, not ever.

“You smell nice.” You voice out when you sadly pull away from him.

“Thank you, Angel. You’re so delightful, and you look beautiful as ever.” He compliments  as he takes another look at you, roaming his eyes on your body. “Magnificent.”

Steve is utterly fixated on you. He can’t believe that he has found someone as heavenly as you are. Ethereal yet tangible, wholesome yet sinful to his desires. He only wants more of you with each passing second, he wants to know what you feel like wrapped around him as he rampantly thrusts into you. Fire arises when you look at him, as if you can see right through him. He can’t wait to take a bite out of you.

“You flatter me, Steve.” You reply to him, when you avert your eyes back to Steve, becoming aware of his intense gaze on you. Your eyes connect together, and you feel a spark igniting in your gut.

“It’s the truth.” He states as his stare lingers on. You couldn’t look away from him, afraid to lose this sense of coming home.

“Uhh, let’s sit down.” He takes your hand and maneuvers you into the booth. He takes his place with you sitting next to him.

“So, here come the awkward questions,” he declares while he laughs a bit. 

You tell Steve some basic information about yourself as he listens intently. You don’t want to reveal everything about yourself to him as you feel apprehensive about opening up, so you improvise a generic white lie.

I won’t tell him about my job and about my hacking skills. Maybe I can do more damage and use it to my advantage. 

You tell him a different job occupation and he nods notably.

A waiter comes to your booth to take your orders and leaves quickly, hurrying to the next customer. Several minutes later, another waiter comes with your orders.

“So, what brings you to town, Steve?” You ask him as you tilt your head curiously.

“My second residency.”

“Nice. I can imagine many women would line up just to get a procedure done by you.”

“Not that many, if I’m being honest. Most women that come to me want to change their physique. You have the occasional boob job, tummy tucks.” He plucks a red cherry out of the cup and pops it in his mouth.

“And butt lifts.” You finish for him with a smile.

“Yeah, that too,” He chuckles knowingly.

“Do you have any social media, perhaps?” You ask him as you take your phone out of your bag to search him online.

“I don’t have any.” He shakes his head immediately.

Hmm, strange. 

“Instagram?” You question, persisting on answers as you move closer to him.

“I don’t feel like sharing things about my private life.”

“Okay, that’s valid.”

“What about Twitter?” You continue the questions as you bring your body forward to him and lean your head against your hand for support. He takes a few sips from his drink, taking his time to answer.

“No. Does anyone have anything smart to say on Twitter? No way.” 

“How am I able to contact you more easily? If not via social media, and only texting?”

“I don’t know, you can always send me a letter the old-fashioned way,” he suggests jokingly, as you laugh at his witty comment. He looks up at you, and something mischievous glimmers through his eyes while he smiles at you. 

“What?” You ask him when he keeps staring at you, taking a glimpse at your mouth.

“You have such a beautiful smile.”

“Thank you, Steve. You’re so kind.”

The afternoon progresses to evening, and you and Steve lose track of time. When Steve goes to the toilet, you decide to peek into his wallet that he left behind. His ID card  presents a different identity than what he alluded to. His actual name is Brendan Steven Kemp. 

Huh. Should keep that in mind. What secrets are you hiding, Steve? No social media? Come on now, what doctor doesn’t have a social media of their own?

Before he comes back, you take a picture of his ID card from both sides for later search purposes and neatly put it back into his wallet. Between laughter and regular flirting, you both seem to be in a trance-like state, together in your own little bubble. The tension builds up between you and him; it’s undeniable. As soon as you two walk out of the cafe and walk the short distance to your apartment, the attraction is palpable.

“Fuck this.” You approach him and close the space between you and him. You grab his face and crush your lips onto his with a passionate fire.  

Steve immediately reciprocates and kisses you back. His mind races due to his own duality for you. He must have you. You moan when you feel his tongue sliding into your mouth, clashing onto yours with wild abandon. Steve is enticed by you while he roams his hands all over your body, like a madman. Overwhelming and hot. When you open your apartment door, you both storm through it. When your back hits against the wall of the tiny hallway, you start to pull your jacket off, and let it fall to the floor.

He pulls away slightly to catch his breath and looks at you through gentle eyes while cradling the sides of your face. “Maybe we’re going too fast.”

Oh. That’s the first time. Why is that?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush into it, we can slow down if you like.” You start to back away from the wall when Steve moves away from you, contemplating on what to do. You pick your jacket from the floor and neatly hang it to the coathanger.

“Uhh, do you want something to drink?” You ask him as you go further into your living room, going towards the kitchen. Steve runs a hand through his hair before scratching his forehead with his thumb as he watches you intently and doesn’t respond. He looks away for a second before you continue.

“Or eat?” He looks straight at you with a wild look again, as if he changed his mind again. 

Steve can’t let you go, no matter what. To him, you feel like a necessity, a longing that he hasn’t felt in ages, similar to the longing that he only has when he eats his type of meat. It’s inexplicable and indescribable. You’re the quintessential person of his desires. He lets himself fall on your couch when he sighs and directs his gaze to you again, almost pleading and hopeful. 

“Just you, Angel.” He gets out of the couch and makes a beeline straight toward you, grabs your face, and pulls you into him, pressing his lips hard against yours. Your breath catches in your throat while you place your hands on his head. A whimper slips past your lips as you’re unable to resist your longing for him.

You greedily touch Steve’s body wherever you can as you guide him to your bedroom. Every touch makes you crave him more, your thoughts whirl around in your mind at a rapid pace. He groans and moves the hand to cup the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, spearing his tongue in your mouth. Your nipples harden and your pussy clenches the longer Steve kisses you. You lay on your bed and start to undress all of your clothes quickly while Steve does the same, staring at you with a hefty and lewd gaze glimmering through his eyes. 

He climbs on top of you as he hovers his body over you while he stares passionately; his cerulean eyes growing darker by the second. He can’t believe your beauty, a stunning sight before his own eyes as if you’re a celestial being. He slowly moves his head down and starts to kiss you deeply again.

“I want you, my love,” he muses out hoarsely. He’s breathing just as harshly as you are.

“I’ve wanted you for days. Ohh!” You exclaim when Steve cups your breasts in his hands and molds your flesh before he pinches and plucks at your nipples, sending shivers up your spine.

“Hmm, you’re so responsive to me. Good girl.” He utters out seductively. He takes one of your breasts to his mouth and laps at your nipple with his tongue while flicking the other with his hand.

“Oh, fuck!” You announce as you close your eyes at the way Steve’s salacious tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. He hums with how your soft skin feels to him, savoring every inch of you; his hands making their way to your aching core. 

“Let me worship you, angel. I need to taste you now.” He rasps out, with urgency in his voice. He makes his way down while he gently bites into your skin, leaving red marks on the surface. He sets himself between your thighs and bites into each of them.

“Oh, fuck Steve!” You moan as your face contorts with pleasure as he suddenly shoves his face right onto your heat.

“I’m going to ravish you until you’re not able to utter a single word.” His dark cerulean eyes pierce through you as he hums. “And you’re going to be mine.” The feeling of his tongue going through your slit makes your back arch from the bed, and you moan out his name.

“Please, Steve! I– I’ll do anything!” You plead through jagged breaths while he deliciously defiles you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you firmly into place. He gives you long strokes, capturing every bit of essence you have. He sucks and laps your wet slick up with his mouth as if it’s the last drop of water he’ll ever drink in his life. He’s enticed by your taste, and he can’t wait until his cock is deep inside of you.

“Aahh! Steve!” You wail as you grasp a handful of his luscious hair and pull it. He groans, sending surges of lightning over your body. Your hips buck up as your body quiver underneath him, taking in all the bliss until you feel one of his fingers prodding into you, seeking entrance to your wet and aching pussy.

“Oh fuck!!” You exclaim as you arch your back from the bed while you hear the muffled groans of Steve underneath you. In one swift motion, he delves two fingers into your slit. A coat of your slick envelops his fingers as Steve licks ferociously on your clit.

“Come for me.” His sultry demand comes out low and husky as if he’s trying to contain his never-ending lust for you.

Your hips buck as your head falls onto the pillow from beneath you, when your eyes roll back into their sockets. You feel yourself come undone for him as your walls squeeze around Steve’s digits. 

“Aaaahh, Steve!!”

“Good. Good girl.” He ushers to your cunt as his strokes lightly decrease. He licks your wetness up with his tongue, and he hums out delicately.

“Hmm, you’re so exquisite.”

“T–thank you, Steve.” 

Your chest heaves heavily up as you gradually catch up your breath. He picks up your body tenderly and lays you gently next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You still feel his erection against the lobes of your ass.

You turn your head in his direction with a questioning look.

“Huh, and what about you?” You look at him, confused yet still dazed from your ravenous orgasm.

“Shh, sh, don’t worry about me, I just want to be close to you, skin-to-skin contact. This night was about your pleasure, not mine,” He simply answers. “Go to sleep, my Angel. You deserve to be well rested.”

Your eyes begin to feel heavy as the dim night light protrudes from the curtain of your window. You lift your arm and wrap it around his chest, pulling yourself more into his embrace. 

“Okay, Steve.” You softly accept his demand as your mind dwindles away from any worries. Steve sighs peacefully in return.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, my Angel.” It’s the last thing you hear before your eyes drift to a close, and you fall into a deep slumber.

The next day stumbles in slowly, with the sunlight peeking through the curtain. Rays of sunshine fall upon your face, enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes open slowly, and you’re in Steve’s arms. He’s still sleeping peacefully when suddenly an alarm starts to go off. Steve opens his eyes rapidly and checks the clock, he hurriedly gets out of bed.

“Oh, fuck. I totally forgot the time,” He says when he starts to dress up in his pants again before taking his shirt off the ground. “My shift at the hospital starts in thirty minutes.”

“Oh, what hospital do you work at?” You ask innocently.

“St. John’s Hospital,” He answers while he pulls his shirt over his head. “My first procedure starts in an hour. A patient is going to be very happy with their boob job.” He continues.

“Well, they’re in good hands with you.” You affirm encouragingly. You hoist yourself up from the bed in a sitting position. 

“Why, thank you. I'll see you tonight, Angel.” He takes your hand in his and kisses the top of your hand gently. 

“That’s alright, have a good day at work, handsome.”

“I’ll be thinking of you,” He softly intones when he’s all fully dressed and gathering all his belongings. “See you later, Angel.” And with that, he leaves through your apartment door. 

You squeal cheerily as you start your daily morning routine. Once you’re dressed and finished eating, you think you should do research on ‘Steve’. You want to know everything about him, so naturally, you take up your laptop and place it on your island and decide to do a simple search on Google. The only results that come up are from his reconstructive surgery website and a few articles that he wrote but there’s something else too, another result, a woman named Ann Kemp. 

Out of curiosity, you click on the link. And it redirects you to a Facebook page of a blonde-haired woman with a picture of her family standing in front of a house. And there he is, Steve, standing and smiling with his family. He has a wife and a dog. Ann is holding the dog on a leash. You can’t help but to take another look at the woman, there’s something off about her, but you can’t exactly pinpoint it. You zoom in on her, looking at her hand, and you notice she’s wearing a wedding ring on her left hand. 

You should have known that he was married. He’s too good to be true. You take a different approach with your searching. Since you're a talented hacker, you know your way around technology and the mechanics of it. You pull up a more advanced browser that can search literally anything related or attached to that specific name, word or thing.  The general public would know that browser and use it to go on the Dark Web. You have a program installed, so your IP address isn’t trackable. You remember having a picture of his ID with his real name on your phone. So, you take your phone out and look into it and you type in his name ‘Brendan Steven Kemp’. Up come a thousand search results from the normal search results of ‘reconstructive doctor' to a much sinister, more disturbing and shocking result.

There’s a business. The logo contains a white background, and a red logo of a head of a goat with a snake eating itself around it is displayed. You click on the logo, and it redirects you to a website. To your horror, you come to find that Steve practices in the most inhuman activities ever done. He harvests human meat and sells them on the dark web. And here you are, looking at his webshop. The various ‘products’ are listed by mainly female names. There’s a hand that goes by ‘Hope’, and the description is ever so horribly detailed as if it is a delicacy. With a price tag of thirteen thousand dollars!!

I knew it!! You have a wife!! I have to get out her of the picture, though. I can’t have her orbiting around you like some lost puppy dog. I can’t have that, Steve. There’s also something wrong with her, and how did you meet her anyway? Let me guess, you probably kidnapped her too, and she got Stockholm syndrome as a result.

You immediately go to work with it and pick through his encrypted layers of codes, and when you finally reach the barrier, you unlock the access. With ease, you gain access to his illicit webshop. With another set of difficult codes you shut off his website, and everything turns black.

So, that’s why you’re so private, Steve. You have a wife and are a cannibal. Being able to kidnap dozens of women, probably mutilate them, so as to keep them alive until there’s nothing left, consume them, and ultimately kill them to sell them. And I thought so highly of you. Are you going to do the same to me? Only one way to find out, I guess.

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 4.1k

— contents. mentions of child abuse, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, dissociation, ptsd, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

series masterlist | previous chapter

✰ chapter two. lives left

He would’ve preferred to leave Moon’s room in a better mood, but the reveal that she had died on her previous mission had his blood boiling. 

All of a sudden he was seeing red, wishing to resurrect the creature that had killed her— just to kill them again. This time slowly, giving him time to make this evil being suffer. 

I have this technique for a reason.

Her words echoed in his head, and logically he knew she was right. She wielded the 9 lives because she was strong enough. She was meant to. Although, it never brought him comfort. He rather her never having to use the 9 lives technique at all. 

Despite all that had happened in the past with Moon and himself— he never stopped caring for her. He wished it could be like that, a switch that he could turn off. All too quickly, he knew that weren’t to be true. He’d always care about her, no matter how hard she tried pushing him away. 

Besides, he always knew there was something deeper to her. Something that had her thinking as such. He didn’t need the Six Eyes to recognize the pain she hid underneath her facade. 

He didn’t even know where he was walking, letting his feet guide him aimlessly through the school. His mind was empty of a destination, and instead forced him to remember that day. The one he remembered all too well. 

(Flashback to a year)

The sun shining through the treetops mixed with the cool breeze, it couldn’t have felt more perfect outside. The distinct smell of the flowers blooming, the sweet aroma filling the air. It was addicting, almost easy to let yourself get lost in the moment. 

Gojo had his glasses pushed up into his hair, the object being used as a makeshift headband. He leaned back on his arms, letting his face point towards the golden rays. It felt heavenly on his skin. 

“God,” Moon’s voice whispered next to him, “Feels so perfect outside.”

The white haired sorcerer tilted his head in her direction, giving her a smirk when they met eyes. 

“Of course it's perfect. I’m here after all.” He said. 

She rolled her eyes, fighting down her smile as she finished off her sandwich. Using the back of her hand to wipe off the crumbs from the corner of her lips. 

“You know, not everything is about you.” She told him, taking a sip from her juice. 

Gojo held a hand to his chest, gasping dramatically with mock hurt. 

“So mean!” He whined, “And here I thought we were having a nice time.”

She giggled at his antics, setting down her drink and leaning back on her arms– matching Gojos posture. He smiled to himself, the sound of her gentle giggles like music to his ears. Somehow he made it a mission to himself to always draw that sound from her. Whether it was because he just wanted to make her laugh, or maybe he just adored the sound so much. The way her eyes would crinkle– her smile contagious as he always found himself mirroring her. 

“We are having a nice time, just making sure I keep you in check.” She told him, glancing over at his smug expression. 

He tilted his head curiously. 

“Keeping me in check huh?” He wondered with an amused tone. 

She nodded her head as if what she was implying was so obvious. 

“Yup. Gotta keep you humble.” She told him. 

It was his turn to laugh, the hearty sound echoing in the distance as he fell all the way back– hands clutching his stomach. Moon couldn’t help herself from laughing at the sight. 

“Nines you kill me! You know that?” He managed to get out. 

“Ah see, already showing me how humble you really are. Admitting that I can kill you– because you’re so right.” She stated proudly. 

This had his laughs dying down, the dominance shifting from his aura to somewhere in between the two of them. Although it wasn’t fear he felt, not even a threatening feeling– he felt challenged if anything. If he was anything, it was arrogant for knowing he truly was the strongest. 

“Is that so?” He asked, sitting up and scooting closer to you. 

She watched him scoot closer, not thinking twice about the action. 

“Mhmm.” She hummed, running a hand through her hair. 

“You think you can kill me?” He asked her, his eyes focused on hers.

She leaned closer this time, getting inches from his face as she held his gaze confidently– no faltering. Gojo held his breath, letting his eyes dart from one to the other– her hazel ones capturing him in a trance. Her eyes always were unique to him– the inside always looking like a blooming flower or some beautiful explosion. He could sit and stare all day– depicting where the green stopped and where the yellow started, morphing into a gorgeous dark blue. 

“You know I could.” She whispered. 

Maybe he should have felt threatened. Maybe he should have felt the frustration that someone challenged him of his all powerful role. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He admired her power, because he knew full well that she was. He respected her strength, the abilities she possessed. She was magnificent, and he was truly captivated by her. He didn’t know if it was the power that first pulled him towards her– excited to meet someone that could keep up with him. All he knew is that he wanted to be around her– know her. He didn’t want to live a life without her involved in it. 

He’d never felt such a pull towards anyone in his life– therefore why he wanted to stick around. 

He felt himself getting lost in the moment, his eyes glancing down to her lips– watching her tongue wet the pair. The pink, plump flesh trapped him in his stare. The only thought swirling through his mind was how badly he wanted a taste. 

Moon saw the way his gaze traveled down to her mouth, the sudden realization of what he was thinking hitting her. She always had that weary thought in the back of her mind, but she never believed it would be true. If only she could have the true strength to submit herself to her own desires– but she didn’t. She already let herself slip up by letting a mere friendship bloom between her and the white haired sorcerer. But now in this moment, physically seeing the emotion speak within his eyes as they traveled back up to hers– she knew she had to stop. 

She’d never let anyone get close to her… again. 

She leaned back and turned her head back in front of her, facing away from Gojo completely. The sudden movement pulled him out of his trance, leaving him to attempt to mask the hurt he felt from the rejection. Even if it wasn’t spoken– he knew. Although he ignored his own feelings when he noticed the far away look she suddenly sported in her eyes. 

“Moon?” He tried. 

She took a deep breath, willing herself enough strength to walk away. Learn to stick true to her word and stay away from people. She knew it was unfair to him, but she couldn’t feel that pain again– the same pain that never left. After all these years, the wound still bled– and she never had the power to stop it. 

“I gotta… I’m gonna go–” She rushed out, gathering her things.

“Hey, hey, what's the rush?” He asked, sitting up straighter. 

Uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the mood. 

“I just… I just remembered I have to meet with Yag–” 

He furrowed his brows at her rushed movements, the way her hands slightly shook when trying to zip up her bag. He couldn’t help the worry bubble within him. 

“Did I do something?” He voiced out loud, wondering if he was the cause for her sudden distress. 

Her chest twinged with pain, her guilt doubling at the thought that he was already trying to blame himself. Her lips twitched with the urge to tell him otherwise– to scream out to him what she really felt. But she couldn’t, and would never. 

She faced him, trying to keep her face neutral.

“Not at all, just forgot I had something to do.” She explained casually, and hoped he bought her lie. “Gotta go, see ya.” 

Without another glance towards his beaten down expression, she hurried off to the steps of the school– making her way towards her room. She needed to be alone right now– she needed to think. 

Although she had thought she lied well to him, she didn’t realize that while she looked at him– he could see the pain written in her expression. 

He was left sitting under the tree by himself, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. All at the same time, feeling hurt and concerned. 

(Present)

His feet carried him towards the school stairs, and he gladly took a seat– letting himself come back to reality after the memory. 

It wouldn’t have been such a painful memory if things hadn’t changed drastically after that. She had isolated herself almost completely from him, everyone even. She didn’t talk as much as she did– although she was never that talkative to begin with. She kept her distance– staying calculated about the time of interactions. Gojo was the first to bring it to his friends' attention. Shoko and Geto barely saw it as an issue at first. 

She’s just going through something. Maybe she needs her space. They both told him.

For a while, he supposed he believed them. Perhaps that was easier than thinking it was something he did. If he scared her off or if, she truly didn’t feel the same way he did. The rejection was harder to accept, so he stuck with believing you just needed time. 

Now almost over a year has passed, and you still keep yourself far from everyone– from him. 

“With how hard you’re thinking, you’re gonna end up hurting yourself.” A smooth voice called out from behind him. 

Gojo already knew it was his dear friend Geto, making his way down the stairs. 

“I ain’t thinking that hard.” Gojo mumbled into his palm that he rested his head on. 

“I can practically hear it.” Geto joked, earning a chuckle from the white haired sorcerer.

His laughed died down, going back to staring aimlessly at the stairs that descended in front of him. The long haired sorcerer gazed with watchful eyes at his friend, curious as to what was bothering him so.

“Yaga’s been hinting at a big mission soon. I’m curious if that’s what got you so preoccupied.” Geto wondered.

Gojo had heard the same whispers of the same mission, but it definitely wasn’t what he was stuck in his head about.

“Nah. It’s Moon.” Gojo admitted, knowing when it came to Geto— he wouldn’t judge.

He was his best friend for a reason. Always able to calm him down when he felt slightly out of control.

Geto hummed and ran a hand through his hair, fixing some strands that fell out of place from the light breeze.

“Did something happen?” He asked his friend.

Gojo sighed, and glanced towards Geto with a disappointed expression— not directed at him of course.

“Did she tell you what happened on her mission?” He wondered. 

Geto shook his head with a chuckle.

“Do you think she would? Doesn’t seem like her style to come to me and vent.” He pointed out, although he wished she would. 

Geto cared for her, and knowing something was bothering her– it bothered him. He felt useless sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the day she’d finally express herself. When would that be?

Gojo scoffed, knowing he had a point– but disappointed nevertheless. 

Geto saw the worry etched into his friends features, and grew serious all of a sudden. 

“What happened?” He asked, despite not wanting to know the answer. 

“She lost a life.” Gojo whispered, his eyes dropping back down to the stairs. 

Geto felt his stomach knot up slightly, concern for Moon growing more intense by the second. He knew a great amount about the 9 Lives technique– knowing how traumatic and difficult that was to possess, to experience. Knowing she had gone through it, all alone. It made him feel sick. 

Gojo lifted his gaze back up to his long haired friend, the silence making him wonder where his thoughts were. By the look on his face– he almost knew what he was thinking. 

“Oh Miss Dair…” Geto trailed off, frustrated that you didn’t come to him– or anyone for that matter. This was serious and you were trying to isolate yourself. “Does Yaga know?”

Geto glanced to his friend, watching the white haired sorcerer shake his head. A part of Geto wanted to tell Yaga, not to get you in trouble– but to bring awareness to your odd behavior. 

“He should know about this.” Geto stated, irritation lacing his tone. 

“She wouldn’t want that, you know. She’d be furious with us if we told him.” Gojo told him. 

Geto scoffed, shaking his head this time.

“She already acts indifferent with us– would it really matter?” Geto questioned, genuinely offended, how Moon treats them. 

Gojo again couldn’t argue, knowing Geto had a point.

“I hope she’s okay.” Geto suddenly softens, his worry overcoming his frustration. “Losing a life is like losing a piece of your soul, I can’t imagine what she had to go through.”

Gojo perked up at that information, swallowing with difficulty through his tight throat. A thought suddenly popped into his head, and despite him truly not wanting to know the answer— he found himself asking.

“What happens when she only has one life left,” He whispered into the air, glancing over to Geto’s unfocused expression. “Will she be… herself?”

He watched closely, narrowing his eyes when he saw the long haired sorcerers eyebrows twitch. The silence was killing him, although it had only been a mere few seconds of it.

“I don’t want to lie to you, my friend. Though I am not positive what will be the outcome, I doubt she will be the Moon we know now.” He admitted solemnly.

Gojo tensed from his words, running a hand through his white locks. It was all theories— he knew that. But it didn’t calm him from his anxious thoughts. How much longer did he have to live his life being concerned to death for his friend. It was exhausting— yet completely out of his control.

“Don’t let my words alarm you Satoru,” Geto placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, “This is Miss Dair we’re talking about. She’s a strong one.”

The white haired sorcerer nodded, but couldn’t find the relief that his words meant to bring.

“We all have an ending, and she won’t be meeting hers any sooner than she’s meant to.” Geto assured him.

Gojo wanted to ask how he could possibly know that— but couldn’t bring himself to.

Geto gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze before standing up— brushing off his robes.

“You should get some rest. Our lives are about to get much busier.” Geto suggested.

Gojo knew he was right— again. The sorcerer life wasn’t one of relaxation. He knew all too soon there would be a mission to keep them occupied.

“Now— get some rest.” Geto called out as he walked away.

Leaving Gojo alone on the stairs, still stuck in his head. He needed to push all these worries away for now— there were bigger things at hand. He needed to focus.

Not too far from the school stairs, Moon stood in front of her bathroom mirror– staring intensely at her reflection. She couldn’t figure out what bothered her so much about what she saw– although there was indeed something. An evident change in her appearance– 

No… I look the same… yeah. She argued with herself. 

She gripped the edges of the sink, leaning closer to her reflection’s tip of her nose. It wasn’t until she focused harder on her eyes, when she finally recognized the unfamiliar haunted look in her gaze. 

With a frustrated huff, she pushed off of the white porcelain– stumbling backwards from her reflection and into the door with a thump. Her chest started rising and falling faster– her breathing erratic as she felt herself losing control. 

Her eyes squeezed shut as a violent image from her most recent fight came flashing. The destruction, the loud screech from the monster as it ruptured her ear drums. Last of all, the indescribable feeling of death. The anxiety when your senses start to dull. The last thing she faintly heard was the struggling pounding of her weak heart– attempting to keep her awake for a few more seconds. It was all too much.

The thought came and went like a fleeting shadow, but nonetheless it appeared. 

Sometimes I wish I could’ve stayed dead. 

Her hands gripped her hair, pulling and squeezing as she shook herself out of the images, the memories of what she had gone through. It would haunt her– it haunted her now as she struggled to keep sane. 

Her chaotic state had her stumbling around the bathroom, her body leaning harshly against the shelf next to her shower– causing the furniture to tip over and smash against the tub. The sound rang and echoed throughout the porcelain walls, the noise causing Moon to flinch back– stumbling back into the bathroom door. 

She was overwhelmed, feeling helpless as she couldn’t do anything but let herself succumb to the panic she was trying so desperately to fight off. She cried out as she held a shaking hand over her chest, the pain suddenly sticking out to her. Her lungs felt constricted, like someone was squeezing the air out. 

The pounding intensified in her head, causing her to miss the knocking coming from her main door. 

Geto stood patiently outside of her door. He just needed to see for his own eyes that she was okay before he let himself fall asleep. The talk from earlier– the reveal that she lost a life. He needed to check on his friend for himself. 

After waiting another minute, he started to wonder if she had fallen asleep. Disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see her, he started to walk away– making it a goal first thing tomorrow to see her. 

Before he could take his first step to leave, he heard the faintest cry coming from her room. He furrowed his brows in confusion and leaned his ear closer to the wood– listening again for something. 

Perhaps he’d heard something that wasn’t actually the–

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard another cry, louder this time. Immediately he grew tense and knocked again– more urgent this time. 

“Moon? It’s Geto, I heard something in there. Everything okay?” He called out, listening again when he didn’t hear her answer. 

Although he could hear lots of noises, and what had sounded like whimpers– her whimpers. Her broken sounds panicked Geto– making him wonder if you were hurt. 

Geto sent a hurried text to his friend, not even a second later– the white haired sorcerer was appearing before him. 

“What’s going on?” Gojo asked, his voice stern and serious. 

“I heard distressing sounds coming from inside, but she wouldn’t answer me when I called for her. I’ve been knocking for a bit, and she won’t answer.” Geto rushed out, worried deeply for his friend. 

Gojo thought quickly and mumbled under his breath before placing his hand on Geto’s shoulder.

“She’s gonna hate me for this.” 

Before Geto could ask, Gojo had teleported the two of them inside her room. The sounds of her whimpers louder and so clearly coming from the bathroom. The noise broke both the men, the two giving each other a look before moving towards the bathroom. 

“Moon, are you okay in there?” Geto asked, seeing as Gojo grew suddenly silent. 

The whimpers died down, the shuffling almost stopping immediately. The two men glanced at each other– trying to figure out what she was doing. Before they could talk amongst each other– the door suddenly opened. 

Moon walked out, glancing at the two standing before her in her room. 

“Yeah I uh… my stomach’s been off. Must’ve been something I ate.” She explained to them, keeping her gaze on the floor as she walked towards her couch and plopping down. 

Her episode had tired her out, and she felt ready to pass out at any moment. 

Geto was the first to study her, his eyes trailing up and down for injuries– but stayed stuck on her pale and clammy face. Her skin looked a little sickly. 

“Sorry to hear that, and sorry to barge in– we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained this time. 

She waved him off, giving him a weak tired smile. 

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine.” She assured him. 

Geto wasn’t entirely convinced, but he was happy to at least see her with his own eyes. No injuries were enough to keep him relaxed for now– but he was still worried about her. Always would. 

The long haired sorcerer glanced over to Gojo, who was gazing intensely at Moon. His blue eyes exposed and studying her features, memorizing every freckle– every inch of her skin. 

Moon lifted her gaze to Gojo, swallowing nervously when she became aware of how deeply he was looking at her. It was an overwhelming sensation of feeling seen– like someone could finally see her pain written all over her body. The pain that she refused to reveal. 

Despite Gojo having so much to say, to ask– to know. He stayed silent and followed Geto as he said goodbye and left her room. 

Moon sighed in relief, a part of her grateful that they hadn’t caught her in such a state. Although the other part of her longed for them to stay– for him to stay. She wanted to tell him everything, but instead she kept telling him nothing. The way it should be.

The two sorcerers walked in silence next to each other, both too lost in their thoughts to create small talk. It was almost as if they knew they were both thinking the same thing, or at least they had the same ideas– same theories about what exactly was going on with Moon. 

Geto was the first to break the silence, after taking note of the concerned look on his friends face. 

“Satoru…” He started, but was quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be focused for the mission.” He rushed out, running a hand through his white strands. 

Geto frowned and stopped walking, causing Gojo to turn and study his friends expression. 

“Let’s not shut each other out, okay? We already have that issue at hand.” He started, his tone stern but his expression soft. “I just need you to be honest with me. I’m worried about her too– so I need you to talk to me if you feel there's something wrong.”

Gojo’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped, knowing he was right. It was easier to ignore the issues– ignorance was bliss. Although, he knew all too well that it would only be worse at the end. 

“I just want our friend back.” He whispered, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Geto let his hand rest on his friends shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze– bringing Gojo’s attention back on him. 

“Our Moon is very much there Satoru… we just have to keep being there for her.” He reassured him.

Geto wasn’t pigheaded, he knew very well that Gojo was blaming himself heavily for this whole situation. Despite it being completely out of his control– he knew Gojo well enough to know that wouldn’t matter. 

“I feel like I’m not doing enough.” He expressed, his voice weak.

Geto gave his shoulder another warm squeeze before removing his hand from him completely. 

“You are, my friend.” He promised him.

The dark haired sorcerer left in the direction of his room, leaving Gojo alone with his thoughts. But he knew there wasn’t much else he could say to comfort him. Geto knew he would just have to keep reminding him he was doing enough, until Gojo believed it himself. Meanwhile, maybe his own words would convince himself too. 

Gojo did feel comforted by his friends words, but he knew that all too well that the pit in his stomach wouldn’t stray away. 

Where’d you go Nines… Gojo thought lastly before heading to bed. 

ending notes. hmm, now we are starting to see the two different perspectives of why they aren't close anymore. poor miss moon is kinda a mess 😭 feedback is appreciated as always 🤍

[angstintensifer]

Harry Potter Next Gen as modern family moments

Harry: *reading a letter from Teddy after he leaves for Hogwarts*

Ginny; Harry?

Harry: Make sure to take care Harry, I’ll miss you guys so much

Ginny; nice huh?

Harry, full on crying: Nice! Im gonna go mail him another robe

****

Hugo; you know that hero essay we have to write

Hermione: Mhmm, what about it

Hugo: Well dad kinda assumed I wrote it about him, but I didn’t

Hermione: don’t worry I’ll talk to him

Hugo; you don’t think he’ll be upset, I wrote it about you?

Hermione, touched: you wrote it about me?

Hugo; you know me, I didn’t think much. What’s a hero? Someone whose not afraid of anything and whose strong, that’s you

****

Bill: Im actually relieved, the day that I’ve been dreading. The day you two have finally have out grown me has finally arrived.

Bill, crying; I’m handling it really well.

Victoire: Dad are you crying?

Bill: No

Dominique: are you sure you’re okay?

Bill: Yep

Victoire: Oh Merlin he is crying

Dominique: I’ve never seen dad cry before.

Victoire, starting to cry: but dad if you cry then I’ll cry.

Bill, still crying: I’m not crying

Dominique, also crying; we made our dad cry

Bill: you totally did

Victoire: Because you are our daddy!

All three: *harsh crying and sobbing*

****

Ron and Hermione after Rose got a bump in the head.

Hermione: can we please just call your sister?

Ron: No way, Ginny will be all judgement and condescending, like she’s perfect and I don’t know how to take care of a baby

Hermione: Ronald, she is your family.

Ron: Right so-

Hermione picking up the phone: Of course she’ll be judgmental and condescending

****

Louis: I remember crashing through the wall and the ambulance ride to St Mungos

Bill: That wasn’t an ambulance, I drove you

Louis: then what was that siren?

Bill: that was your mother

Fleur: I ‘as worried!

****

Harry: I did not pick Lily up early from play school

Ginny: Lily, did Daddy pick you up early from school?

Lily: No

Harry: See? Case closed

Lily; we didn’t go

Ginny: Case open

Lily: we went shopping

Harry: Ha Ha, shush now, Lily-

Lily: we bought matching hats

****

George: Act like a parent, talk like a peer.

George: I call it “peer-renting”

****

Percy: There are very few parenting issues where I come out on top.

Percy; You know I’m distant. I work too much, my French braiding is sloppy

Percy: finally, something that isn’t my fault.

****

James: Whoa, you’re being a little-

Rose: Obstreperous? Recalcitrant? Truculent?

James: I was going to say “cray cray”

****

Ginny: Hermione and I are going to go on this beautiful hike while you all sit and think about how selfish and thoughtless you’ve been

Hermione: *nods in agreement*

Rose: if we’re thoughtless how can we think?

Ginny:…

Hermione: …..

****

James: In Legally blonde, Elle won her case because she was true to herself and dressed cute

Harry: James, this is real life, not an excellent movie

****

James: Al, before you say no-

Albus: No.

James: I haven’t even told you yet!

Albus: I’m sticking with no.

****

Ron: Marry someone who looks sexy, while disappointed

Hermione: *looks to Ron in disappointment*

Ron: see?

****

Ron: I’ll get you fixed up *bandages Hugo*

Hugo: Where’s mum?

Ron referring to Hermiones work: She belongs to the people now

Rose coming in: My allergies are acting up again

Ron giving her medicine: well it’s your lucky day, because missy, doctor dad is in the house

Rose: where’s mum?

Hugo: some people took her

Rose: …..

****

Dominique & Victoire arguing

Bill: Ah ah ah, let’s this in court, the food court. The honorable judge Cinnabon presiding

Victoire: That place smells like the inside of Louis Quidditch Robes

Dominique: I like the food court

Lily: me too

Bill: don’t worry girls. We’re not gonna deprive ourselves because of Victoires aversion

Dominique: *cackles*

Victoire: ….

Bill: …..

Dominique suddenly stops: Oh, Victoires aversion, I thought you said-

Victoire shakes her head rapidly

Dominique: Never mind

Bill 0-0 *slowly realizes*

****

Angelina walking until she slips on eggs

Angelina: Fred! Why?

Fred: Im making my egg dropping project

Angelina: maybe don’t make such a mess in the hallway

Fred: Got it! What if I’m the container!

Angelina: there’s a thought- wait no Fred!

Fred, on the edge of the stairs with Roxy putting an egg in his mouth

****

Fleur: What a wonderful dinner

Bill: I’m impressed

Teddy with his arm around Vic: Thanks next time let’s do it at our place

Victoire realizing he accidentally told them they’re moving in together

Louis: I’m in, just give us a owl to let me know

Bill: our place?

Victoire: Well since I’m finished school now, Teddy and I were thinking of getting a flat

Bill: I-

Louis: are you doing sex?

****

Hugo: I’m moving into the attic

James: Cool

Albus: The attic?

Hugo: Hey, at least it’s big, Teddy said you used to live in a closet

Albus: *gay silence*

****

Ron taking care of Rose alone

Hermione over the phone; Keep an eye on rose she has a tendency to wander off

Ron realizing Rose did exactly that: ‘Mione I’m completely capable of-

Hermione: You lost her didn’t you?

Ron: No no no, she is right here, hi honey

Hermione: I can it in your voice, check the dairy case

Ron finding her and trying to open the door: Do you honestly think-

Hermione: doors don’t pull they slide

****

[neege]

Das don't get crushes!

A little small something inspired by the snippet I just added to this post.

A universe in which Sirius and Remus are amicable exes turned friends that have a kid together, and James and Sirius are dating.

Also, @lilacella this is for you! Since you started this whole thing ❤️

Hogsmead was a dream this time of year. James closed his eyes softly and let the gentle sounds of the holiday festivities caress his ears. He could just make out the giggles from Lily and Teddy, who were crafting a snowman, and he listened to the sound of the carolers and the little jingling bells that lined the shop doors. He felt tiny snowflakes rest against his cheeks and nose, and breathed in the fresh air and smell of spiced treats being sold by merry vendors.

"You look happy." James shivered at the feeling of Sirius's deep voice pressed against his ear, and smiled as a strong arm came to rest around his waist.

He hummed as a kiss was pressed to his jaw, and opened his eyes to the breathtaking sight of Sirius—with his long dark hair dusted with glittering snow and his steel grey eyes filled with warmth. "I am happy."

They both stood pressed together for a moment, taking in the wintery, cheerful scene surrounding them. It was a week out from Christmas, and Lily had decided that they all needed to get together to go ice skating in the little village. Currently, she was dusting the snow off of her firey hair, laughing loudly as Teddy ran off cackling. Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Sirius watching his son fondly, and his own heart glowed at the sight.

Remus wandered back over from where he had been purchasing himself and Teddy hot chocolates, and at the sight of his friend—red-nosed and absolutely drowning in wool from his hat, scarf, and mittens—James laughed a little. "Having fun Remus?"

He smiled over at the pair of them with a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip. Sirius reached out to swipe it away with his thumb, and was swatted away with a fake scowl from Remus.

There was a point not too long ago where the sight of Sirius and Remus being so comfortable with each other would have made James feel uncertain of his developing relationship with his partner, but after much reassurance from the both of them, he felt grateful that they were able to remain such close friends. Besides, without Remus and Sirius's past relationship, there wouldn't be Teddy, and James loves Teddy.

As if on que, Teddy came running over—Lily trailing at a slower pace behind him—barreling straight into Sirius, who pretended to have the wind knocked out of him before hoisting the boy up onto his hip. "Hey kiddo! Did you have fun with Aunt Lily?"

"Yeah! We made a snowman and Aunt Lily used magic to make him move! I wanted him to throw snowballs but Aunt Lily said that's not very nice!"

Teddy squirmed in Sirius's arms while trying to talk around Remus, fussing over his hat and scarf before handing over the hot chocolate that had been cooling down a bit.

"Yes, well Aunt Lily's very smart, and you should always listen to her Teds, okay?"

"Okay! Did you see me get Aunt Lily with a snowball? I got her right on the head!"

Teddy continued to chatter his dads' ears off while James turned to face Lily.

"Snowball to the face huh?"

She smiled, the red splotches on her face—no doubt from the cold snow—making her look warm and happy.

"He's such a sweet kid. I don't know, maybe you should've knocked me up when we were still together."

"You're kidding, right?" James smiled at her, "I mean no offense at all, but can you imagine us as teen parents?"

She laughed brightly, "Yeah I know. I don't actually know if I ever want kids of my own, honestly. It's enough to whisk Teddy away whenever I'm feeling lonely, but by day three I'm already ready to dump him back with one of you suckers." James laughed.

Suddenly, Lily's eyes widened at something over his shoulder, and he turned around to spot an uncharacteristically flushed Remus being approached by a tall, handsome man wearing a deep maroon peacoat.

"Remus! It's good to see you out and about and not hunched over your work for a change. What are you doing here?"

James watched with interest as Remus straightened up a bit and blinked rapidly up at the man in front of him. He noticed that there was a bit more whipped cream on his lip and had to stifle his laugh.

"Oh! Kingsley! Hi, um, good to see you!"

James, Lily, and Sirius all exchanged subtle glances with each other.

"Um. I'm here with my friends!" He turned awkwardly to the rest of the group, "This is Sirius and Sirius's partner James, and this is Lily."

Sirius motioned to his own lip while Kingsley turned away, and Remus's flushed cheeks intensified as he hastily wiped at his mouth.

Kingsley smiled at the group, shaking each of their hands, "Nice to meet you. Remus and I work together at the ministry, but I almost never see him anywhere except his office."

He looked down at Teddy, who was still being held in Sirius's arms, bending his knees so he was eye-to-eye with him, "And who's this handsome fellow?"

"I'm Teddy! I'm 4!"

Sirius smiled down at his son, "Ah yes, this is Edward, but we call him Teddy for short, he's mine and Remus's little one," and at Kingsley's raised eyebrows, he added on "and the result of one too many firewhiskeys way back when."

Remus's face went Scarlett as Kingsley laughed, and James pinched Sirius's side as a warning to be nice.

"Well, it was really nice meeting you all! Maybe I'll see you on the rink in a little while, I'll be with my sister and niece if Teddy wants a friend. Take care, bye Re! I'll see you Monday yeah?"

Re?

"Yeah! Of course, yeah, bye... Have fun!"

As Kingsley walked away Remus immediately turned and hissed at a laughing Sirius: "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Teddy's eyes went wide at the expletive, and before he could speak, Remus corrected himself.

"I'm sorry Teds, that's a naughty word, and I shouldn't have said it, just like your father shouldn't have embarrassed me like that in front of my coworker!"

"Oh, coworker huh? That's why you're so flustered? Because you're trying to stay professional?"

Remus sniffed at that. "Yes! As a matter of fact, that man is my supervisor! I don't need him knowing about... my private life!"

James snorted, and Lily cut in, "Yeah right, that man is the sexiest man I've ever seen Remus, and if you don't climb him like a tree, I might-"

"Lily! Oh my god, there's kids! Teds, why don't you go play with Aunt Lily again, keep your mittens on this time, okay?"

And then a cackling Lily was being sent off again, followed by giggles from the remaining two men.

James and Sirius linked their free hands together, and Remus turned to look at them both, a blush staining his cheeks and unable to look them in the eyes.

"Christ, can you believe her?" The couple exchanged a look. "What?"

"Oh come on Remus, you totally like him!" Before Remus could counter, Sirius cut in "You're red as a tomato, and I haven't seen you that flustered since the night you got knocked up."

Remus crossed his arms. He had a pouty look on his face and looked about one second from stomping off—James chose his next words carefully.

"Look mate, I know you love the life you've built and that you want to be a good Da, but there's nothing wrong with a little crush okay? Did you think Sirius was a bad dad when he and I started seeing each other?"

He felt Sirius squeeze his hand.

Remus's eyes softened a little, "No, of course not."

He bit his lip, and continued. "But it's different! You guys have known each other for years and years, you're best friends, and Teddy grew up around you James! I can't just... uproot Teddy's life because of... I don't know. And besides, Kingsley wouldn't be interested in me like that, I mean he's so handsome and intelligent... I don't know."

Sirius sighed. "Remus, you know I care about you. You know I love you, me and James and Lily, we all love you so much. And I don't have to be dating you to know that you're incredible and intelligent and damn handsome."

Remus blushed and gave him a small smile, looking down at his feet.

"But I care about you. You're a great father. The best, better than me at times-" "That's not true-" "-okay equal to me. Teddy loves you, he's so happy and he'll grow up surrounded by people who love him, and that's because of you. But sometimes you use Teddy as a reason to not put yourself out there. You deserve to be happy too Remus."

James placed a hand on Remus's forearm, "And this doesn't have to be forever you know? Teddy will be perfectly fine if you go out with Kingsley for a while and it doesn't work out. Like Sirius said, you deserve to be happy. Or at least, you deserve to get laid. And that man is fucking hot, did you see his thighs? Jesus Christ he's wearing a peacoat and I can still tell he's fit as hell."

Sirius laughed, and Remus huffed a little, turning away from them for a moment before speaking again.

"You really think he'd like me?"

"Yes, but you never know if you don't try. Just go talk to him yeah? Ice skate near him or something. Fall into his big strong arms like the princess everyone knows you are."

He met their eyes with an amused, shy smile—then moved his eyes towards the direction Kingsley had just gone. "Okay. I'll try."

-----

"Alright Teddy bear, let's get you warmed up okay? Your hands are like ice cubes." Sirius held the sleepy little boy in his lap, rubbing his small hands together between his larger ones to get the blood flowing.

"Dad, did you see me? Aunt Lily was helping me skate, and I went in a circle! I even fell only one time!"

"Yeah Teds, you were great!"

They sat together for a moment, a rare, quiet moment where Teddy wasn't bouncing off the walls with excitement. James sat at Sirius's side, his head resting on his shoulder and his hands wrapped around their hot drinks: a hot chocolate for James and a black coffee for Sirius. The two men looked out over the ice rink—sharing twin smiles of delight as they observed their pink-cheeked friend skate clumsily next Kingsley.

"Think he'll be alright out there?" James asked Sirius.

Just then, Remus lost his balance and flailed awkwardly for a moment before falling backwards, only be to caught by strong, graceful arms. James could hear the laughter from where they sat, and the fondness in Sirius's voice when he replied, "Oh yeah, he'll be great. We'll take Teds home with us just to be safe."

As if summoned by his own name, Teddy sleepily blinked across the rink at his blushing father.

"What's wrong with Da?"

James leaned down to look at Teddy's big brown eyes—looking so much like Remus.

"Well Teddy, I think your Da has a little crush."

Teddy pulled a face, like he'd just tasted his least favorite food, before declaring loudly:

"Ew! Das don't get crushes!"

[ottopilot-wrote-this-txt]

Coven, Part I

"Coven" is a work of erotic fiction, intended for adults 18+, written by Ottopilot. Original version containing AI-generated images. Content warnings: sexual content, mature language, mind control, corruption, occult, sadism

This is: Part I, Continued in: Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V

[Sarah Rodgers, a white woman in her early-20s, sits on a couch with her arms crossed and looking to her right. She is wearing a black hoodie and her auburn hair peeks out. She is in an apartment living room and there is a raging thunderstorm outside.]

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," Sarah murmured, her voice scratchy and quivering. She brought the mug of hot tea up to her lips, feeling the warmth spread down her chest.

Lilith Solomon studied the wearied figure on her living room couch, her fiery hair and sharp features obscured by a damp black hoodie. After two years, Sarah appeared unexpectedly tonight like a ghost, here to haunt Lily for past misdeeds. Lily observed Sarah intently while she frantically told her story, flinching at the thunder as her eyes anxiously darted towards the window, looking for unseen boogiemen. Finally, those big brown eyes settled on Lily, and behind the weary facade, she recognized the Sarah Rodgers she knew so well.

[Lily Solomon is a young multiracial Black woman in her early-20s. She is a sitting in a chair wearing a casual teal dress. She is in an apartment living room and there is a raging thunderstorm outside.]

Lily spoke, her voice calm and measured. "Sarah, I want you to know you'll be safe here." Strong and reassuring. Same old Lil, keeping up appearances, Sarah thought, taking a sip of tea while hiding a slight smile. She hasn't changed one bit. "Jamie set up a towel in the bathroom for you to get cleaned up, and I can lend you some clean clothes. I think it's best if you get some rest tonight."

Lily rose from her seat opposite Sarah. She towered over Sarah, her imposing presence a contradiction to her soft, friendly face. With her smooth mahogany skin and waves of raven black hair, she looked positively regal in the moonlight.

The words dried up in Sarah's throat, and she blushed as she realized she was staring. She wanted to tell her former lover she was a goddess. She wanted to ask her why she left. But all she could muster was a nod, and a thank you.

[Lily stands in her bedroom, which has large windows and a view overlooking the university town. You can see the storm and night sky. She is wearing a teal dress and looking over her shoulder at the viewer.]

Lily closed the bedroom door softly behind her. She sauntered over to the open window, closing her eyes and removing her jewelry. She took in the smells of the unexpected autumn storm as she tried to process Sarah's frenzied arrival. She had made every effort to appear composed and dispassionate, but she could not deny being rattled by her former love's reinsertion into her life.

Emerging from the en suite on the other side of the room, Lily's boyfriend Jamie misread her conflict for incredulity. "Do you believe her?"

"How much did you hear?" a weary Lily asked.

"Enough," Jamie Mendoza shrugged. He leaned against the entryway, a blue t-shirt and athletic shorts hung nicely on his slim, toned frame. He rubbed his index finger against his five o'clock shadow pensively. "I can believe quite a bit. Hell, I'm Filipino, we still have exorcisms. But witches? Human sacrifice?"

[Jamie Mendoza is a slim, well built Asian man. He stands in a bedroom leaning against the entryway. He is wearing a blue t-shirt and athletic shirts. There is a bed nearby. This is a wide shot of the room interior.]

"What concerns me is Sarah believes it," Lily said, frowning. "That woman is terrified. I hope it's okay if she crashes here for a couple of days while I check this out."

Jamie nodded. "Sure. I have classes, but I can swing by before lunch and check on her." He paused. "You're seriously going to look into this?"

Lily sighed and nodded. "It's not like Sarah to just make shit up. Anyway, I'll grab a coffee and do some digging at the stacks. They won't miss me at the paper tomorrow morning. Besides…"

"You just have to know," Jamie finished knowingly, with a chuckle. "The Blackthorn Ledger's intrepid bulldog reporter is a good friend to have."

"Yeah," Lily said, her voice trailing. She wondered what Jamie suspected about her past with Sarah.

Lily was still unsure about her future with Jamie. He was a kind and good-natured boyfriend - better than she deserved. She seemed drawn to the innocent ones like him. Even with her best intentions, she took too much pleasure in corrupting them, and they brought out her basest instincts.

No, she would break it off with Jamie before she got in too deep. That was the mistake she had made with Sarah. Even now, her need to help Sarah was less altruistic than driven by guilt that she failed in a domme's most important job: protecting their sub. Lily knew she wasn't as good and moral as the image she projected. That she was capable of darkness. And she hated that about herself.

"You see something you want?" Jamie said, playfully, a glint in his eye. Lily realized that, lost in her thoughts, she must have been staring.

It had been a long and strange night, but Lily was willing to take the bait. Besides, seeing Sarah again had stirred up a tempest in her mind and body, and she could use a release. "Bold of you to presume what I want," she snarled, her posture stiffening. Lily squared her body to face Jamie, hands on hips, her demeanor almost threatening. "Know your place, boy."

Silently, Jamie removed his shirt, then his shorts and briefs, revealing his smooth, hairless body. A flawless canvas, perfect for me to mark up, Lily thought, before dispelling that notion. He deliberately walked toward Lily, eyes cast downward, and kneeled directly in front of her. Finally, he looked up. "Yes, Mistress Lilith."

Lily playfully teased her fingers through Jamie's hair, then quickly grabbed it and pulled. Hard. Something between a gasp and a whimper escaped his mouth. "Make it up to me," she demanded. She guided his head under the hem of her dress, until she could feel his hot breath on her bare, glistening pussy.

Jamie panted, reveling in submission to his queen, his superior. Slowly, his hands traveled up her soft thighs, gripping her hips firmly but reverently. He inhaled deeply, her scent deepening his trancelike state, before his tongue dutifully lapped at her folds.

[A wide shot of the bedroom. Outside there are several lightning strikes, and trees and the town below. Jamie is squatting, nude, performing cunnilingus on Lily, who is standing and has her teal dress pulled to the side. Her eyes are closed in ecstacy.]

Holding his head still, Lily ground her pussy forcefully into his waiting mouth, as Jamie increased his fervor. "Such a good boy," she purred. And he was a good boy, so willing to obey. For a brief second, she let herself entertain the thought of how far she could push him. What would he let her do to him in the name of devotion? How wet would her pussy get to hear him squeal and see him grimace in pain? But Lily focused on the pleasure, and let the wave subside and recede from her mind. She always had - no, needed - to be in control.

[mooodyblue]

hello my dear lily!! no rush for this request at all but any time u feel like writing more cg!austin I would love to read some! maybe reader slips while they’re on vacation together. (yes I’ve been smiling looking at pics of kaia and aus in paris together 😭❤️)

sooo late but thank you for the request friend !!! hope u enjoy 🫶🏼

pastries and jealousy

pairing: cg!austin butler x gn!little!reader

wc: 1.2k

➸ masterlist

austin was a busy man, never seeming to catch a break. but when he was presented with the opportunity to go to a launch party for his perfume in paris—he took that as a perfect opportunity for the two of you to have a romantic getaway.

paris was okay for the most part. you attended events with him, went for nice walks together, and stayed curled up in bed every morning till it was time to get up. it was nice to have some time with him after such a long time. you missed this, missed him. although, there was always a strong pang of jealousy whenever he was mingling with others at the fashion events he attended. he was yours, nobody else's. seeing him give that dreamy, bedroom glance to someone else made you feel awful.

after coming back from a launch party, the two of you were silent in the cab ride home and austin definitely noticed. austin often joked when the two of you were apart that he just had a feeling you weren't having a good day, so being next to you? he didn't even have to ask if you were okay or not. 

he placed his hand on yours, resting between the two of you on the seat. “what's wrong?” he asked, glancing over at you staring outside the window. he got even more concerned when he saw your thumb slip between your lips—a habit you had when you were anxious about something. he reached over and grabbed your wrist, “don't do that.” 

you let out a whine in response, crossing your arms with a huff as you looked out the window.

he couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the pout on your face despite your obvious annoyance. “you feelin’ little, baby?” he asked, rubbing your back gently. 

oh, how you wished you could stay mad at him. his gentle touch softened you up, glancing at him and then down at your lap. “i dunno…” you muttered. before you left for paris, you promised yourself you wouldn't slip. not while on a much-needed vacation-that-wasn't-really-a-vacation. you didn't even pack your paci or a stuffie. what an awful time for you to suddenly regress.

“that's alright.” he pressed his lips against your temple and kept a hand on your back, trying to think of something to cheer you up or even help you fully slip. he had packed an emergency bag for times like this, except he had it at the hotel. but it was clear you needed a boost, and that's exactly what he was going to do for you.

he glanced out his side of the window, noticing a small bakery on the corner. never in a million years did he think he’d be giving you sweets for no reason, but he thought you deserved a nice pick me up…or maybe that was a valid reason.

you were surprised when he brought you to a small bakery, the fresh smell of baked goods and coffee filling the air the moment you stepped in. your eyes were glued to the glass windows, looking at the various pastries and breads the place had to offer. 

there was so much to choose from….various macaroon flavors, cakes, sweet breads—it was taking everything in you to not jump out and down in excitement. 

“....you hear me?” 

you stood up straight, looking at austin. “huh?”

he put an arm around your shoulder, shaking his head, amused by how had suddenly drowned him out. “i said—you can pick out a few things. whatever you want, baby. my treat.”

“anything?” you gasped, looking back at the desserts. 

“yes, anything.” he repeated. “i’ll even buy us a couple of hot chocolates, that alright?” 

you let out another tiny gasp, holding onto his arm and stomping your feet excitedly. “i want whipped cream!” 

he adored how excited you got over small things while little, he was practically beaming with happiness just by looking at you, unable to keep the smile off his face. “what's the magic word?” 

“please!” you answered proudly. 

“good job, baby!” he kissed your cheek and let you finish looking at the various pastries. 

austin definitely splurged a little too much on you, but it was a local bakery—he even made sure to tip well. he got the two of you a seat in the corner to prevent anyone coming up to him or having anyone take sneaky photos of the two of you. this was his private time, he wanted to spend it well with you.

he had a tiny box of macaroons and a box of various pastries to share. you're brain wasn't able to fully pronounce some of the words, so you pointed as he told the barista what you were pointing at. 

you thanked him as he set everything down on the table, holding the warm cup of hot chocolate between your hands.��

as you were about to take a sip–austin took a sip first, giving you a soft smile and completely unaware of the white, creamy mustache on his upper lip. you let out a soft giggle, looking at him and covering your mouth to stifle back a laugh. 

“what?” austin raised an eyebrow, “whats so funny?” 

you kicked your feet under the table, giggling again. “you have whipped cream on your face!” 

his eyes widened, looking at his reflection on his phone and turning red before going to wipe it off. “okay, okay. it's not that funny.” he mumbled, “eat a macaroon.” he quickly said to change the topic.

an eclair, tart, and a few macaroons later–you took a sip of your own hot chocolate, carefully holding the mug between your hands as you drank carefully. austin knew you were a bit clumsy when little, so he held up the bottom of the cup to give you a bit of support.

you set the mug down, your upper lip now covered in whipped cream. 

he chuckled at you, “how cute.” he grinned. “seems like my mustache has somehow teleported to you.” he dipped his finger into his whipped cream and booped your nose, “there we go, perfect!” 

“daddy!” you whined, dipping your finger into yours and getting some on his cheek. 

“alright! okay! i surrender!” he laughed, wiping his face off with a napkin then wiping off yours. “silly baby.”

after finishing your hot chocolate, he tossed the leftover desserts in a bag and wiped up your face again—clearing of any chocolate or sticky residue from the sweets. “you still mad at me?” he asked, wiping off chocolate from the corner of your lips.

you sighed, “thought daddy got sick of me.” you said with a pout. 

“me? sick of you? oh, sweetie.” he kissed your forehead, “you're my baby. i don't know what gave you that idea, but i’m yours and yours only. alright?” he stood up and took your hand, the other hand carrying the plastic bag. he led the way out of the bakery and back into the cool, crisp paris air, holding your hand as you wandered back to the hotel. 

your arm was hooked under his the whole way, eventually stopping to look at him. “daddy?”

he gave you a soft smile, holding your hands in his. “what's up, baby?” 

“‘m sorry for gettin’...jell–jel–jea—” you stammered.

he waved it off, “jealous. i think that's the word. it’s a big word, isn't it?” he crouched down, “a word that little ones like you shouldn't even be worried about.” he squeezed your hands gently, “i love you, baby. big or little, you'll always be my baby. are we good now?”

you nodded, looking down at him. “okay.” you hugged him tightly, almost making him stumble backward as he let out a laugh. “i love you too.”

[opheliasflora]

Title: I Could Find My Way Back (Marcus Pike/f!Reader)

Rating: Mature

Word count: 3590

Warnings: Discussions of sexual assault (non-detailed and non-graphic). Swearing. Brief descriptions of kissing/making out. Reader is unnamed; Marcus (and other characters) uses nicknames (i.e.: “Sunny”, “sweetheart”, “chica”). Reader identifies as female but is otherwise unspecific and undescribed.

Notes: In the interest of standing by my belief that fiction can be used to Work Through It, this is a very personal one. And as such, it is maybe not applicable to everyone, but I attempted to approach it with respect and kindness and I hope it rings true enough for someone else.

Dedicated to @ladamedusoif… Thank you. 💜

(Dividers by @saradika-graphics)

The last time you saw Marcus, you were both eighteen, both stupid kids in love but with no idea how to handle it. You’d been preparing for your trip west for college; he was headed south. Daily phone calls turned into weekly letters, into bi-monthly check-ins, into Christmas and birthday cards.

You lost touch soon before it happened, and in more than one therapy session you’d openly wondered if that was to blame for your stupid choices. (Your doctor insisted that was normal but very, very untrue.)

And, nearly twenty-five years later, when you walk into the bar and hear a familiar, long-ago guffaw, your heart skips a beat and your breath catches in your throat.

The laugh causes him to toss his head back, and as he lifts it to normal height again, his eyes slide past you — and then back to you.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Despite your nostalgic shock, you grin brightly. “Heya, Marc.”

He’s off his stool and wrapped around you before you can say any more. “Jesus, Sunny, are you real?” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ve only had two beers so you have to be.”

“I’m real, Marcus,” you giggle, hugging him back. His patchy facial hair is thicker than when he was a stubbly kid, his hair a little longer, a little curlier, and a little greyer, but deep in the recesses of your memory he smells and feels and energizes the exact same as your high school sweetheart. The fact that he immediately falls back on your nickname from the old days makes the nostalgia even stronger.

His friends all but abandoned at the bar after a quick explanation, the two of you settle at a small table towards the back of the pub, Marcus’ beer now sitting opposite your Jack and Coke.

“I’m guessing you’re back for the reunion?” he asks, his thumb and index finger stroking and pulling lightly on your pinky.

It’s as if no time has passed, the comfort is so easy.

You nod, taking a sip of your slightly-too-strong drink. “Yeah. Wasn’t gonna, but had some…unexpected time off work,” you explain. (He doesn’t need to know that you were forced into taking your two-week vacation because your entire department was worried you were about five minutes from a burnout breakdown.) “Figured it couldn’t hurt to come back and see some folks.”

“Like me?” His voice is airy, teasing.

“No. Like Kevin.”

Marcus groans. “Oh, god, he’s gonna try to steal you away from me again, just like in school.”

You laugh. “Isn’t he married now?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “A really nice woman named Lily. Never thought Kev would be the settling down kind, but they’re happy. Expecting a little boy soon, too.”

You remember something else you’d heard. “You’re married, too, no?”

“No,” he replies, and the sadness passes quickly. “I was, for a little while. It didn’t work out so I’m on my own again.”

“I’m sorry, Marc. That sucks.”

“Mm, it’s alright. I’ve moved on.” Marcus takes a swig of his drink and eyes you. “What about you? Husband? Boyfriend? Kids?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “None of the above.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Marcus!”

“Just checking.” He grins, eyes sparkling. “Has it been a long time?”

Pretty much since right after you, you think. But this isn’t the time.

“A while, yeah.”

He takes another mouthful. “A shame,” he mutters when he can speak again.

You almost think you misheard.

“So that settles it. You’re my date to the reunion.”

“What?”

Marcus pinches the skin of your hand. “You heard me. You and me, just like old times. That sound okay?”

You feel like you don’t have much of a choice, but you’re also pretty okay with that. “Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess?”

“Good. Where are you staying?”

You give him the address of the Airbnb you’re in, and he nods. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

He finishes his beer, then watches — somewhat impressed — as you down the remainder of your own drink. “I’m really glad you’re back, Sunny.”

“Me, too, Marc.”

You aren’t lying.

After several different outfit choices, you’re finally settled and smoothing your striped sweater over the top of your slim black pants, your shoes cute but practical for a night that’ll probably involve far more standing than sitting. You fix your hair quickly as you hear the beep of the horn outside, and grab your phone and purse before running out and locking the door behind you.

Marcus isn’t dressed that much differently than he was at the bar, though now his button down is secured under a blue polka-dotted tie and his jeans have been replaced with a pair of grey slacks. He’s also combed his hair a bit more neatly, though the breeze blowing through the truck’s window has some softly-curly strands falling over his forehead.

You step up to the driver’s seat and rest an elbow on the frame as you lean in to kiss his cheek. “You ready for this? We can still skip out if you want.”

He smiles. “How about we go, and if, after an hour, it’s boring as shit, we sneak out and go to Johnny’s instead?”

It’s the same plan as when you were in school. Johnny’s is the diner on the edge of town — you were shocked to see it was still open when your cab passed it on the way in — and the best place to be a little private and a lot out of the way. You and Marcus had always had a code: if you were at a party or an event or a school thing and you wanted out, it was as simple as a little, “Hey, aren’t we supposed to meet John?” and you knew it was time to go.

“Sounds like a plan,” you reply, winking as you walk around the front of the truck and climbing into the passenger’s seat beside him.

The drive to the high school isn’t long, and the silence between you — punctuated by Springsteen’s greatest hits — is light and breezy. Marcus has always been a careful driver, and you’re happy enough to just watch the old haunts go by out your window as you both breathe-sing to “Thunder Road”.

When he parks in the lot, he’s actually at your door before you can get out, and he offers his arm. “C’mon, just like when we were kids,” he reminds you. You roll your eyes but accept, your hand gripping his bicep as you head into the gymnasium.

“Pike, that cannot be who I think it is!”

You’d recognize Kevin Garcia’s voice anywhere. Marcus’s best friend since childhood, he’s always been loud and boisterous and probably a little more trouble than anyone should be, but you’d always really liked him like a brother.

“Kev, be nice,” Marcus warns, but it’s too late — Kevin has you up in his strong arms, spinning you despite the height and weight you have on him.

“Holy shit, chica, you’re prettier than you were in high school.”

You roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment. “Could say the same, Kev.” He’s gorgeous — chiseled from marble, you and your girlfriends had always joked. His brown eyes are lighter than Marcus’, but just as easy to lose yourself in; his features are gruffer; his hair more tightly curled. If you hadn’t been spoken for all through high school you might have given him a fair shot. (His friendship with Marcus hadn’t stopped the occasional flirtation from him, anyway.)

Kevin introduces you to Lily, a statuesque redhead with more freckles than you’ve ever seen and a belly that seems to threaten to topple her with one wrong move. Kevin’s palm stays right on it, cautious and protective the whole time the four of you talk, and you can’t help but smile.

You break away from the Garcias after a bit, promising to catch up more before you head home, and you find yourself heading to the catering tables while Marcus stops to chat with a group of people you don’t know very well.

“Hey, you.”

You freeze in place as you’re filling your plate, your blood running cold. Despite every single instinct in your entire being telling you to just drop it and run, you don’t — instead you take a single, deep breath and look up.

It can’t be him. It can’t. Last you’d heard from your lawyers, he had moved out to Arkansas once he was released, and you’d figured that was the end of it.

But it is him. The same sharp, ice-blue eyes. The same swoop of auburn hair, though artificial now.

That same shark-toothed grin.

“I… I’ve gotta — ” The words don’t come, but you run, your plate finally discarded on the table.

You hear him calling out for you but you refuse to turn, your heart pounding in your ears as you desperately look for Marcus.

“Hey, hey, slow down.” It’s Kevin’s voice, his hand on your arm gently. “You alright?”

“I — I need to find Marcus,” you breathe, and you’re annoyed to realize there are tears clogging your throat. “Have you seen him?”

Kevin gestures over his shoulder. “Back by the hoop talking to one of the teachers,” he said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You wish you could answer but you’re just not ready. Instead, you fake a smile and hurry off, leaving him confused as you beeline towards Marcus.

“John just called,” you manage as soon as you’re in earshot. Marcus turns to you, eyebrow lifted, but when he sees your expression, he adjusts. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Okay.” There’s no question. He says his goodbye to Mr. Williams, his arm snaking around your waist. You know you’re shaking, you can feel it yourself, but you hope he won’t ask — at least, not now. With a little wave to Kevin and Lily who are not far from the door you’re headed towards, you keep close to Marcus’ body and keep your head down.

He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say a word until you’re in the car and about fifteen blocks from the school. It’s only then that he pulls into the empty parking lot of a local bank and puts the car in park.

“Hey. Sunny, are you okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s…”

You lose control when his hand comes to rest on your knee. Two decades of tears stream from your eyes as you gasp for air, and Marcus jumps out of the car to come to your door and pull you into his arms. You’re still in your seat, but tucked tightly against his chest, your body racked with sobs and your chest burning as you struggle to regain control.

To his credit, Marcus doesn’t push. He holds you, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other stroking gentle lines up your back. You know you’re staining his sweater with your tears, but he gives no indication that it bothers him. Instead, he murmurs in your ear, “It’s alright, it’s okay” over and over.

“I — ” You try to speak, and it’s difficult, but you know you need to get the words out. “I can’t — I can’t tell you here,” you finally manage. “Someone might hear.”

There’s some kind of fear in Marcus’ eyes when he pulls back to meet yours. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Alright. Do you want to go back to the apartment, or do you want to come to mine?”

An irrational thought comes into your head: What if he knows where I’m staying?

“Can we go to yours?”

“Of course.” He brushes your cheeks with his palms. “Are you okay? Do you want to wait a few more minutes?”

You shake your head. “No. I don’t want to… I want to get out of here.”

Marcus smiles comfortingly and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, Sunny.”

It isn’t until you’re settled on the couch, your still-shaking hands wrapped around a mug of tea, that Marcus joins you, his dark eyes soft and concerned.

“Do you want to talk?”

You nod, and Marcus shifts closer, his knee bumping against yours as he rests an arm across the back of the sofa, right along your shoulders.

“I was at the catering table,” you start. “And Mr. Mason came up to me.”

“The chemistry teacher?”

You nod. Marcus doesn’t pry, letting you tell the story on your own time, but his thumb strokes over the back of your neck gently.

“Everyone knows he was a bit of a weirdo, right?”

“I never had him as a teacher, but yeah, I heard he was a little…off.”

You take a deep breath. “He wasn’t just off, Marc.” A pause. “After we graduated, I ran into him at the movies one night. My friends wanted to go to a club after, and I didn’t, so Mr. Mason offered to drive me home.”

Your heart is racing, and you’re not sure the words will come out, but you close your eyes and force them past your lips. “We never made it to my house. He…he raped me and left me on the street a mile from home.”

When you manage to look up again, Marcus’ handsome face is white with rage. His hand has stilled behind you, his thumb against the bend of your shoulder.

“And he just…showed up today?” There’s something new to his voice, something dark and sinister in it. You’re moved to put your cup down and press your palms to his thigh.

“He went to jail for five years,” you explain. “It was a miracle he even got that.” This part feels easier, somehow. “They tried to…say it was my fault, that I’d enticed him. But he had bruises from where I fought back. It was enough, I guess.” You sigh. “When he got out, my lawyers told me they said he’d been…rehabilitated. He registered and moved away. I…didn’t think I’d ever see him again, but today… He was right there. Marc, I could feel him, he was so close.”

You can feel his body trembling under your hands, and you wonder if telling him was the right thing to do. Marcus is in the FBI. You’ve known this for years, been aware of his career, and telling him about your assault and the fact that the man who did it is still around might not be the best move on your part. He may be your sweet, kind, loving friend — but he’s also a trained law enforcement agent.

“Did he touch you tonight?”

You’re startled back to the moment. “N-no. He just said hi, really casual. I couldn’t even reply. I panicked and ran to you.”

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

You tighten your fingers on his leg, shaking your head viciously. “No. Marcus, no. I don’t even know if he wanted anything other than to say hi…”

“He has no right!” He pushes off the couch, away from you. “He hurt you. And then he gets to come back and pretend he’s just your old teacher? Who the hell let him back into that school?”

You can feel tears pricking at your eyelashes again and you drop your hands into your own lap. “It’s been twenty-four years, Marc,” you whisper. “He’s been out longer than he was in. It doesn’t mean much to anyone anymore, so long as he’s not back to teaching. I’m an adult — they can’t legally make him stay away from me after all this time, not unless he does something again.”

“This is insane,” Marcus roars. “I’m going back. I’m going to confront him.”

“Marcus, no.” You climb to your feet, this time catching his face in your hands. “I wanted you to know but I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”

“He hurt you, Sunny,” he says, gripping your forearms lightly. “Shit, I should have taken you with me when I left that summer.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reply. “Or mine. Legally, he got his punishment. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it now — he’s done his time.”

“But you…”

“I survived, Marc,” you say, the tears falling again. “It’s been hell, but I’m here. And I found you again, so that tells me I did something right.”

“I should have stayed with you. Or taken you with me,” he repeats, and you see his eyes shimmering just the same. “I wish I’d have been here to protect you.”

“You protected me tonight, Marc.” You take a tiny step closer, your body up against his. “God, I’m sorry. I should never have told you.” Letting your hands fall slack, they end up on his shoulders as you press your forehead to his chest. “It’s not on you, at all. I just… I don’t know why, but I needed you to know. Selfishly.”

You feel Marcus’ arms slip around you, careful, like you’re made of porcelain. His lips press to the top of your head, his breath shaky as he holds you again. “Not selfish,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after. I’m sorry you’re still so scared now.” He tightens his grip, just a little. “I never stopped loving you,” he admits, and your heart skips several beats. “And now I wish I’d have told you that before, because maybe things would have been different.”

You lift your eyes to meet his again, and his face is so stained with tears your own threaten to increase tenfold. “I’m sad you left, but I’m glad you didn’t know me right after,” you say honestly. “I wish no one did.”

“And now?”

You sigh, bringing a hand to your face to wipe your cheeks. “Not perfect, but getting better.”

Marcus’ fingers flex against your spine. “Could say the same about me, in some ways.” You giggle despite yourself, and he closes his eyes. “Sorry. Very different scenarios.”

“Don’t apologize.” You drag a line over his collarbone with your fingertips. “What a fucking pair we are, huh?”

His lips quirk a bit. “Chaos as always,” he replies. He lifts your right hand, pressing his lips to your palm. “Do you want to go back? I won’t leave your side for a moment.”

You shake your head. “No. I’m sorry to miss seeing people, and we’ll have to call Kevin and apologize, but I can’t go back there, Marc.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“I need you to stop saying sorry,” you urge. “And I need one more thing from you.”

“What’s that?”

You smile softly for the first time in hours; you know, for the first time since leaving the reunion, that it isn’t the trauma speaking. “Kiss me.”

Shock crosses Marcus’ features, but they’re gone almost instantly and instead, he leans in and captures your mouth with his own, his fingers tilting your chin up to give him better access. In the moment, nothing matters anymore — the past, the trauma, the fear and the pain is all gone as the present takes control and your body reacts to Marcus, back in your arms where he belongs and holding you like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You wake to the sunlight on your face and the feel of Marcus’ arm around your waist, his breath against your forehead. You’d spent the rest of the night making up for lost time, the conversation between kisses moving from careers to families to life in general. You’d fallen asleep first, barely waking up when Marcus helped you from the couch to his bed, only just aware enough to curl into him as he climbed in behind you.

Peeling yourself out of his grip, you slip out of his bed and down the hallway to the bathroom. In the mirror’s reflection, you see your eyes are still somewhat puffy from crying; your lips are slightly chapped from Marcus’ facial hair. Your makeup is smudged and you groan, grabbing the bar soap on the sink to wash your face best as you can, grateful when you spot a bottle of lotion that will at least somewhat make up for the harsh scrub.

Your sweater smells a bit stale, and you slip it off, grateful for the black tank you’d worn underneath it. You peek into Marcus’ medicine cabinet and find his deodorant, using just enough to make yourself feel just a little better and revelling in the spicy scent you know from him now on your own skin.

When you get back to the bedroom, Marcus is stretching, his eyes bleary as he looks down the bed towards you. “I thought you’d left,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

You climb in beside him again, sliding your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his patchy beard. “I wouldn’t do that,” you reply. “Not without telling you.”

He strokes a line along your cheek. “Do you wanna get breakfast at Johnny’s before I take you back to your Airbnb?”

“Mm, that’d be nice,” you reply. I don’t want to go back, though. I want to stay here.

As if he can read your mind, he smiles. “You can bring stuff here if you wanna stay a few more days. I’ll pay off your room fees.” He kisses your nose. “Actually, I’d really like it if you would stay.”

“I think I’d like that too.” You hold his gaze. “Marc?”

“Mm?”

“I’m glad I came home.”

He grins, this time kissing you deeply. “Me, too, Sunny. Me, too.”

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