#me when i don’t even care at all *stares directly ahead in silence for an hour*

[milo-is-rambling]

Guy who gets paid tomorrow but can’t even be excited about it bc life is a lot rn

[thebluestbluewords]

remedial goodness

is a never ending font of potentially disastrous lesson plans.

here’s one way it could go:

“Welcome!” Fairy Godmother says brightly. “Good afternoon, class.” 

Silence. 

“I said, good afternoon, class!” 

Stony silence. Noncompliant silence, even. 

They’re villains, not heroes. They’re not going to beg for approval. 

Finally, she clues in to the fact that they’re not going to respond to her perky overture. A little late, but the potential for learning is boundless at Auradon Prep. Or so the flyers that Carlos has been collecting say. 

Fairy Godmother claps her hands together, like they’re a bunch of babies, and they need a visual cue as well as the verbal ones they’ve been ignoring. “Ah, here in Auradon it is polite to respond when one is being greeted! You say, ‘Good afternoon, Fairy Godmother.’” 

She nods into the resulting silence, like she’s imparting valuable knowledge and then agreeing on their behalf, not talking to herself like every other teacher who’s started right in on the lecture regardless of how many delinquent princes and princesses are blatantly not listening. 

Or maybe Mal’s just projecting, and she’s been the only one ignoring her teachers all day. 

Whatever. It amounts to the same thing, which is that Auradon teachers are a bunch of pompous try-hards. And teenagers here are the same as teenagers back home, which is to say, they’re all terrible people in their own special, unique, beautiful ways. 

“Good afternoon, Fairy Godmother!” Evie chirps after a moment. 

“Oh. Thank you, Genevieve.” Fairy Godmother says, in a small sort of voice. The sort that’s a precursor to the guilt trip, where the adults sit you down and tell you how much they care about your future and how they want you to do your wickedest work for them, because if they don’t see your worst, how will they ever be able to trust you with eviler tasks in the future? “We’ll work on it.” 

Evie flashes her a smile. “It’s just Evie, actually. Genevieve is what my mom calls me.”

Fairy Godmother winks at them.  Like she’s their friend. 

Disgusting. 

“Alright, just Evie. A lady is never just anything, you know. When Cinderella called me up on that fateful night, all covered in ashes, she was still a princess. She just didn’t know it yet.”

“Of course, Fairy Godmother.” Evie says sweetly. 

“Never undervalue yourself, girls. After all, here at Auradon Prep, we made goodness even better!” 

She beams. 

Mal chances a look at the boys. Jay is spinning a pencil around his fingers like it’s a knife, and Carlos is staring directly ahead at Fairy Godmother, face completely blank. 

Evie’s pocket mirror is already out on the desk. 

Yeah, they’re gonna have a great class period. 

Fairy Godmother lets her words hang for a moment, and then claps her hands again. “Er. We’re here today to teach you about goodness, so you can start on the path to a better life here in Auradon!” 

“Better living through pastel uniforms,” Mal snarks under her breath to Evie. 

FG’s head shoots up. “What was that, dearest?” 

Fairy hearing. Right. 

“I said, I can’t wait to start learning. I’m just so excited to hear all about the goodness lessons that you have set up for us!” Mal says, pushing all the false cheer she can manage into her voice. It’s a lot. She’s had plenty of practice skirting the line between lying and just manipulating the truth, and her tone of voice doesn’t count as lying. It’s the actual words that matter. “I just love learning!” 

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, dear one.  Now, I have some textbooks I’ve placed just up here for you. If you would each take one of these, we’re going to start with a little quiz, and then if we have time left over, we’ll jump right in at chapter one!” 

Mal– 

Mal should pay attention. She has a textbook in front of her, passed along by Evie, who got up to grab the whole stack of them to pass out, because she’s a teacher’s pet even in princess-land. She’s got a pencil in her hand, because she’s not stupid, and after a whole day of this shit she’s picked up on the idea that she’s supposed to sit quietly and pretend to take notes in class, 

She’s even got paper in front of her, but every time she puts the pencil to the paper, she just– 

Her brain skitters away from the shape of it. 

She wants the wand. 

She needs it. 

The wand is their ticket out, and now that she’s seen the accursed thing in person, her fingers  are itching just thinking about it. Her mother’s spellbook is one thing, but the wand–

Mal flexes her fingers around the slim weight of her pencil, which is too thin, too sharp, not magical, not heavy and buzzing with the weight of the power inside it. She needs that wand. She’s never needed anything as much as she needs the wand, and her whole body feels strange and fizzy with the feeling. 

The spellbook is fine. It’s  magic too, but it’s old. Worn out. Her mother’s captivity under the barrier has drained the magic out of it, and besides that, Mal’s young. She needs the power of the wand, not a moldy old book. Wands are the tool of the modern magic user. She can practically taste the magic, the buzzing, humming warmth of last night flowing through her again, a little bit sharp, making her mouth water like the canned pineapple they’d saved back home until they could heat it up on their purloined bunsen burner until the syrup went sticky-sweet and the fruit burst hot and sharp on their tongues. 

Fairy Godmother’s magic tastes special. Like nothing Mal’s ever had before. 

She needs it. 

Somebody stomps on her foot. 

Shit. Okay. Magic cravings later, class now. She’s got this shit. 

“I said, does anyone know what to do if you find a bottle of poison!” Fairy Godmother says, with the tone of somebody who’s been repeating herself for a while. She sounds a lot like the younger teachers at Dragon Hall, the minor villains who teach things like mis-spelling and wicked grammar. Sort of impatient, and on the verge of shouting at them about it. 

Just like home. 

Mal scans the board, and immediately identifies the answer Fairy Godmother is fishing for. She doesn’t– 

She doesn’t even want to know what her crew has been doing while she’s been zoned out. 

“C, turn it over to the proper authorities.” Mal says, without raising her hand.  It’s not like they don’t understand the laws governing Auradon, it’s more that the laws are always boring and usually archaic too, and it’s way more fun to ignore them. Being truly evil isn’t about not understanding how to be good, it’s about understanding, and choosing the wrong path on purpose. 

“Correct,” Fairy Godmother says, beaming at Mal. She can’t risk a look at the boy’s desk, not while FG is looking right at her, but if answering one stupid question gets her this kind of praise, Mal cannot fucking imagine what they’ve been doing while she’s been spaced out. Stabbing each other with pencils again, probably. They’re going to get an infection from it, and she’s going to laugh at them both. “Very good, dear. You have quite a bit of promise. Now, in this day and age it’s not very likely that folks will leave their poisons out in the open anymore, not with the advent of digital media. Ignorance is the poison of the mind, after all. If you see someone spreading misinformation on the internet, what should you do to help stop the problem?” 

“Kill them.” Evie chirps. “Cut the problem off at the source, right?” 

Fairy Godmother’s sappy-sweet smile slides right back off her face. “Oh. No, dear. We don’t kill people.” 

“Oh,” Evie echoes, saccharine-sweet, just like Fairy Godmother. “I see. I just think it would be best if we stop the problem right away. Before the information reaches anybody else.”

“And you can. Look, here.” She taps the board, which ripples into a screen. There’s a royal media post pulled up, from an account called RoyalAuradonAcademyUnofficial, which reads– 

‘The sky is green,” Evie reads aloud. “The sun is purple, and the enchanted lake is made of strawberry jell-o.” 

“On royal media, there is a button just here–” she taps the board. “For reporting misinformation. That’s what we do to stop it from spreading. We tell an adult.”

Fairy Godmother beams out at them, confident in the perfection of her lesson plan. Surely, this will teach the awful villain kids how to behave responsibly. Surely, they won’t take this opportunity as inspiration to, oh, set up royal media accounts dedicated to posting an automated feed of bullshit information to anybody unlucky enough to accept their buddy request. 

It’s like she’s never met a teenager before. 

Jay raises a fist. “What’s a jell-o?” 

“Ah–” 

“It’s ground cow’s foot. You can suspend hot dogs inside it,” Evie says helpfully. “I’ve never heard of strawberry jello before, though. It’s probably an Auradon thing.” 

“You’re an Auradon thing.” 

“I don’t think I’d look very pretty suspended in jell-o, actually. My hair wouldn’t set properly. Although I suppose if the whole lake is made of it, maybe it’s a magical thing, and I should be open-minded about giving it a try.” Evie finishes, beaming. “That’s what goodness is about, I think. Staying open minded.” 

“Ah, dear ones–” 

[nburkhardt]

Here is an angsty thing with a happy ending! (Please note: this takes place BEFORE seasons 3 & 4 but after demodogs.)

Pray for the Ground to Swallow Me Whole

He’ll eventually thank her for the domino effect she caused. It’ll be the best thing to happen to him, even if it meant leaving town very premature.

But for now, his heart hurts and his eyes are burning from holding the tears back. For now he’ll stand here and listen to words that’ll haunt him, to faintly be reminded of times when he was an ignorant asshole that only cared about himself and didn’t bother thinking of his actions.

Truthfully, he sorta thought this would happen.

The only ones who actually actively engaged with him was the kids, especially Dustin and Lucas. But if he was being truly honest with himself, a nasty voice in the back of his head always told him they just liked him because he saved them. He tried not letting that get to him.

Currently though? That nasty voice is whispering and it’s not just a voice in his head anymore.

The voice just sounds a lot like Joyce Byers.

“- you did help him and I’ll always be grateful for that. Honestly. But I also remember him coming home from school and telling me about this kid, this jerk who laughed and poked fun at him,” Joyce stops to take a breather, crossing her arms and looking disappointed as if he wasn’t already used to that kind of look, “It actually makes me very uncomfortable to have you around, you have to understand that?”

He choked down a defense and sob, blinked hard before looking away with a nod. Listening to this for the last twenty minutes has broken him down faster than Nancy calling him “bullshit”.

“Yes, Mrs. Byers, I’ll-I’ll leave your family alone”

She nodded, “I’d appreciate that, Steve. But I’m not just talking about my family”

He’s hit with ice and dread. Freezes up and looks back at her, “wha-what do you mean? I’m sorry, I’m confused”

“I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to be around Will and his friends. With my knowledge of what Jon told me about you and the fact you are five years older than them. It would make a lot of their parents uncomfortable too. Don’t you know that?” She’s speaking softly now, like she’s talking to a scared animal.

And maybe she is, he feels like it.

He shakes his head, not to her though. To himself, shaking the memories of hang outs with the Henderson family. Memories of Claudia Henderson making extra food- “just in case, dear! You can even have leftovers for tomorrow!” And Dustin biking over just to tell him about the newest movie he wants to see- “we absolutely have to go, Steve! It’s gonna be a classic, trust me!”

The memory of Claudia hugging him close, telling him “such a blessing, sweetie! You’ll always be welcomed here” that still makes him cry late at night in his empty quiet home.

He avoids looking at Joyce, trying to figure out a way to get away.

“I- uh, I gotta, if you’ll excuse me” he mumbles and doesn’t smile or even look directly at her. Just moves around her to leave, as he walks out and overhears the excited voices calling for him, he ignores them and keeps his head down to avoid showing them how red his cheeks are in embarrassment and how much he’s holding back tears.

Without saying goodbye, he gets into his car and drives.

He doesn’t know how long he drives, doesn’t know where he’s going. Just driving to get away, to avoid listening to Joyce’s words that are already taunting him in his head. Slowly mixing in with “you’re bullshit” and “run away, Steve, always running away!” and all the disappointed sighs and taunts from his father.

The car picks the location for him, gas running low and he’s forced to stop at Lovers Lake. Pulling to a stop and turning his car off, he sits in silence. Staring ahead at the lake, eyes still burning.

It’s a long time as he just sits there. In silence.

Rubbing his eyes to get the tears to go away, there’s no reason to cry. She is right, he was an asshole and it is inappropriate for a eighteen year old to hang around thirteen year olds.

Even more inappropriate to hang around a house where he isn’t welcomed.

He rests his head against the steering wheel, arms around it and his knuckles turning white from how hard his gripping the wheel. His eyes burn and he laughs a bitter sound, lightly hitting his head against the wheel. “Fucking, knock it off, get yourself together” he mumbles and it’s weak, he chokes back another sob as he squeezes his eyes shut.

There’s a knock on his window that makes him flinch hard, eyes are wide and he’s immediately aware of how fucking stupid he was to let his guard down like that. Looking next to him he flinches again, not because he’s scared but because of who’s standing there.

Of all the people to find him right now, during probably his lowest point ever, is the local drug dealer. The twice senior and King of the Freaks, Eddie Munson.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?”

Shaking his head, he rests it back on his headrest taking a breath before rolling the window down. Munson takes a step back, he only knows because of the chains hanging from the guy’s pants.

“All good, Munson” he lies straight through his teeth, he doesn’t need to see how red his face is with how warm it feels. And his hands actually hurt now from how hard he was gripping the wheel, “i didn’t- uh, see anything.”

Since he’s leaning his head back on the headrest with eyes closed, he doesn’t see how Munson reacts. The only noise is just nature, birds chirping and the wind hitting leaves. He doesn’t even hear Munson moving, so opening his eyes he looks over and finds the guy standing there with an odd look on his face.

“Look, I’ll just- fuck,” he knocks his head back before rolling the window up and turning his car off, climbing out and avoiding looking directly at the guy. “I’m gonna just go”

Doesn’t bother waiting for something back, it’s been long enough in his own pity party. Now, he just needs to walk home and figure out how he’ll go about life without seeing the Henderson family and the rest of the kids.

“Are you walking? What the fuck, just leaving your car here?” Munson shouts out at him.

He glances back at his car then at Munson, slowing to a stop. “Why do you care?”

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, why would this guy care whether he leaves his car here? It’s only Hawkins, no one is going to steal his car. You’re more likely gonna come across a monster around than a stolen car.

Especially not at Lover’s Lake. Also why care about him? He’s an asshole and everything Munson hates and loudly announces at lunch.

He shakes his head and starts walking again, taking the silence that Munson doesn’t actually care about him. It doesn’t hurt to admit another person doesn’t like him, he honestly would be shocked if someone did like him.

What really hurts is the fake worry, the questioning, the fake concern and the curiosity.

He’s going to continue to walk home that’ll take him a few hours and will only make it back by dark. Without a weapon, without the bat to hold, because he left that in his car and Munson is still here. Can’t let him ask anymore questions.

“-sus Christ! Jesus, slow the fuck down Harrington!” Munson sounds out of breath, a lot closer too.

He flinches when a hand lands on his arm, “What? What do you want?” He turns and shakes the hand off, “if someone steals it, whatever. It- it doesn’t matter.”

Munson squints at him, looking confused, “Dude, wait, why are you crying?”

Touching his face, he laughs and it sounds so wrong. He is crying, didn’t even realize it was happening. Shaking his head, he turns around and doesn’t bother answering.

“Come on, Harrington!” Munson grabs hold of his shoulder and his grip is rough, “look, I’m sorry if you want to be alone but fuck, dude, you look like shit and crying alone is the worst. So, why don’t I give you a ride to whoe-“

Shaking his head, “like I have anyone to run to right now”

There’s a flash of Claudia and Dustin Henderson in his head and he wants, thinks that they’d shake him and hug him tight if they knew what was said and how it’s haunting him already. Won’t go away, it just brings more tears.

Munson’s silent and his hand drops, leaving behind a faint pressure and that hurts too.

“God, I’m so pathetic right now.”

“Nah, just lonely it seems”

His eyes snap to Munson and his hands are shoved into his jacket, kicking his foot before looking back at him, “I won’t judge, seriously. Let me help, even if it’s just to give you a ride”

“Just a ride?”

Munson nods, “just a ride, unless you change your mind”

He nods, taking a deep breath before stepping towards Munson, “okay, you can, um. Take me home?”

A smile spreads across Munson’s face and he takes his hands out to swing them towards where his van most likely is, “your chariot awaits, good sir!”

Despite his mood and how this might possibly be one of the worst days of his life, he cracks a tiny smile. Just enough to squeeze at his heart, actually.

Walking along side Munson is quiet, it’s a little peaceful. If he remembers correctly, Munson was never this quiet before. Always talking or laughing or yelling, he’s loud and sometimes overly obnoxious.

This is nice. Actually really nice, this quiet with him.

They make it to the van and the ride isn’t the same quiet but it’s still there. He can feel it deep in his bones now.

That this, right here, is peaceful.

Hello! This whole thing originally started back in May and I lost a little interest in this particular WIP, so I stopped and it’s been in my drafts since. Then I kept getting writers block, still have it tbh. But I read it back today and decided I can technically turn this into a two part fic instead of a one shot soo, it’s finally being shared!

I want to be clear that it’s an AU from after the demodogs and everything after that won’t be the same. And that I have nothing against Joyce but I thought “what if it was someone else than made Steve leave/didn’t like Steve?” guess who I picked 😇 plus we have enough Hopper & Joyce adopt Steve fics, we need a little more of them not doing that. Also!! There should be more fics of them being wrong, that they’re being judgmental and need consequences for their words & actions.

Anyway! I’m automatically assuming only a few people will read this far into my rambling. And if you did I love you, you get a platonic forehead kiss ☺️

Permanent Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 19: Déjà Vu

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

The final race of the season was fast approaching, but Charles couldn’t shake the growing pit of anxiety gnawing at him. Everywhere he looked, there were rumors—whispers that Mark wouldn’t be returning next year. He hadn't dared to ask Mark directly, and it was driving him to the edge. Carlos was already leaving to join Williams, and now it felt like he was about to lose Mark too. His friend, his closest ally, and… maybe something more.

Arthur and Lorenzo sat with him, trying to calm him down, but it wasn’t working. The room was filled with tension as Charles’ thoughts spiraled.

“You don’t get it!” Charles snapped, pacing in frustration. “You don’t know how much he means to me! This is all happening again, like last year… but this time it’s real! He might actually leave!”

Arthur looked up, confused. “What do you mean, ‘like last year’? Mark’s not confirmed to leave yet, right?”

Lorenzo nodded in agreement. “It’s all just rumors, Charles. Red bull hasn’t made an official announcement.”

But Charles shook his head, his voice filled with frustration. “That’s what you said last year when I thought I was losing him too, and look how that turned out! Last year, I wanted to tell him… I needed to, but I couldn’t, and I thought I’d never see him again.”

Arthur blinked, surprised by Charles’ sudden outburst. “Wait… you really care about him that much? Like—”

Before Arthur could finish, Charles cut him off. “You don’t get it! I LOVE HIM, OKAY?! I CAN’T LOSE HIM, NOT AGAIN!” His voice broke as the words slipped out, louder than he had ever intended.

A stunned silence filled the room. Charles stared ahead, his heart racing. He hadn’t even realized the weight of those words until now. Arthur and Lorenzo exchanged shocked glances.

“Wait… you love him?” Arthur asked, his voice quiet but filled with disbelief. “Charles, are you serious?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened. “We’re talking about Mark here, right?”

Charles slumped back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “I… I don’t know, okay? I didn’t even mean to say that. I’m just… I’m scared of losing him.”

Later that evening, Charles found himself absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, trying to take his mind off things. But then something stopped him cold. A post from F1’s official account caught his eye. His heart raced as he opened it:

Charles blinked in disbelief, his heart skipping a beat. Mark was staying?! He stared at his phone, trying to process the information. Was this real? Could it actually be happening?

Before he could think any further, his phone buzzed. It was Mark.

Charles hesitated for a moment before answering. “Mark?” His voice trembled, unsure of what to say.

“Hey, bunny boy,” Mark’s teasing voice came through the line. “Miss me?”

Charles blinked, still in shock. “I… are you really staying with Ferrari next season? I just saw the post, and I thought—”

Mark laughed, the sound light and playful. “Yep! Just signed the contract. Looks like you’re stuck with me for another season, mate.”

Relief flooded through Charles, a weight lifting off his chest. “Wait… seriously? You’re not leaving?”

“Nope,” Mark teased again. “Red Bull’s in my rearview now. It’s just you and me at Ferrari.”

Charles laughed, a wave of happiness washing over him. “I thought you were leaving. I was… I was losing my mind thinking about it.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Mark reassured him. “We’re teammates again. Get ready for another season together.”

Charles smiled, relief and excitement mixing inside him. But as much as he was thrilled that Mark was staying, a part of him couldn’t shake the deeper feelings he’d just confessed. He wasn’t ready to confront them yet, but knowing Mark wasn’t leaving gave him some time to figure it all out.

For now, all that mattered was that Mark was staying. That was enough.

---

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent Got a Phone

Vincent got a phone and then Aerith adopted him as her friend, and all kinds of other shit started happening and he's very tired.

ships: valenwind, background sefikura, background aerti

rating: not explicit yet but soooooooo close

Chapter 5: Shut the fuck up, Sephiroth!

“Wait, wait! Everyone calm down! He’s not here to fight! I asked him to come!”

This elicited stunned silence from the group, in which the sound of Cerberus’ hammer clicking back rang out very clearly, followed by Vincent’s deep voice.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Of course I’m going to explain,” Cloud said, trying not to stare directly into the triple barrel, that was now trained on him. “Sephiroth and I have been…talking. He wants to turn over a new leaf. He doesn’t want to be our enemy, anymore.”

“What the hell do you mean, he doesn’t want to be our enemy!” Tifa demanded. “Like that’s something he gets to decide?!”

“I know things have been complicated between us and him, in the past. That’s why he has something he’d like to say to everyone. Go ahead, Seph.”

The angelic, silver haired, six-foot seven-inch tall, black leather clad man stepped forward. “I am very…” He glanced discreetly down at a slip of paper concealed in his gloved palm. “Sony.”

“No—sorry!” Cloud whispered, elbowing him in the side. “You’re sorry!”

“Sorry,” Sephiroth corrected.

Tifa stared at him. “You’re…sorry. After everything you’ve done, you’re just fucking sorry?! You killed my father! Cloud, he killed your mother!!”

“Tifa, please, just hear me out,” Cloud said, in a conciliatory tone. “I know better than anyone what he’s done. That’s why you’ve got to trust me. It’s complicated, and I know it’s hard to understand, right now, but it really wasn’t his fault. He’s just as much a victim in all this as we are.”

“Oh, he’s a victim, is he?” she retorted. “Then who the fuck is the culprit!”

“Shinra.” Everyone turned to look, in surprise, because it was the normally reticent Vincent, who had now spoken for a record-breaking third time, in a single conversation. “When Hojo did this to us—made us into monsters—Shinra not only allowed it, they condoned it. They knew he was committing atrocities, and they stood by and watched, just like they always do. Because they will do anything to grasp more power. No matter who they have to destroy, to do it.”

“Exactly,” Cloud nodded. “The rest of you haven’t been in that place. You can’t imagine what it’s like. And what they did to me, doesn’t even compare to the torture they put Vincent and Sephiroth through. That’s why…I’m going with him.”

“Going with him, where?” Aerith asked. “What do you mean?”  

“First, we’re going to make Hojo pay for what he’s done. He’s responsible for destroying countless lives. But at the end of the day, he’s still just a cog in the machine. After we deal with him, we’re going to take Shinra apart, piece by piece, till not a single brick is left standing. I know this is sudden, and probably seems totally out of the blue, so I don’t expect anyone to help us. But…if any of you want to come with us, I’d be grateful for it.”

Vincent lowered his arm and holstered Cerberus. “I am willing put aside past grievances and cooperate with you, for now. Shinra owes us a debt of blood. I will see it repaid.”

“Well, shit. If Vinnie’s in I’m in,” Cid sighed. “If you’re lookin to take down Shinra, y’all are gonna need a ride.”

“Thank you, guys,” Cloud said. “I knew I could count on you.”

Sephiroth dipped his chin, to Vincent. “Thank you, father.”

Vincent silently returned the salutation.

“Father??!!” exclaimed everyone else except Aerith, who said, “Ohhh. I totally see it.”

“Uh…Vinnie?” Cid asked, uneasily. “Why’s Sephiroth callin’ you father?”

“Because he’s my son,” Vincent replied flatly, still looking across the table at Sephiroth. “But I didn’t know he knew that.”

Yuffie made a face. “So you…with his mother?”

“No. They used my genetic material, without my knowledge. Sephiroth was told his parents were dead. He was raised in a lab, like a specimen. Systematically isolated and tortured, brainwashed into a living weapon, and set loose to commit war crimes, at the age of fourteen. When he learned the truth about his origins, he had a psychotic break, and under the influence of Jenova, defaulted to the only thing he’d ever known: violence.” Vincent turned his crimson eyes on Tifa, one flashing with a hint of gold. ���Given that context, Ms. Lockhart, would it not be fair to say that perhaps, he is not entirely culpable for what he has done?”

Tifa lowered her head, biting her lip in anger and frustration, and Yuffie wrapped comforting arms around her.

“Look, I don’t expect anyone to process all of this, instantly,” Cloud spoke up. “I know it’ll take time to accept. But I asked you all here tonight, because I didn’t want to keep hiding this part of my life from the people I care most about.” He slipped his hand into Sephiroth’s and they interlaced their fingers. “I’m not asking for your blessing, but it’s important to me that you all know where I stand. Because Sephiroth and I are—uh. We’re…together.”

“Oh, ho ho!” Aerith chortled, whipping out her phone to type something on it.

“Ah-ha! That’s why I seen ya goin’ into that love hotel!” Cid asserted, swaying in his tipsy vehemence, but finding himself immediately steadied by a gauntleted hand on the small of his back. “You two musta been meetin’ up, on the sly!”

Cloud looked his way, unhappily. “You were spying on us, Cid?”

“Tch. Hell naw. I don’t have time for that shit. I was mindin’ my own business and I saw ya standin’ right there on the street, out fronta the place. Y’ain’t exactly easy to miss.”

“Tell me one thing,” Vincent said sternly (with his arm still around Cid’s waist). “That night at the Mega Karaoke. You didn’t fall into the door, at all, did you?”

Cloud laughed sheepishly. “Uh. About that. We thought that was our room. Seph was being kind of…playful and pushed me inside. When he saw you guys he poofed, so you didn’t see him.”

“Wow, you two were in such a hurry to get down, that you mixed up the rooms?” Aerith smirked.

“It’s not like it was our fault! That karaoke place should be prosecuted, what kind of assholes have a room 8B and a room B8? What is your numbering system, even?”

“Well, damn,” Yuffie remarked, raising her eyebrows. “Cloud really recruited a world-class supervillain for team good-guys, just like that. How good is that bussy?”

“How good is what?” Vincent asked, looking alarmed.

Aerith giggled gleefully and kept tapping her phone screen.

Tifa was still glaring at Sephiroth, who didn’t appear to notice, likely because his serpentine eyes hardly ever left Cloud.

Cid was rubbing his stubble, thoughtfully. “Does this mean Cloud’s gotta call Vinnie father-in-law now?”

“Never,” Cloud said.

“Please do not,” Vincent said at the exact same time.

“This is fucked!” Tifa shouted, giving everyone a second jolt. “You’re fucking mentally ill, Cloud! This guy is a mass-murderer!”

“Why are you acting so shocked about it?” Cloud asked, frowning. “You’re the one who said you already knew all about us.”

Tifa faltered, taken aback. “I what?”

“That day I ran into you and Yuffie, hiding behind the flower cart. Don’t you remember? You pretended it was a hypothetical, but you said your friend was dating someone who was bad for them and might get hurt. You told me you saw us together, and everything.”

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Tifa said, practically beside herself with exasperation. “I was talking about Aeri and Mr. Valentine!”

Aerith looked up from her phone, wide-eyed. “Eh? Who and who??”

“There’s no use pretending anymore, Aeri!” Yuffie said, pointing a righteous finger at her. “We saw you with Mr. Valentine at the Mega Karaoke.”

“Uh…huh,” Aerith replied drily. “Well, to be fair, you actually saw me with Cloud and Vincent.”

“I saw you and my father alone, together,” Sephiroth interjected. “You were embracing one another.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sephiroth! This doesn’t concern you!” Tifa fired back.

“Yeah, and stop calling Vincent your father, it’s weird,” Yuffie poked her head out to add, then ducked back behind Tifa.

Vincent, meanwhile, had withdrawn his arm from around Cid, and was standing there looking stricken. “You…you all thought that Aerith and I were…together? Cid? You too?”

Cid scratched his head. “Uh. Well, ain’t ya?”

“I confessed my feelings to you, three nights ago,” Vincent said, lowering his voice. “Do you believe I’d have done such a thing, if I were attached to another person? What kind of man do you think I am?”

Now it was Cid’s turn to look gobsmacked. “Y’did what, now?”

“I told you how I feel.”

“Well…yeah. About Ms. Aerith. Didn’t ya?”

“About you! You rejected me. You told me you’d support me but you needed time. You seemed upset and you left rather abruptly.”

“That’s cause I thought you were talkin’ about bein’ soul mates with that little girl!” Cid said, throwing his hands up in vexation. “No offense, Ms. Aerith.”

“Well, offense taken! A lot of offense taken!” Aerith returned, planting her hands on her hips. “You all thought Vincent and I had something romantic going on? And no one even bothered to ask us about it??” She turned her flashing green eyes on Tifa and Yuffie, who flinched visibly. “And I bet it’s all because you two troublemakers started meddling, and confused everyone.”

“In our defense, it was all Tifa’s idea,” Yuffie declared. “She bullied me and made me go along with her crazy scheme.”

Tifa looked theatrically offended. “What?! You shitty brat, I barely bullied you at all!”

“So, thanks to you two and your little witch hunt, Cid and Vincent think they’ve been rejected by each other,” Aerith continued. “And along the way, you managed to scare Cloud into coming clean about his actual secret affair, so now we all have to sit here, watching him be lovey-dovey with mommy-issues mcdoomsday, right in front of our salads! No offense, Sephiroth.”

“None taken,” the heretofore extremely volatile superhuman replied, causing everyone to turn and look at him in disbelief. He straightened up and crossed his arms on his impressive chest. “I thought it was funny. Also, a fairly accurate characterization.”

“Aeri, um…about the Mr. Valentine thing,” Tifa ventured. “We didn’t just pull that out of thin air. You two have been in each other’s rooms a lot, lately.”

“And going out together in public a lot, too,” Yuffie concurred.

“And, again, I did see you embracing in the karaoke room,” Sephiroth put in helpfully.

“Shut! Up!” several people said to him, in unison.

“Yes. I admit it. I was hugging my friend. Fucking sue me!” Aerith retorted, growing surprisingly heated, to the point where her eyes began to glisten and turn pink at the rims. “Girls who are just friends can hang all over each other, all day long, but people suddenly become such puritans, when it’s a man and woman! And just for your information, Ti-chan, you should be more concerned about me going into your room, than Vincent’s! Because I AM A LESBIAN!”

With that, Aerith kicked a chair out of her way and stormed off.

“I’ll…go talk to her,” Tifa said, and hurried after her friend.

“I think we, as a group, need to work on our communication,” Cait Sith said sagely, from the chair beside Cid’s.

“Gah!!” Cid yelped. “What the—where the hell’d you come from?!”

“I’ve been here the entire time,” the feline automaton said, sounding wounded. “The rest of you noticed me, didn’t you?”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, in which everyone (except Sephiroth) suddenly developed an engrossing interest in the carpet or the ceiling tiles. It was into this bewildering atmosphere that the waitress descended, like a suspenders and bow-tie clad angel of mercy, with her notebook and a jaunty smile. “So, how are we all feeling about entrees, this evening?”

Thus it happened that our motely assortment of weirdos (minus Aerith and Tifa) sat down to an awkward, but relatively congenial supper, with the man who’d been the primary antagonist in most of their lives, for the past several years, at least.

If they had any suspicions, however, regarding their erstwhile arch-enemy’s real motives, they were at least somewhat allayed by the disgustingly adoring way he focused on Cloud, as if the young man were his sun and moon, and he could see nothing else.

Cid and Vincent, meanwhile, mostly drank in silence (whiskey based cocktails and red wine, respectively), because whenever they did speak, they kept bumbling and being over-polite to one another, in their mutual discomfiture. Pretty much everyone was relieved when dinner was over. Except Sephiroth and the cat, who seemed entirely immune to embarrassment.

“So, Sephiroth,” Yuffie said, eyeing the monumental man cagily, as the party strolled out of the restaurant. “Are you still, like, batshit insane?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth replied. “But I am…working on that.”

“Are you planning on killing any of us?”

“No.”

“Bearing in mind that destroying the world counts as killing us.”

“I have given up global genocide,” Sephiroth said, glancing at Cloud. “My lover is rather attached to this world, as it turns out.”

“Welp, good enough for me. As long as I never have to hear you say the word lover again, welcome to the team,” she pronounced. “With you on our side, we can totally rail Rufus Shinra’s ass!”

“Seriously, work on your phrasing, Yuff,” Cloud groaned. “It’s getting ridiculous.”

“Huh? What did I say? Cloud! Get back here!!”

“So, uh. We probably oughta talk,” Cid said to Vincent, after they separated from the others.

“I suppose we should,” Vincent agreed, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Shall we go to the hotel garden?”

“Or we could, uh…we could go to my room,” Cid mumbled. “Y’know. Have a cup of coffee, or whatever.”

Vincent paused, scrutinizing him closely. “Are you still drunk?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Cid admitted, flushing pink, under his crimson gaze. “That’s the only reason I got the balls to be talkin’ to ya, right now.”

Vincent arched a black eyebrow. “I trust you are aware what asking a gentleman back to your room for coffee implies.”

“Tch. We’ve shared rooms about a hundred times, Vinnie. Am I supposed to be worried you’ll think I’m a slut?”

Vincent’s crimson eyes glowed a little more intensely, but he looked away quickly, to conceal it. “Coffee it is, then.”

They were already at the walkway intersection, between their two rooms, so Cid led the way, as casually as he could pretend to be—which was to say, not very. Vincent was always just his buddy Vinnie, to him. He fit in the Vinnie category and did Vinnie things, and that’s how it was.

Now that he was looking at his friend from a different perspective, he was suddenly, keenly aware of Vincent as a whole entity, outside their friendship. As it turned out, Vincent Valentine was an extremely intimidating man.

Before he became an actual monster, Vincent had already been a highly trained killing machine. Underlying his general aura of somnolent malaise, Cid was aware of the cold calculation and hyper-competence of the Turk.

Physically, he was a superior specimen. Tall and slender, but agile and astonishingly fast. Despite his ostensible indifference, and tendency to fall asleep standing up, Vincent’s whole being was suffused with quiet ferocity. Cid had seen the man snap out of his apparent ruminant state into decisive and deadly action, enough times to know that Vincent’s languor was a predator’s grace. Like a panther in repose.

And all of that was before one took into account the literal demon under his skin, looking out from that gold ring in his crimson eye, awaiting its moment to burst loose its bonds and drown the world in darkness (which idea Cid found a lot sexier than he probably should have).

His hands shook with nervousness as he unlocked the door, so much that he fumbled and almost dropped the key. But miraculously, he managed to recover, and they got into the room without him making any more excessively embarrassing blunders.

Cid’s room had a sort of steam-punk aesthetic, somewhat like the inside of an airship. It featured exposed brass pipes and other unnecessary but interesting embellishments, and the bedframe had been constructed from the actual fuselage of an old plane.

It had those awful, modern, overhead lights, too, but at the moment, it was lit only by the two lantern-style gas lamps on the wall, on either side of the headboard, so the illumination was warm and diffuse, and not troublesome to Vincent’s eyes.

Vincent took a seat on the distressed leather sofa, in front of the steamer trunk, that served as a coffee table, while Cid set about brewing a packet of hotel-provided coffee in the almost laughably small hotel-provided pot.

“So, uh. About the other night,” Cid began, after he’d placed their mugs on the steamer trunk, and sat down beside Vincent. “I said it already, but I’m sorry for actin’ like a jackass. I misunderstood about as bad as it’s possible to.”

“It was an understandable error, given that there were outside parties interfering,” Vincent replied charitably, blowing the steam off his mug.

Cid shook his head. “It’d be easy to say I had everything all wrong on account of them girls tellin’ me a whole lotta nonsense, but that’s a cop-out. There ain’t no changin’ the fact I made assumptions and didn’t ask ya myself. It’s my own fault. Also, I didn’t know you were…I mean. I never thought to ask, and you never told me. About the, uh. The umbrella.”

“No more umbrellas, please,” Vincent said, with a grimace. “Euphemizing and speaking obliquely is what caused all of this mess, in the first place.” He set his mug back down and looked Cid in the eye. “Cid…I like you. I like you in a romantic, non-platonic way. I’ve never felt this way about a man, and I have no idea how to label or define it. I only know that it is. And it is not a short-lived infatuation, or the impulse of a moment. I have felt this way for quite some time.”

“So…when ya said all that stuff about a person bein’ the missin’ part of ya, and how y’could spend every day with ‘em and never get tired of ‘em…”

“I was talking about you.”

Blood roared in Cid’s ears. He felt his heart pounding and his throat was suddenly dry. He’d thought what Vincent said had sounded a little dramatic and overwrought, the other night, but it struck the ear very differently, now he knew it was about himself. He yanked his goggles off his forehead and tossed them on the trunk-table, then pushed his hands back through his hair.

“You seem troubled by the idea,” Vincent said quietly, from where he’d receded into his cloak, concealing all of his face inside his high collar, except for his scarlet eyes.

Cid scratched his head. “I just…uh. Hoo, boy. I can’t help thinkin’ there’s still some kinda mixup. Y’sure ya like me? Like, wouldn’t you be happier with some fella your own age?”

“Ah. You did mention the age difference as an obstacle, before.”

“I ain’t sayin’ a obstacle per se,” Cid attempted. “I’m just thinkin’ about a few years from now, when you’re a little older. Y’might change your mind about what ya want, and start havin’ regrets.”

Vincent’s black brows knit in confusion. “When I’m older?”

“Well, cause like, I’m in my late thirties. That’s the settlin’ down with a long-term partner phase of life, y’know? You’ll understand once you get to be my age.”

“Cid. I’m fifty-seven.”

“Right, like I was sayin’, when you—” Cid blinked. “Ah…ha ha. I think I’m goin’ deaf, you said twenty-seven, right?”

“I said fifty-seven.”

“What the high-flyin’ fuck you mean fifty-seven?!” Cid sputtered, gesturing wildly with his coffee and nearly splashing it all over himself.

“I mean I’m fifty-seven years old.” Vincent tilted his head questioningly. “You do understand that Sephiroth is in his thirties, correct? And that he is my biological son?”

“Listen, I’m gonna be honest…I figured they grew him up super fast in one of those pods, like in the movies.”

“No, he grew up at the usual speed. Which does mean that I have a son who is nearly your age. The idea of age differences seems to bother you, quite a bit.”

“Oh, that?” Cid waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I was talkin’ about kids in their twenties, all fresh-faced and dumb as shit, just startin’ out in the world. Who gives a fuck about a couple decades, between old-ass men like us?”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “You only call yourself old because you enjoy thinking of yourself that way. Whereas, I am quite literally an old man.”

“Come on, Vinnie,” Cid chuckled. “Ya can’t say you’re an old man, with that face, and expect me to take ya seriously.”

“Then…you like my face?” Vincent asked pointedly.

“Tch. You kiddin’ me? You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t believe you’re real, sometimes,” Cid said staunchly, then realized he’d revealed more than he intended, and became shy (and suddenly understood the appeal of having a cloak to hide in).

Vincent scooted closer, his leather armor squeaking against the leather on the couch. Eyes like scarlet embers glowed in the dim light of the gas lamps, regarding Cid with bloodthirsty intent.

Cid rubbed his hands together and chuckled nervously. “You’re…ha ha. You’re lookin’ at me like a hungry wolf, Vinnie.”

“Cid,” Vincent’s deep voice said softly. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Cid swallowed hard. “O—ok.”

He felt the cold claws of a metal gauntlet, as Vincent’s fingertips rested lightly on his cheek, turning his head. Vincent leaned in closer. So close his black hair brushed against Cid’s forehead. He paused. There was a bit of muffled jingling, as he awkwardly unbuckled his high collar. Then lips softer than any woman’s could’ve ever been were pressed against Cid’s.

Whatever he’d thought it would be like, to be kissed by a man—and his best friend, at that—all his preconceived notions were blown right out the window, when those lips pushed his apart, and Vincent’s tongue slid forward to caress his.

Sage-smoke and leather, and a hint of old books. That’s what he smelled like. He tasted like whatever heaven’s made out of. His tongue was domineering and devastatingly skilled, licking and thrusting and rolling over Cid’s, till he was clinging helplessly to Vincent and gasping for breath, between intense barrages.

He felt more like a chaste woman being ravished by a pirate captain in a romance novel, than he’d have liked to admit, but it felt so fucking good. How come no one ever told him how amazing it was to be on the receiving end of a man’s unrestrained desire?

It occurred to him then, that he could touch Vincent, too. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, it was just that, to lay entirely unworthy mortal hands on this divinity seemed almost blasphemous, so he hadn’t yet worked up the courage.

Steeling himself, he slipped a hand around Vincent’s narrow waist and kneaded the small of his back. To his utter astonishment, Vincent threw a knee over and straddled him, settling his weight on his lap, decisively closing any remaining space between their bodies.

Emboldened by this spectacular result, Cid worked his fingers into Vincent’s heavy, silky hair and tugged gently. Vincent moaned into the kiss and let his head move easily, at Cid’s direction.

Cid’s brain short-circuited, unable to process a reality in which Vincent might like to have his hair pulled. He tried again, a little harder, and was rewarded a breathy gasp, along with feeling that lithe body shudder against his.

The tables turned, then, and Cid was the aggressor, holding Vincent by his hair, invading his mouth, licking and sucking his perfect, pale lips, kissing him like the world was ending.

At long last, Vincent broke the kiss, leaving Cid overheated and dizzy—and so hard he could barely think. A clear thread of saliva stretched out between their lips and snapped, as they drew back, just enough to look at one another.

Vincent’s long, almond-shaped eyes were hazy and heavy-lidded, and his crimson irises were glowing, nearly all gold. His parted lips were wet and swollen, and very slightly flushed. The tip of his tongue traced over his elongated fangs.

“Ha…holy fuck, you’re beautiful,” Cid panted, sliding his hands up onto Vincent’s hips. “The hell you doin’ fuckin’ around with a scruffy bastard like me?”

“Beautiful,” Vincent murmured. Then he stiffened, staring into the middle-distance. The golden embers in his eyes dimmed and darkened. Seeming disoriented, he pushed himself up from Cid’s lap and stumbled back a step, nearly tripping over the steamer trunk, and upsetting a mug of coffee, in the process.

“Vinnie? What’s wrong?” Cid asked, confused and alarmed by this abrupt reversal.

“I—I can’t,” he said hoarsely. His eyes darted around manically, but didn’t seem to focus on anything. “It’s not your fault. I thought I could, but…I just can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, wait, Vinnie hang on,” Cid said hastily, jumping up to stop him. “Don’t run off, let’s talk—”

It was too late. Vincent had already dispersed into a whirl of crimson and vanished.

“—about it.” Cid gave a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God…fuckin’ damn it.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY cat cameo!

one more chapter to go!!!!!!!!! will our intrepid heroes resolve their problems and go to pound town???? (yes they will)

link to prev. chapter

[phoebe-delia]

"Fast Car" WIP Snip

I don't think I've had (a public) one at all this year so far!! This is a fic I started literally just now but I told yall I was gonna do one to "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman and I am pleased to say that I have the first scene!! And you can read it right here!! Yay!!

“You’re not serious.”

Harry shrugged, staring straight ahead and walking past where Draco had dramatically paused in the middle of the sidewalk. Harry slowed his pace, though, and nonchalantly sipped from his to-go cup of coffee. “I think it makes sense.”

Draco moved to catch up, their steps aligning once more. He scoffed, and his breath fogged in the frigid late autumn air. “How on earth—“

“We both want to—“ he briefly interrupted himself, glancing around to make sure no one in the open park was staring or listening in on their conversation. He was certain the Glamour was still holding up, but he could never be too careful in public. “We both want to leave,” he said, keeping his voice low. “It might as well be together. At least that way, we’ll know someone.”

“But we’re barely even friends,“ Draco nearly whispered. “How do you expect us to like each other for that long—let alone live together?”

Harry stopped walking, and Draco did too, letting Harry turn and face him directly. Draco’s eyes were wide and uncertain; he was shivering slightly, his body no longer warmed by their brisk walk. His cheeks had flushed in the cold, the color spreading to the tip of his nose, and Harry suppressed the sudden, potent urge to pull him into his arms and press his lips along the pinked skin. To warm him from the inside out.

“Well,” Harry said instead. “I think ‘barely friends’ is a little unfair. We’ve hung out.”

“Having a drunken heart-to-heart at Luna’s birthday party doesn’t really count, Potter.”

“That wasn’t the only time we’ve hung out just us two.”

“Since when?”

“Since now, arguably,” Harry said with a quick half smile.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, I suppose you sending me an Owl to meet up and proposing this ridiculous idea does count as us ‘hanging out.’ But what about your friends? Your life? Your job?”

Harry waved a hand. “I’ll see them. It’s Muggle America, not Siberia. Besides, I’m tired of the Ministry. It’s…”he trailed off and sighed. “I need a change, and so do you.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. Your mother fucked off to Paris with a man half her age. Your father is rotting in Azkaban where he belongs. You’ve got to be getting lonely in that obnoxious Manor of yours.”

Draco scoffed. “You don’t know me—“

“Don’t I?”

Draco studied him in silence, a bit stunned, before shaking himself. “It’ll never work,” he said, finally.

Harry shrugged. He took another sip of his coffee and grimaced at the drink, now gone cold. He looked back at Draco, who was staring at him with a frown.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry said, tossing his cup in a nearby trash can. “Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do, do you?”

Draco stared for another long moment, and then he huffed a laugh and looked away, shaking his head, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips.

[shamarphillips]

NOT BY BLOOD

Chapter One: The Call

“And that’s all for today, folks. I’ll see you in class next week. Don’t forget to study for the pop-up exam. Some of your lives are depending on it.”

At the sound of Professor Dan’s dismissal, Zara grabbed her things and rushed for the door. It would have been nice if she could have gone home to lounge around all weekend, but she had to punch the clock immediately after.

Her dream of saving up enough money to move to Hollywood was always on her mind, and she knew slacking off wouldn’t get her there.

“Shit!” She was startled by her screeching cellphone while trying to find her keys at the bottom of her purse. “Yeah? Hello?” she answered sharply.

“Hi, I'm trying to get in contact with Zara Hayes. This is Detective Sanders with the Chicago Police Department.”

An unpleasant voice boomed from the other end of the call, making Zara double check the caller ID.

“This is her,” she frowned while getting into her car. “How may I help you?”

“I wish I were calling under better circumstances,” Sanders said. “Unfortunately, this is about your mother. Her body was found in her apartment this morning. It looks like an overdose. I’d like to have you come to the station to identify her. Also, children and family services are here with your sister, Amara.”

Zara felt tightness in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in weeks. Being so busy with school, work, and the maintenance of her relationship, she barely had time to take a breath.

Even though her relationship with her mother wasn’t the best, Zara loved her. Through all of their ups and downs, makeups and breakups, she kept an open space in her heart and hoped that things would get better for them.

“Ms. Hayes?” Detective Sanders sliced through her silence. “Are you there?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, fighting back tears. “Yeah. I'll be there shortly.”

Zara’s tears fell the moment she left the parking lot. Accepting the reality that it was too late to bridge the gap was tough for her. It was even tougher when she thought about Amara and how afraid she must have been. Even though Amara treated her like an enemy, they were still sisters, and Zara still cared about her.

When she got to the police station, she threw her car in park and raced for the entrance. Immediately, she asked for Detective Sanders and was escorted directly to his office.

The door swung open and revealed a tidy room, bland in color, and full of stale cigarette smoke. There was also Amara, sitting in front of his desk wearing torn jeans and sunglasses. A social worker sat on a leather sofa in the back of the room, and everyone just kind of stared at each other. Waiting for someone to speak first.

“Zara Hayes?” Sanders asked.

She nodded, her eyes fixed on Amara as she waited for her sister to look at her.

“Come in. Have a seat.” Sanders invited Zara to take the second seat in front of his desk. “Mrs. Carter from Children and Families will want to speak with you. In the meantime, I’ll fill you in on what’s going on and how we move forward.”

Zara sat down next to Amara. The tension between them was thick and unwavering. Amara rested her chin on her fist as she stared straight ahead, without a single ounce of emotion on her face.

Her calmness was offensive to Zara and made Detective Sanders uncomfortable. However, neither of them spoke on it. Since the incident was still fresh, they figured Amara was in shock.

“Are you two real sisters?”

Zara looked at Sanders as if the answer should have been obvious.

“No. My mom married her dad when we were younger.”

“Where is dad?” Sanders asked while jotting notes on his notepad.

“Who the hell knows?” Amara scoffed. “Son of bitch walked out and left me with them. Isn’t that something?”

Zara winced at her tone. It was harsh and dry, just like her attitude toward their mother’s death. It was no secret that Amara felt out of place most of her life, but their mother never gave up on her. Not even during her own struggles.

“Well, as of right now, her death is ruled as stated. If anything changes or I have any additional questions, I'll be sure to reach out to you. If you have any questions for me, I'm always available. Mrs. Carter will be your social worker and help you fill out the paperwork to accept guardianship of Amara. Since she is still a minor and you’re the only next of kin we could find.”

“Wait, what!?” Zara jumped to her feet. “Guardianship?”

She looked frantically at Mrs. Carter, who finally made her way to the front of the room, then back at Detective Sanders.

“What do you mean guardianship? I’m only 23. I can’t take care of a teenager by myself. I have work, school. I have a life. I can’t just put everything on hold until she’s 18.”

“Of course she wouldn’t take me,” Amara chuckled sarcastically. “She can barely take care of herself. Besides, I'll be 18 in two years. I can figure out my own shit. Just like I've been doing since she left.”

Zara’s eyes filled with sorrow. She didn’t mean to sound so uninviting, but the thought of being responsible for another human being terrified her. It had only been a few years since she moved out of her mother's home, gotten over the nightmares she faced while living there, and finally started making her way.

“It’s not that I don't want you to live with me, Amara. I just. I don’t know. This is all so sudden. I haven’t even wrapped my head around the fact that mom’s dead.”

“Yeah, well, you better start wrapping,” Amara shot. “Anyway, it’s fine. I don’t have to live with you. I can stay with friends until I find my own place.”

Mrs. Carter observed their interaction and knew the situation would be a challenge, so she said she’d make other arrangements.

Zara felt guilty about that. She knew those other arrangements would be foster care and group homes, and that was the last place she wanted Amara to end up. At the rate she was going, Zara knew her sister would more than likely end up on the streets.

“Wait,” she sighed and took her seat again. “Amara and I have such a strained relationship, but we are sisters. Mom would want us to be together throughout this.”

She looked softly at Amara, who still hadn't removed her sunglasses. Her jaw clinched as she fought back tears she thought no one could see, and for the first time in a while, Zara held onto her hand.

“She can stay with me,” she spoke proudly. “I’ll sign whatever paperwork I need to sign and take whatever steps we need to to make life as normal as possible.”

Detective Sanders looked surprised. Mrs. Carter too. Though she’d run into the same scenario a dozen times and it never ended well, she had hope for Zara and Amara.

“Alright then,” Mrs. Carter said. “I’ll see you in my office tomorrow so we can discuss the details. For now, I'll let you two get out of here so you can start your healing process.”

As everyone cleared out of Detective Sanders office, he russled through some things he snagged from the scene. When he found the pink envelope with Zara’s name on it, he stopped her.

“I found this. The stamp is still fresh and unmarked, which means your mother hadn’t had a chance to put it in the mail. I thought it might help you with your healing.”

Zara took the envelope into her hand and traced the edges with her finger. Tears filled her eyes as she removed the sheet of paper and read her mother's last words.

Zara,

I love you, and I'm proud of you.

Things have been different, and I wish I could go back in time every day. Life has just been so hard with Amara.

I’m fearful of how she’s turning out. So full of rage and anger.

Although my time is consumed by her behavior, I couldn't go another day without telling you how proud I am of you.

I miss you dearly.

Love, Mom.

FOLLOW THIS STORY ON WATTPAD AND INKITT.

But of course, i'll be back to share more

[hesjustlines]

512

based on a true story

“Shit, I have to let you go.”

“Wait, why?”

“The bus is packed; I don’t want to be one of those assholes.”

“Fair. Call me later?”

“Yeah. Love you.” Sade hangs up just in time to dig her bus pass out of her pocket and join the disjointed line of people filing into the double-decker. “Damn,” she mumbles. It’s obvious all the seats on the first floor will be full by the time she gets on the bus. Sade shuffles her feet, sticking close to the person in front of her without being so close it feels like an invasion to both her and the stranger. Ahead of her, the people scanning their cards have started filing up the narrow staircase just inside the bus. Sade tips her head back in a silent groan. She’s only been on a double-decker bus once and the novelty of the top level had crumbled the second she realized just how cramped and claustrophobic it is.

One of the people in the line next to Sade’s starts to take bigger steps as their lines begin to merge. Sade side-eyes them, familiar with the body language of a commuter who’s going to push their way through the rest of the people trying to get on the bus. If she cared, Sade would accept the silence challenge and attempt to bully her own way onto the bus, but she’s resigned herself to a seat on the top deck and it ultimately doesn’t matter if that seat is in the front or the back. She slows her own steps and lets the commuter step on the bus first. Sade scans her pass next and trudges up the steep, narrow steps. Almost all of the seats are taken on this floor, too, and Sade is lucky to snag the window seat directly behind the guardrail.

Sade settles into the plush seat of the suburb bus, a welcome change from the cold, hard chairs in the city buses. They almost make up for how horrendous the transit system is outside of the city. Sade pulls her overstuffed backpack into her lap and digs through it for her headphones, shoving them into her ears and pressing play on whatever music she’d been listening to before her sister called. She doesn’t pay any attention to the rest of the people filing onto the bus until the last man makes it up the stairs. Sade offers him a cursory glance before turning back to her phone and its dying battery. She’s preparing for a bus ride spent staring out the window writing essays in her head about everything going on in her life, when the last commuter swings around in her periphery and throws himself into the open seat next to her.

Sade manages to stifle her flinch at the sudden movement and invasion of privacy. The man relaxes into his seat, knees and elbows bumping into hers. Sade shifts slightly, angling her body towards the window to create even the illusion of personal space. She makes sure not to glance over at her new seat partner, all too familiar with the way some people seem to think eye contact is an invitation to talk. The bus starts to move, pulling away from the transit station and headed for the freeway. Sade leans her head back against the seat and settles in for a mildly uncomfortable ride.

Sade tries to stay off her phone and embrace the opportunity for reflection that’s presented itself. She’s about to turn her phone over to check the nonexistent notifications when the man sitting next to her lets out a harsh laugh. It cuts through the silence of the bus and the music pounding through her headphones. He doubles over, cackling. Sade stares out of the corner of her eye, gawking secretly. The man laughs two more times, loud and abrasive, before sitting up straight abruptly. Sade averts her eyes as fast as she can, staring dutifully ahead. She waits a couple seconds before shifting to tuck herself further against the window. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now Sade catches the strange smell wafting off the man. It’s saccharine, sickly and nauseating, like someone doused a dead thing in perfume. The man shifts. Sade steals a glance out of the corner of her eye and goes completely still. Even without turning her head, she can see the whites of his eyes as he stares at her head on. Her eyes slowly slide back to look forward, heart pounding. The minor claustrophobia of the top floor of a double-decker bus is nothing compared to what she’s feeling now, trapped between a window that doesn’t open and the stare of a stranger. She feels it when he stops looking at her, barely sees the way his body shifts to face forward again. Sade lets out a slow breath and looks out the window.

Sade takes the bus almost daily; odd interactions are nothing new. The man next to her certainly counts as an odd interaction, but Sade has endured worse and soon the jarring laughter fades into just another bizarre story to tell her friends. The bus starts merging into the far lane of the freeway and Sade straightens up, hoping the upcoming transit station is her seat partner’s destination. She waits with bated breath as the bus starts up the ramp. It stops and her heart sinks when the man stays comfortably slouched in his seat next to her. Sade pouts and tips her head against the window, once again resigning herself to the mildly uncomfortable ride. The bus starts moving again, merging back onto the freeway.

Sade flips her phone over in her hand and watches the screen come to life. There are still no notifications, and a quick battery check reveals she’s running on 17%. She’s considering stopping her music to conserve power when the man barks out another laugh. He doubles over, cackling in exactly the same way he had the last time. This time, Sade turns her head to get a good look at the man. She can’t see his face, but he looks like the average commuter. He’s wearing a faded orange flannel over a deep grey hoodie and jeans. Sade looks away, and then looks back again. She almost hadn’t noticed it before, but the fly of the man’s jeans is unzipped and wide open. A sick feeling settles in her stomach as she glances at his hands, braced on his knees while the man continues to cackle into the ground. Sade pushes herself impossibly closer to the window.

The almost robotic laughing stops and Sade can feel the man’s eyes boring holes into the side of her head. Her grip tightens around her phone as she sends a mildly panicked look at the people in the front of the top deck. They’re all facing forward, oblivious. Sade’s heart pounds in her chest while she stares out of the window. It feels like the man stares at her for ages this time, and she swears she can see his eyes out of the corner of her own, wide and white. She doesn’t know when he stops. The smell has gotten stronger and soured, like fruit that’s begun to rot. Sade grimaces and hopes he gets off at the next station.

The next station is the biggest, and Sade watches as half of the top deck passengers get up and file down the stairs. A few of them send curious glances over their shoulder at Sade and her unsettling seat partner as they pass, but none of them seem as alarmed as she is. Sade considers getting off the bus herself and just waiting for the next one, but as she starts to turn her head, she feels the man’s eyes on her again. She seizes up, blood thick. Slowly, Sade moves her eyes to look at the man’s lap again. His hands are nowhere near his open fly, but it does nothing to calm her pounding nerves.

He stares at Sade until the bus is moving again, pulling away from the station. Sade watches the other commuters fly by through the window and dread settles in her like a weight, compressing her chest and throbbing behind her eyes. Sade pulls out her phone to send a text to her sister, but the man’s eyes are on her again. Sade holds her breath, waits for him to do anything other than stare. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches his gaze drop from her face to her phone screen. Sade turns it over slowly, and the man turns to face forward again.

The double-decker bus continues on its route and Sade sits frozen in her seat and watches the commuters around her leave their seats and file down the narrow staircase to the exit. Her stop is the very last one, and Sade is almost always the only person left on the bus by then. She holds onto that shred of hope, but with each station, the man stays slouched in his seat. At the second to last station, the last person gets up and heads towards the stairs. Sade watches in silences as they start down the steps but stop before their head disappears completely. They turn and look at Sade, eyes flickering between her and the man next to her. Sade widens her eyes, begging them to say something. The man doesn’t move at all. The commuter looks at Sade one more time before continuing down the stairs.

Sade nearly bursts into tears when the bus pulls away from the station. She stares straight ahead and tries to control her trembling hands. She sees the man shift in her peripheral vision and shuts her eyes. She can’t stifle the flinch when he starts laughing this time. It’s so forced, robotic and uniform in a way a natural laugh could never be. It sounds painful, like the man is shredding his vocal cords to be able to produce the sound. Sade opens her eyes slowly and a stray tear makes its way down her face. The man is inches from her, staring Sade down and cackling into her ear. She can feel his harsh breaths against her face. All she can smell is rot, syrupy and putrid, rancid and curdling the air around her. Sade gags and the man cackles. She stares ahead, eyes burning, and watches as the bus nears the final station.

The laughing stops when the bus does. Sade watches in silent horror and anticipation as the man pulls himself out of his seat to stand in the aisle. Sade bolts, scrambling across both seats and stumbling to the staircase. She can still the man in her peripherals, catches the movement as he throws himself back into the seat. The last thing she sees before rushing down the steps are the whites of his eyes.

[yunhohours]

can i request hard dom yangyang with 2 and 88? thank youu

2. “So desperate for it, aren’t you? Well, if you want it so bad, you better start taking it.” 88. “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”

a/n: i wrote hate sex oops

“It’s you? Great.”

What a warm welcome.

“Nice to see you too, Yangyang.”

You drop your bag near the door as it bangs closed, leaving way too much silence in the big room occupied only by you and Yangyang. He’s looking at you in the mirror–no, glaring–and it’s already difficult to keep things professional.

You know Yangyang doesn’t like you. He’s had to work with you many times and, needless to say, he has not been happy about it once. You don’t let him slack. When you’re going over a new choreography with him, you’re on his ass. You know the subtleties make all the difference, so even if he “technically” did it right, if he didn’t do it with the right attitude or emotion, then he never did it right to begin with. He must be used to getting by on being “good enough,” and you’re sure his handsome face and charm help too. It’s too bad for him that it doesn't work on you. 

You weren’t even supposed to be here today. He was meant to practice his upcoming solo with one of the other girls. But the one that was scheduled called in sick and you were the only one available for him. It seems no one filled him in on who would be practicing with him. There isn’t even a buffer of other backup dancers to mitigate the tension. This project of his has a minimal but intricate choreography: just Yangyang and the girl dancing with/on him. 

It's going to be a long night. 

“Let’s just get started. The quicker we get everything down, the quicker we can go home.” Your voice is flat and lifeless, taking a big swig from your water bottle to prepare yourself. You already stretched before coming and Yangyang was left instructions to do the same before you arrived. Not to mention, you had to spend the entire day learning this choreography just to be here for him tonight. You were more than warmed up. 

Practice starts off exactly as you expected it would. Yangyang is half-assing moves and looking bored out of his mind. You know it’s not that he doesn’t care about his performance. He’s just doing it to bother you and show you how unimpressed he is with the situation. Silly. That only means he has to spend even more time with you. Until he gets it right. 

“Hey,” you sneer, slapping his hand as it rests under yours. He’s standing behind you, his front glued to your back, palm flat on your lower belly. His position is right. But he’s looking off to the side like maybe something will come rescue him. He’s not present. He’s not emoting. You’ve gone through this section upwards of 20 times already and he just will not put his feelings aside. 

Frankly, you’re tired of being professional with someone who can’t give you that same sense of professionalism back. 

“Can you stop being a fucking baby and do this right so we can go home already? I’ve been working my ass off for you all day. Show some appreciation for once in your life.” You’re staring straight ahead, glaring at the side of his face in the mirror. You’re not fucking around anymore. 

He turns his head to face forward—where he should have been facing the entire time—and he meets your eyes in the mirror. His are black. Cold. His fingers curl up, fisting the material of your small shorts as his hand remains in place on your body. “Did you just call me a fucking baby?” His eyes don’t waver. He’s testing you. 

You choke back a laugh and you can feel it pisses him off, his fingernails digging into your skin under your bunched clothing. You don’t look away either. You’re not afraid of him. “Yes, I did. Does that bother you?” 

The words are barely out of your mouth before Yangyang’s free hand is gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him directly. He leans close so he can seethe his words through his teeth. “Do I look like a fucking baby to you?” His grip on your jaw is so tight that you’re reluctant to give him a verbal response at all. 

You try to pull your head back and free yourself from his grasp, but he’s stronger than he looks. In the process, you stumble back a bit, further cementing your body to his. Much to your surprise, you feel something all too familiar against your backside: a stiff, hungry cock, covered only by the grey sweats adorning Yangyang’s hips. You can’t help but smirk. This little fucking pervert. 

That’s okay. You’re a pervert too. 

You glance toward the mirror, trying your hardest to get a good look at him in his entirety despite him holding your face still. He looks good. He always does, obviously. But you’re normally too annoyed with him to care. 

But this time… his loose grey sweats, his oversized white tee that’s sticking to his body here and there from sweat. His long blonde hair also dripping with sweat. The veins in his forearm protruding as he holds your face with such force. You can feel your panties dampening at the sheer sight of him. 

You let your eyes—glittering with mischief—float back to Yangyang’s. You enunciate every word as you speak, knowing it will piss him off even more. “I don’t know. You’re sure acting like a fucking baby though.”

Yangyang curses under his breath. His hand lets go of your shorts, only to grab a proper fistful of them this time, and pulls up. You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as this motion pulls you up onto your tiptoes, your shorts and your panties roughly pulling up against your cunt. It burns but in the best way and in the best place. He turns your face back to the mirror to make you look at yourself practically floating in his hold, a cunt wedgie under his control. 

“Guess I’ll have to show you how wrong you are. There’s nothing baby-like about me.”

You laugh and lean your head back against his chest. “Mm, is that right? I guess you’ll just have to prove it.” Your tongue snakes over your bottom lip, taunting him.

He releases his grip on both your jaw and your shorts at the same time. For a second, you feel panicked. Is it really over already? Fuck, how embarrassing. 

It’s just when you’re about to move, to pretend like that didn’t just happen, when Yangyang’s hand tangles itself in the back of your hair and pulls, forcing your head to tilt up. The delicious moan this pulls out of you makes his cock twitch in his sweats, but he’s not done with you yet. His other hand ghosts down your stomach and dips inside your shorts this time. 

He doesn’t touch you where you want him to. Where you’re dripping wet for him. He grazes the skin around your lower lips with feather light scratches. He’s so so close but he’s being such a tease. You squirm against him and he hisses from the friction. 

“Yangyang, fuck. Will you just—“

You’re cut off by him cupping your heat, making you gasp. He still isn’t touching you in a pleasure-inducing way but him groping you as he pleases is really fucking doing something for you.

“Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” You both know the answer and he knows it, the smug smirk on his face striking a balance between infuriating and mouth-watering. You decide to poke the bear. 

“Hmm, too scared to touch me, are you? Maybe you are just a little baby boy after all.”

That’s all it takes. Without warning, Yangyang plunges two fingers knuckle deep inside of you, chuckling at the way the attitude on your face melts away, replaced by sheer pleasure. “Mm, not such a little baby boy now, am I?” His words are a hot whisper on your ear, your neck. His fingers are already curling, seeking out that one special spot. It doesn’t take him long to find it. 

“F-fuck,” you groan, legs shaking and hands grasping behind you at Yangyang’s clothes for some stability. 

“Look at you,” he mock-coos. “Such big talk from someone who gives in to me so quickly.” 

His fingers are fucking into you so fast that you’re vibrating and struggling to maintain any focus or composure. You stutter through half-baked moans. “F-fuck you.”

Another laugh. He pulls your head further back by your hair until you’re looking up at him. He watches as your eyes glaze over, your body limp against his from so much stimulation so quickly. When he can tell you’re about to cum on his fingers, he quickly removes them from you and releases your hair, nudging you forward as if he’s done with you. 

Fuck that.

You turn around, eyes like daggers. He’s got that shit eating grin on his face, just waiting for you to do or say something. He lifts his hand to his face and sucks your juices from his fingers one at a time. He’s infuriating. And so goddamned sexy. 

“Knew you were a little fucking baby. Can’t even finish what you started.”

You shift your focus away from him and towards your bag by the door, heading for it. You’re bluffing, but you will leave if he doesn’t play this right. 

You don’t make it far past him before he grabs your forearm, pulling you back into him. He spins you around so you’re facing away from him, instructing you with a barely audible voice. His tone is dripping with lust. “On. The. Floor.”

You’re quite sure you know what he means. But you’re you. 

You carefully lay yourself on the floor, holding your upper body up on your elbows. You pull your knees up too, letting your legs swing open and closed as you look up at him with defiance. You can feel the heartbeat of your cunt as he stands over you. 

“Aww, are we going to play?”

Yangyang sinks onto his knees suspiciously slow and leans over you, face so close you can smell mint on his breath. His eyes are roaming your face and his lips seem to be positioning themselves to kiss you. When he leans down further, you close your eyes, anticipating a kiss that never comes. 

Instead, you hear him scoff, his hands quickly finding their way to your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. You whine from the surprise, but the feel of Yangyang’s hand slithering under your body to press against your stomach, pushing your ass into the air for him is intoxicating. 

Your hair is a mess over your face as you turn your head to the side, looking for air in this suffocatingly hot room. You feel drunk on whatever the fuck is going on here. 

“You never know when to stop talking, do you?” 

All you can do is smile. You’re finding you love it when he talks to you like this. Normal Yangyang is annoying. Angry Yangyang is a walking wet dream. 

You gasp when his hands suddenly yank down your elastic shorts, dragging your underwear down with them. You hum as you hear the sound of his drawstring being pulled loose. You whine again when you feel the head of Yangyang’s cock sliding between your folds, teasing you. You’re already too close to cumming from all the tension. 

“God,” you exhale, feigning annoyance. “All little boys know how to do is play.” Your words are biting but the pathetic moans peppered between them are all too telling. 

Yangyang sucks a sharp breath between his teeth. You really know how to rile him up. “So desperate for it, aren’t you? Well, if you want it so bad, you better start taking it.”

And just like that, Yangyang thrusts his full length into you, a loud groan of relief echoing off the walls. You, on the other hand, are rendered silent, open mouth and closed eyes. Your body is quivering already, your orgasm only moments away. 

Yangyang can tell too. His hand travels up your spine until it does something it seems to do a lot: grab a fistful of your hair. He pulls until your heavy head is facing the mirror, eyes open. “Watch. Watch as I fuck you through this orgasm and ruin you. You’ll never be able to cum for anyone else.”

Holy fucking shit. His confidence and self-assured tone make your cunt flutter around him. And as if on cue, Yangyang gets to work, ramming himself into you with so much vigor your body is bouncing back and forth from the blows.

You pray to every god that no one can hear inside this room. Your moans are so loud and pitiful, you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so busy having the fuck of your life. By now, you’ve given up the attitude. You don’t have the brain power to maintain it when all you can concentrate on is the fullness of Yangyang’s cock in your warm, little cunt. 

And just like his fingers, his cock is quick to find your sweet spot, relentlessly attacking it until you’re spasming and covering his shaft in your cream. 

You instantly feel sleepy after you cum, whimpering as he continues to fuck you through your comedown. You feel like your body is too heavy, your eyelids too heavy. You could just collapse on the floor and lie there for days, you’re sure of it. 

But there’s no time for that as Yangyang chases his own high. Instead, you watch the reflection in the mirror through low lids. You see yourself, fucked out and practically—no, literally—drooling on the floor. You see Yangyang, fully in control of your body. You’re not sure when he took his shirt off but now you can see the glisten of sweat on his chest and abdomen. If your body didn’t weigh six thousand pounds right now, you might just try to sit up and lick some of it off. 

“Fuck, how are you so tight?” Yangyang groans, head snapping up to face the ceiling, eyes closed as he tries to not lose control of himself. It doesn’t seem to be working though and you can’t tear your eyes off him. The way he grits his teeth. The way he pushes back his sweat-soaked hair when it falls in his eyes. The way his hand is definitely leaving bruises on your hip. The way he circles himself inside you when he slows down, moaning instead of groaning. 

The way his brows knit together and his jaw slackens when he orgasms, hips stuttering. The way he stays put inside you as he tries to catch his breath. The way his cum leaks down your thighs when he pulls out of you. The way he falls onto his back, spent, content to just lie on the floor in silence. 

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s finish up this practice.”

Oh, he’s really going to hate you now. 

[tragedyofdevotion]

Daily life of a master

Lucifer & Envy

Lucifer may be an avatar of Pride but that does not mean he is immune to other sins.

This tells about a day in which the prideful eldest is faced with a petty feeling called "jealousy".

Lucifer x f! reader, implied demon brothers x f!reader

Contains hints of yandere and suggestive tones of sexual interaction

“Lucifer, may I come in?”

You knocked on the door, holding a small kitty in one hand.

Lucifer was looking at the documents when he heard your voice on the other side of the door. All of his exhaustion seemed to disappear and he quickly looked up towards the entrance.

“Yes, of course,” he said, trying not to show too much of his eagerness.

However, his subtle smile faded away when he saw that feline in your arms.

Detecting his worsening mood, you quickly said, “Before you say anything, Lucifer, can you please hear me out first?”

“Go on.”

He was a bit vexed at the sight of the cat, but he decided to listen to your story. He could not very well kick you out of his office, after all.

“I found this little guy last week. He was about to give out in the rain alone. That was why I decided to treat him a little before he became better. But now, I am too attached to let him go. So, I am wondering, if you, maybe, allow me to keep it at the house of Lamentation. Of course, I promise that I will take care of it well and I will make sure the whole family of cats will not come to stay with us. So, can I….? Please…?”

You tried to put on your cutest puppy face.

“First, no you will not. Second, you are bad at lying. Third, Satan, I know that you are eavesdropping.”

After he said that, the door opened with a "Tch!” and Satan appeared.

“If you already knew, you should have said so from the start. Why waste my time?”

“I thought he would allow it if y/n was the one asking,” he murmured under his breathe.

The younger brother came in and took the cat from your hands. “I now understand your inflexible mind. Y/n, I am going to look for a new home for this kitten. You will come with me, right?”

"Okay.”

“No, she will not. I have something important to talk to her about. You may go ahead alone.”

Grumping, Satan went out of the room with his cat.

…

“So, Lucifer, about earlier, how did you know it was Satan's idea? I thought my acting was perfect.”

“Did you think you can lie to me? Me, the eldest avatar of sins? And that story was too unrealistic. You, who did not even love cats, suddenly had the urge to adopt one? Even Mammon can make up a better story.”

“How did you know I don’t like cats? I have never told anyone in Devildom.”

“It was so obvious. Did you really think you had me fooled? I know that you don’t like dealing with any pets. You were just going along with Satan because you did not want to hurt his feelings, right?”

“Yes…”

“Why are you so indulgent towards Satan? You go along with his pranks, too, but you are strict when it comes to Mammon and others’ antics. Don’t tell me… Is Satan your favorite?”

Suddenly, he closed in on you, and cornered your form, successfully caging you between his arms and the wall. You did not have the time to squeal over the famous "kabedon" as he held up your chin tightly with one hand to meet your gaze. Even the romantic scene you had watched in many animes became so scary when one of the most powerful demons in existence was glaring at you with hungry eyes.

“No, of course, not. I have told you guys over and over that I love all of you equally, did I not?”

He continued to stare into your eyes, with so much intensity that it felt as if he was looking directly into your soul.

After a few more seconds of agonizing silence, he finally let go of your face.

“It would do well for all of us if you were to keep your words.”

“That was scary,” you thought to yourself. Your demons were nice most of the time but occasionally they became quite frightening. But you don’t know what is the trigger for their sudden switch.

“If you are done, may I go back to my room? I have so much homework left to do.”

As you are turning away, Lucifer caught your hand.

“You know there is no way I will let you go like this, right?”

He hugged you from behind, his hands unbuttoning your blouse. He kissed your neck and whispered into your ear.

“You tried to lie to me. I will have to teach your body so that you will never be dishonest towards me ever again. Don’t you think so?”

You sighed internally because you know you will not finish your assignments any time soon.

[paetalks]

head empty only mattsukawa issei crushing on his little sister’s babysitter.

he can’t get over how pretty you look, with your hair up in a ponytail and a smile that widens every time his sister speaks to you. mattsun watches from afar, laying down on the couch, while you make a sandwich for the little girl.

he usually takes care of his siblings, but lately he’s been busy with practices and tournaments and his time off has been hard to manage. his mom had heard about you through some of of her friends: a young high schooler that helped people around with their kids and their house for just a few yen per hour - it was more of a side business for you, just to avoid always asking your parents for money and having some savings of your own. you have been working for the mattsukawas for a little while, but today, however, is the first time issei is actually home with you there as well.

“mattsun!!!!” his sister yells, running up to him holding sandwich full of what looks like raspberry jam. the boy looks directly at her with a soft smile. he wouldn’t say it out loud so often, but he does love his siblings so very much - and likes to take them out for ice cream every-time he can. “yes?” he answers, leaning towards the little girl.

“look, y/n made me my favorite!” she waves the sandwich in front of her brother, pointing at you then adding “she is the best.”

you stand there with a kind smile, kneeling a little towards the six-years-old. “you are the best,” you reply, patting her head. mattsun’s eyes are already on you when you looked at him. he is smiling, almost smirking, and you feel you mouth instantly dry. he looks like he is about to say something, but the just stares at you in silence. your eyes widen as you straighten up, walking back to the kitchen with a frustrated expression - the little girl still there, sitting with her brother on the couch.

you quickly put the plate and knife you used to make the sandwich in the dishwasher, while trying to stop thinking about mattsukawa that way. of course you know who he was, and you had known all along, but it never really mattered. you guys go to the same school, although he is a year ahead of you and way too popular to be one of your acquaintances, so you didn’t think his presence would have caused you some kind of reaction when you first got the job. yet, today, his piercing eyes seem to be fixated on you endlessly and this might represent a minor inconvenience you did not think about.

“you can leave everything there, i’ll take care of it later.” and there he is, as if you summoned him with all this thinking. you gasp lightly because you did not even see him enter, not even with the corner of your eyes, yet manage to say “don’t worry, i can do it. i kinda get paid for it.”

his eyes are all over you, lazy yet curious. “you are paid to take care of the child,” he argues, then points at his sister, sitting on the couch with her sandwich, watching some sort of tv show. you bite your lip almost unconsciously, and his eyes are quickly looking down at it - thank god, you didn’t notice. he has been thinking some stuff about you since you were first introduced and now these ideas are running wild. “i do help around the house from time to time too. i don’t mind, really” you explain, smiling softly.

he shakes his head with a chuckle, which makes you frown because you didn’t say anything funny. “you’re too perfect, a real angel” he comments, and now your cheeks are red again. “w-what?” you start mumbling, but he’s already gone, back to the couch where his number one fan, his sister, is waiting for him.

after a couple of minutes, you head back as well and pretend you were not affected at all by what he said. sitting down across from him, you can still feel him staring - but also, another couple of bright eyes are now focused on your moves. the little girl chuckles, looks at her brother then back at you and announces, out of the blue and with the biggest smile “i think you will get married.” and as your eyes widen and your lips spread open in shock, while issei laughs his ass off, you convey that probably the mattsukawa siblings will be the end of you.

[gatitties]

Death

─ Dbd x gn!teen!reader

─ Summary: you show that death is not an option to leave this world

─ Warnings: none

3 < 4 > 5

You gasped again in the middle of a chase, you started to question your fitness the less you lasted running or looping because what the fuck is up with Michael? He doesn't even run and he's catching up to you in just two seconds obviously you're not as tall as him, but this seemed like a bad joke.

You started to slow down approaching an 'L' shaped structure you looked over your shoulder to see the red light right behind you, then sprung into action. You put your hand in the form of a fist taking it to your heart, pretending that it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe, leaving Michael out of place, he just stayed with the knife suspended in the air staring at you.

Were you dying? Did you have asthma? He was so confused because something like this never happened, should he leave you for a while to recover and go after you again? Or stab you directly? Since he was not very clear about it, he chose to stalk you and charge his power to level two. He would still get blood points for keeping up the 'chase' as well.

"Call an ambulance, call an ambulance...!" You gasped, pounding your chest like you couldn't breathe properly, Michael looked at you like you were stupid, an ambulance? really? Here?  "but not for me!"

You intended to use a flashlight to blind him by surprise, but the surprise was yours when the supposed flashlight that you had in your hand was not there, however instead of that, you threw a box of heavy tools right at the killer's face. It made a dull noise against his forehead, but it didn't even hurt him, he just stared at you silently with disapproval and annoyance.

You're done, you're so done. You sentenced everyone to die because you made him reach level three obsession, but hey, for you it would still be a gg wp. At least you had won Ace's bet, he bet some blood points that you wouldn't be able to stun Michael, because let's face it, normally you just did a little bit of loop then full w, you barely dropped pallets or you did it wrong, you started to think that it would be easier to throw tool boxes to stun.

You returned the blood points earned to him in exchange for him accompanying you to the forest, why did you want to go to the forest if there is only fog and pine trees, maybe a lake? Simply because you wanted to, did you need any excuse? You only used Ace so they wouldn't tell you that you couldn't go alone, and he couldn't say no anymore even if he didn't want to go.

"The first bet I lose here is with a kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

Ace looked at you from behind his glasses, having his typical stupid crooked smile.

"In my eyes and compared to my age you are."

You clucked and rolled your eyes, walked a few steps ahead of him, occasionally fiddling with the first aid kit Claudette had forced you to carry, as well as the ax them occasionally used to chop down wood, this one your companion had, at Just like you, he just fiddled with it trying to distract himself from the silence.

The silence and tension seemed to be getting to the man as he seemed to want to break it somehow, well he wasn't that charismatic when he didn't know if the creatures in the forest could kill him once and for all. Which you couldn't have cared less about, you weren't going to die, well, you couldn't die, you were clear about it, those monsters wouldn't be the ones that would end your life.

"Ahg this is boring, hey kid, why don't you tell me something about your past life? You never said anything about yourself when you got here, you just threw a tantrum until you had the damn cell phone."

"I also know almost nothing about you or your previous life."

"What do you want to know about my former self?"

"Really nothing, don't get me wrong, I don't think it makes sense or is important to know how you were before in the situation we are in, the important thing is how you are here and now."

"That may be the smartest thing you've said in all the time you've been here" You looked at him with a frown feeling completely attacked  "I share the thought but I don't give a shit, I need to talk about something or I'll die of boredom, kiddo."

"I have nothing to tell you, I don't even have such a good memory, nor life experience, I'm fifteen, my old life only consisted of studying and sleeping, there's nothing more I can tell you."

"Hobbies?"

"Nothing in particular that might surprise you..."

"Pets?"

"They never let me have one..."

"Hell, have you done anything important in your life?"

"No, I already told you."

You fell back into silence for a few minutes, just as Ace seemed to want his round of questions you heard a low growl followed by the rustling of leaves in front of you, you didn't even have time to react as the man was already grabbing your arm to pull you behind him as he told you to cover your mouth. You slowly hid behind a fairly large rock, watching as a hound with sharp fangs and abnormally thin limbs sniffed around.

You almost got rid of it when it was about to leave but you had to take a step back and make a branch break in half, you shared a look with Ace and heard a much more ferocious growl, without looking at the creature you went to run. While you were laughing because of the adrenaline of the moment Ace was panicking because of the monster's proximity, he wasn't going to be able to dodge it, he wasn't going to be able to protect you, were you going to die from this thing?

No of course not, you got tired of running too fast so you slowed down until you were standing in front of the hellhound with a smile, Ace freaked out even more when he didn't see you next to him, turning his head and almost peeing on his pants when seeing how the beast pounced on your body.

"Don't waste my life and run away, did you hear me old man?!"

"Oh shit- come back here, you don't have to do that you don't know if you're going to-!"

Ace looked away, his breathing became erratic as he watched as you were stabbed and dismembered, he stifled all of his guilt and went for a run not wanting to miss this chance you had given him.

You could only say that it was less painful than you expected, you laughed inside yourself, you had only wanted to dramatize the scene as if you were in a movie, but you knew you were going to come back. And you checked it when your body began to turn into thick black fog, you arrived at the camp in one piece to see how almost everyone paranoid their surroundings.

Until you exchanged glances with a distraught Ace, who had arrived a while ago leaving everyone worried for your life. He stopped what he was doing to strangle you in a hug, you laughed silently.

"I already said that I wasn't going to die, you'all are dramas."

"I don't care, don't do that again for God's sake!"

"Someone had to prove it, at least you know that you can't die from the creatures of the fog either."

"I prefer that you throw me slices of cheese every day to wake me up before you use yourself as a guinea pig for these things."

"Slices of cheese as an alarm clock huh...?"

"It was just an exaggeration-!"

[because-of-a-friend]

Enemies to Lovers!Jeonghan

MASTERLIST

One day I will come up with titles for my works lol. 

Hi Hannah!!!! Thanks for requesting! I loved doing this one! I went ahead and went with Jeonghan cuz I feel like he fits this trope best! Sorry you had to wait so long, this particular fic got deleted like... three times so it was a struggle lol. I hope it’s what you were looking for!

I hope this is a good one, I’m realizing I get real insecure about my writing anytime I’m not doing a bulletpoint or reaction fic, so I don’t feel great about this time. Also I only started recently putting actual detail into my kiss scenes and idk how I’m doing with those???? Like do they seem ok??? Also I feel like I make it so obvious that I am such a sucker for SVT having cute nicknames for siblings, friends, partners, etc in fics lol. Anyways...

Also, I really said: Jeonghan... but in different types of lighting

Remember I don’t own the gif! Link to OP is right there if you want to go give the creator some love!!!

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions eating, reader is using female pronouns (I will keep things gn unless you request differently), I think that’s it, pls let me know if I missed any

You’re not sure exactly how it happened. It was probably just an instance of getting off on the wrong foot, that led to more awkward interactions, giving both of you the wrong impression of each other. You knew this, you could rationalize it all. You were well aware that all it would take was one “I think we might have the wrong idea of each other” conversation and it would all be over. You could easily fix it all, but…

But his stupid smug face. The sarcastic jokes. The never-ending pranks that were not as funny as he thought they were. His ridiculous arrogance. His overall unapologetic nature towards all of it.

You couldn’t help but hate Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

“I don’t know, Wonnie…” you say uneasily over the phone. In previous years, you’d go over to the dorm without hesitation. You loved spending time with your brother and many of the other boys. But ever since you had officially met and begun interacting with Jeonghan…

“C’mon, [Y/N]! I bought that new game you were talking about! We can play it together on my gaming system!” Wonwoo began to persuade. You knew you’d give in; you always did. Your brother was far too sweet a person and far too comforting a presence to reject. The question was how long did you want to argue with him about going to the dorm.

You sighed, accepting defeat early to save time, “I’ll head over there in a bit.”

Wonwoo gives a small cry of victory, “Ok, I’ll have Gyu make extra ramen.” Wonwoo abruptly hangs up the phone right after, leaving you in silence to groan in regret of your decision.

You immediately straighten yourself out, though, trying to put yourself in a mindset of determination. What were you thinking? Just because you and that asshole didn’t get along meant you couldn’t go see your own twin brother without feeling uncomfortable? Screw that! If he wanted to keep the peace then he was going to have to start watching where he stepped around you. 

*****

You knocked loud and clear on the door of their dorm, knowing that with thirteen people living inside, it was usually too noisy for them to hear someone signal their arrival. To your relief, Seungcheol opened the door just moments after you knocked and greeted you with a warm smile followed by a hand sneaking into your hair to ruffle it, “Hey there, kiddo! How’s it hanging?”

“Just fine,” you tilt your head down slightly in his direction as you pass him to enter the dorm. “How are things here?” As soon as you ask, your ears are met with the noise of someone dropping something in the kitchen, followed by Seungkwan crying in alarm.

“Same as always, I supposed,” Seungcheol sighs, but his smile doesn’t fade. “I think Mingyu and Wonwoo are already in the computer room, if you want to go ahead and see them!”

“Ok, thanks Cheol!” you call as you both rush off in different directions, him towards the kitchen and you towards the small room that would provide you solace from the possibility of having to see Yoon Jeonghan.

You were determined not to let things go how they usually did: you with your mouth clamped shut as Jeonghan spoke whatever teasing words he had saved up for you, and the most you can do to fight back is by rolling your eyes and finding any way to get away from him.

This time, you would still avoid contact with him, but if it happened, you’d speak your mind and not care what he thought, since that’s how he treated you.

But there was no sign of him or anyone else as you walked to the computer room. You could hear Mingyu and Wonwoo yelling and cheering at the game long before you opened the door. It was pitch black inside, the piercing light of the screen making you squint your eyes.

The two men inside both turn immediately to check who offended their dark space with the soft, yellow light from the hallway.

“Oh [Y/N], you came!” Mingyu beams up at you. You nod, matching his bright expression.

“How’s the game?” you ask simply, looking up to your brother.

“We like it so far,” Wonwoo’s smile is wide, he always gets excited about new games, whether they’re good or not. He leans over to grab a can of some sort of energy drink before gulping it down. “We left some ramen for you over there on the table. Eat first, then I’ll let you have a turn.”

You roll your eyes, though Wonwoo was only mere minutes older than you, he found those moments to be enough leverage to order you around and act like you should be dependent on his care. There were times when he even referred to himself as “oppa” to you and insisted that you do the same.

Most of the time you let it slide, especially when you weren’t in the mood to argue. However, there were times when you’d pull out the “We’re the same age,” “Even if you’re older, I’m smarter,” or “Don’t boss me around when I’m more mature than you” cards at the drop of a hat.

“Can you at least turn on the LEDs while I eat?” you ask, tip-toeing in the darkness towards the table at the back end of the room. You hear a click before a soft blue glow fills the room, finally giving you a clear view of your path. You pull the bowl of ramen towards you as you sit and resist the urge to comment on how little they left you. The dorm was filled with food anyways, you could find more later if you got hungry again.

Wonwoo and Mingyu begin to eagerly tell you what they like about the game as you eat. You listen happily, feeling safe in the presence of your brother and friend.

Then of course…

“Hey you two, Cheol wanted me to remind you that we have to get up early tomorrow,” you can’t help the sour expression that comes over your face as Jeonghan enters the room to speak to Wonwoo and Mingyu. “Oh, hey there cutie, I didn’t know you were here!” His smirk makes you sick.

“Don’t call me that,” you say bitterly into the nearly empty bowl.

Wonwoo looks nervously between you and his bandmate, well aware of the dislike you have for him. He’s grateful that you’ve always kept it so civil, but still feels bothered by the unrest between you.

Jeonghan lets out a little giggle in response, and Wonwoo feels a tug in the pit of his stomach, he wishes Jeonghan wouldn’t be so hard on you sometimes. He knows his hyung doesn’t mean anything by it, but you…

You feel your heart sink as Jeonghan steps fully into the room, striding to sit across from you at the table. You can only stare in wonder at his audacity as he slides the bowl towards himself and finishes off the ramen in one bite.

“I was eating that,” you try to keep your tone measured, attempting to keep within the balance of standing up for yourself but not starting any drama that would affect the boys.

“Go make more if you’re hungry, then,” Jeonghan says casually, making your anger positively flare.

You don’t even give your brother the chance to mediate, jumping up from your place and leaving the room, wanting to be anywhere but around that prick.

*****

“You’re leaving already?” Mingyu pouts at you.

“Gyu, I’ve been here for hours,” you laugh, stretching out your fingers as they start to prick from pain of slamming into a keyboard for so long. You had returned to the computer room but only after Jeonghan left. Part of you had wished you had done more to confront him; another part was glad you didn’t start a fight and put Wonwoo in an awkward position. “Besides all of you, as well as me have to get up early tomorrow, it’s already late. I need to get back home.”

“You can stay here,” Wonwoo was quick to offer.

You shook your head at him, “Then I’ll just have to get up even earlier, I’ll go back to my place.” Wonwoo nods almost reluctantly, standing to walk you out.

All of you run into Joshua on your way to the front door, he turns out to be the only one smart enough to ask how you got there.

“Oh, I took the bus,” you say slowly, knowing this is about to cause issues.

“Well, the last one would have already stopped running by now,” Mingyu says looking at the time on his phone.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Josh offers immediately.

You bring your hands up to shake them back and forth, “No, no, I can find a way home, you all need to go to bed.”

“[Y/N],” Wonwoo speaks up immediately in that stern voice you hate but also can’t help but listen to, “let Josh take you home. It’s either that or you stay here, I won’t have you walking around alone at night.” Wonwoo waits a moment to gauge your expression. He finally nods affirmatively, before speaking directly to Joshua, “Take her home, please.”

Joshua nods before walking off to grab his keys. You and Wonwoo send Mingyu off to bed. Once you’re alone, your brother pulls you in for a tight hug. “Do you want me to say something to him?” he asks lowly.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to cause any problems with you guys.” You sit in silence for a moment. “Come and stay over with me sometime, I miss our sleepovers.”

Joshua comes back and Wonwoo pulls away, “Thanks, hyung. Please get her home safe.” For the second time that night, your hair gets ruffled before your brother disappears to go off to bed.

The ride home with Joshua is comfortable. He speaks kindly to you and makes you smile.

You begin to wonder how amongst all these angels, there exists a person like Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

Wonwoo used the new game as leverage to guilt you into coming over quite often in the following weeks. You hadn’t realized how much you had limited your time at the dorm until you started going consistently once more. It was nice being able to spend time with the boys again. You hated that Jeonghan had become such an unbearable presence that it affected your relationship with the rest of your friends.

But ever since you had started to stand your ground and talk back, he had finally begun to avoid you. You supposed it was only fun for him when you sat there and took it.

It didn’t stop the two of you from bickering when you saw each other, but now both of you preferred to avoid each other instead of Jeonghan seeking you out to tease you.

The following weeks of visiting were fairly comfortable. Whenever Jeonghan wasn’t around, you got to spend plenty of time with the other boys and your brother. Plus, the new video game was even better than expected.

Jeonghan’s presence slowly became uncomfortable in a different way.

Instead of being smug and overbearing, he became strangely quiet around you. His facial expressions became more serious as he sent genuine glares your way before letting out bitter remarks and going on his way.

It made you even angrier.

Who the hell was he to torture you all this time and then act like a kicked puppy when you finally fought back???

Your anger and his bitterness slowly escalated the tension between you two. Although they were happening less frequently, the arguments between you became more serious and almost hurtful.

Whatever, you told yourself, he could do as he pleased, you wouldn’t let it affect you anymore.

*****

You stared down at your phone screen. Why? Why did it have to be here, while you were at the dorm?

The call was only five minutes. They didn’t even do it in person. Of course, they had warned that because of hard times, there’d be lay-offs soon. But they couldn’t even do it in person? And all you got was a simple “Sorry, come collect your things on Monday”??? You were a hard worker, passionate about the job, more efficient than most of your coworkers and this is how they treated you???

A part of you could’ve guessed, many of the employees your age had gotten in because of nepotism. But you didn’t want to believe that they’d just brush off all your years of hard work just to avoid stepping on the toes of higher-ups who had relative connections hired at the company.

You squatted against the wall of the hallway, still too in shock to move.

So, you simply sat in silence, for what seemed like forever.

“You good?” you had never felt worse than the exact moment his voice reached your ears.

“Go away,” you said sternly, knowing you’d be crying soon.

“Geez, forgive me for asking,” Jeonghan responds before turning to walk away. He stops abruptly after you sniffle. “So, you’re not ok?”

“No offense, Jeonghan,” you say hating the way your voice is shaking, “but you are the last person I want to speak to right now.”

There’s a heavy silence for a long moment. You silently pray that he’ll just leave. “Do you want me to get your brother?” he asks lightly.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t want to ruin the mood. I’m going to go home, just tell him I had a stomach ache.” You push yourself up and begin to walk briskly towards the door.

To your surprise, Jeonghan reaches out to stop you. You stare at his hand wrapped around your arm and wonder if you’ve ever even allowed him to touch you before. “It’s already late, let me give you a ride.”

You pull his hand off of you, “No, thanks.” You grab your coat and start to dig around in your purse to make sure you have all of your belongings.

“[Y/N],” Jeonghan’s voice rings clear in your head despite your brain feeling fuzzy. You don’t want to look at him. Who is this person that’s showing concern and speaking kindly? You don’t like it. It feels fake. It feels like a predator playing with a wounded prey. You’re just waiting for him to laugh or make a remark or do anything to make you feel worse than you already do.

But Jeonghan simply grabs the keys laying on the front table, grabs your arm once more, and leads you out to the car.

*****

The ride is suffocatingly silent. You wished he’d at least turn on some music to cover up the sound of your crying, but you remained in the quiet. You rolled down your window and stuck your head out, letting the warm night air and sound of wind comfort you. Since you were turned away from him completely, you didn’t see Jeonghan glancing over at you throughout the drive.

You couldn’t have left that car faster when you finally pulled up to your apartment.

To your dismay, Jeonghan also gets out, apparently intent on walking you up.

“You don’t have to-” you start but abruptly stop when he gives you a look telling you an emotion you don’t quite understand.

Jeonghan finally speaks when you’re riding the elevator up to your floor, “I don’t really mean it, you know.”

“Mean what?” you say weakly, starting to feel the exhaustion from crying so much.

“When I talk to you like that… I mean when I’m… rude,” he trails off, running a hand through his hair. “Usually it’s just teasing, but obviously I went too far with you. And I didn’t realize it until you started showing how upsetting it was for you. I should’ve known before that, though.”

“You seemed ruder after I started talking back,” you say, confused.  

“I was just being petty and defensive. I kept telling myself things like: It’s her fault, isn’t it? She should have made it more clear from the beginning that it was upsetting her. How was I supposed to know? But that was just me being immature, I should’ve just talked to you.”

“Is that an… apology, Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, letting yourself be a little smug.

For the first time, you get a genuine smile out of him, “Maybe.”

There’s more silence for a second.

“It’s a two-way road, though,” you say finally.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, I could have also come and talked to you instead of letting things escalate,” you say. “I played some part in all of this… unpleasantness. You can’t entirely blame yourself.”

Jeonghan smiles again, reaching out to ruffle your hair the way Seungcheol always did. Then he takes a dramatic deep breath and rolls his shoulders, “There! That feels better, doesn’t it? We can finally be friends!”

You roll your eyes in a playful manner, but you feel it too, a weight has been lifted.

*****

Wonwoo showed up at your door in the middle of the night that night. You took one look at his frantic face and groaned, “I told Jeonghan I would tell you myself.”

“You should have told me immediately!” your brother pouts as he passes you to walk into your apartment.

“I didn’t want to worry you so late, especially when all of you were having a good time. I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you close the door behind him. You watch as he turns on the TV and starts picking through your pantry. “Hmmm, yes it seems quite clear that you came here out of concern for me,” you can’t help but use a sarcastic tone.

Wonwoo sends a glare your way as he grabs snacks and settles on the couch. You sit next to him, grabbing your fair share of the food. You try to keep your attention on the show, but the feeling of Wonwoo staring straight at you is distracting.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” you sigh.

“Really? Because Jeonghan described you as an emotional wreck,” your brother scoffs.

“I was just shocked and upset. I’ll be ok. I have a good resume, I can find a new job,” you insist.

“I keep telling you, you don’t have to work-”

“I don’t care how much you make,” you interrupt. “I’m not going to depend on you. It’ll just make trouble for both of us.”

“Will you at least let me help out if there’s any problems before you find a new job?” Wonwoo kicks at your leg.

“Like I would even tell you if I was having trouble,” you return his kick.

“You just can’t help but be difficult,” your brother complains quietly.

You let the sound of the show take over the room for a few minutes. “I do have good news,” you finally speak up, wanting to give your brother some peace of mind about something. “Me and Jeonghan made up. We figured it out.”

Wonwoo bolts upright with a grin on his face, “Really??? It’s really all good now?”

“100%,” you say, unable to stop yourself from pinching your brother’s cheeks, finding his excited expression cute.

“Let’s celebrate soon then! We can have a big gaming party with all of the boys!” You agree to your brother’s proposal. You feel content in this moment, knowing you’ll wake up in the morning in an uncomfortable position, immediately kick at his legs and tell him to get his stinky feet away from you.

*****

Your time at the dorm increases with the weight of you and Jeonghan’s rivalry being gone. You’re enjoying getting to know him as a friend instead of constantly walking on eggshells around him. Going to visit the boys is once again a happy and comfortable experience.

You hadn’t realized how much Jeonghan had affected you until you two had worked things out. The world felt light again and you could breathe, no longer in constant worry of possibly ruining things between your brother and his bandmates.

You hoped things would remain without complications for a long time.

*****

“Seungkwan, you should come with us!” you begged. “The carnival only comes once a year; you can’t miss it!”

“But it’s so crowded and there are screaming kids everywhere,” Seungkwan complains.

“Oh, whatever,” Soonyoung interjects. “You love it every time we go.”

Seungkwan gives Soonyoung a look that has you laughing through your mouthful of ramen. “Oh, shoot,” you say feeling liquid start to dribble down your chin. “Can I get a napkin?”

“Here’s one,” you hear Jeonghan’s voice as he enters the room. You reach out to grab the napkin as Seungkwan and Soonyoung continue bickering. But instead of handing it to you, Jeonghan extends his hand not holding the napkin towards you. His fingers come to lightly touch your chin and turn you towards him. Jeonghan wipes your face with the napkin himself, taking the time to make sure it’s really all clean. “All better,” he smiles at you, running his thumb across your chin to check its cleanliness one last time.

As Jeonghan walks away, you turn to see if Seungkwan or Soonyoung saw what had happened. They were still arguing, though. The boys showing you physical touch or affection wasn’t really all that uncommon. But for some reason, the way Jeonghan had grabbed your chin just now… Why was your heart beating so hard?

*****

You couldn’t stop yourself from dragging Wonwoo all over the carnival. It was nice to get out in this environment, the lights, the laughter, the food, the games, the rides. You wanted to do everything, but not before you looked at all there was and took in the spectacle.

You could hear all the boys laughing excitedly behind you, you knew they’d want to try everything as well. You shook your head at Seungkwan’s bright expression, you couldn’t wait to play the ‘I told you so’ card later.

The night was a blur. All of you ran from games to rides to snacks and then all over again.

You couldn’t help but stop completely in your tracks as you passed a booth with a giant stuffie of your favorite animal as a prize. Your fascination with the plushie doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You want me to win it for you?” Jeonghan’s voice is suddenly speaking right into your ear. You jump after realizing he was right behind you. You grip your cotton candy a bit tighter and shyly nod. The way Jeonghan grins at you fills you with warmth.

You watch him walk over to the booth. His light hair and pink shirt were illuminated by the soft glow of the surrounding lights. Jeonghan takes his wallet out and hands some bills to the vendor. You step up closer to stand next to him as he plays the game. He laughs as he chats back and forth with the vendor. You watch in awe as Jeonghan clears the game, no problem.

“Anything from the top shelf!” the vendor exclaims happily.

“That one please,” Jeonghan points right at the stuffie you had been staring at.

“It’ll be a wonderful memory for your girlfriend,” the vendor smiles as he hands the prize directly to you.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Of course!” Jeonghan interrupts you almost instantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and starting to pull you away from the game. “We’ll cherish it for a long time! Thanks for the game!” The vendor waves kindly as you two walk away. After a moment, Jeonghan pulls his arm off of you, “Sorry, sometimes it’s just easier to agree than explain, you know?” You nod in agreement. “Wait a second,” he stops you by putting his hands on your shoulders and standing in front of you. Before you can ask what’s wrong, his hand comes up towards your face as it had earlier that day. He quickly swipes his thumb across your lips before pulling to back to show you remnants of your cotton candy. “Do you always eat this messily?” he grins and then, to your surprise, puts his thumb in his mouth to clean it off.

You stand there, frozen, unable to really comprehend what just happened as Jeonghan walks away towards the other boys.

“For the second time today?” Soonyoung is suddenly standing next to you.

“So you did see what happened earlier!” you exclaimed, hitting his arm lightly. “It was weird, right?!”

“Can’t tell yet,” Soonyoung replies cocking his head to the side and putting his hands in his pocket. “Sometimes Jeonghan is just sort of naturally flirtatious. But I’m not sure about you. I figured since you two didn’t get along at first, it’d take him awhile to warm up to you at that level. He seemed to get comfortable with you quite quickly.” Soonyoung turns and shrugs at you after his words.

“You’re no help at all,” you say emotionlessly. There’s a pause before both you and Soonyoung slowly look at each other and laugh at your quip.

You decide to brush off your new concerns about Jeonghan and enjoy this night with the boys. The vendor was right, it was a good memory, and you’re sure it’d last you for your whole lifetime.

*****

You hate yourself a bit for it, but you once again seem to be avoiding Jeonghan. He had made you so nervous that day, and the way your heart pounded… You didn’t want to get sucked into having a silly crush on him if he wasn’t actually trying to flirt with you.

No, from now on, interactions with Jeonghan would be friendly but short and appropriate.

You were stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

It wasn’t long before there came a night when Jeonghan insisted that he be the one to give you a ride home. You couldn’t help the way your nerves spiked at his determination to be the one to take you. You knew he most likely wanted to talk to you about your sudden distance from him.

The ride itself was nice, Jeonghan rolled the windows down for you, remembering that you enjoyed the warm night air of summer. You talked comfortably with one another. Jeonghan was always able to make you smile so easily.

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He was just wearing a t-shirt and sweats but… His blonde hair being illuminated in the moonlight as he ran his hands through it and his bright smile as he laughed...

He really was beautiful.

Once again, Jeonghan came with you to walk you to your door. And once again, he finally spoke up in the elevator, “You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart.” Your heart drops to your stomach at the nickname. “Is everything ok? Did I do something to make you mad again?”

You quickly shake your head and pull your hands up to shake them as well, “No! Not at all!”

“You sure?” he insists.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you really don’t think I’d tell you if you did?” you say.

He giggles, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d let me know the moment I messed up, wouldn’t you?” The elevator dings and opens up to your floor. You and Jeonghan step out together. “Is everything else ok, then? You don’t start avoiding people for no reason.”

You nod as casually as possible, “Everything is great.” Your tone isn’t convincing and Jeonghan nudges you. “I guess, I just got… nervous? I mean one moment we were like enemies and then the next we were suddenly really… close, and-”

“I made you uncomfortable?” Jeonghan’s voice is slightly panicked.

“No, you did nothing wrong! It’s all on me, I just got caught up in my emotions and-” you stop abruptly when you realize what you were about to do.

Jeonghan nods quietly as if to say he understands, but what it is he understands, you’re not sure. “Is it ok for us to remain close, or do you want me to back off?”

“I don’t want any more distance between us, but…” you trail off.

“But, what?” he prompts you again.

“I don’t want to get the wrong idea about anything…” you say, finally reaching your door.

Jeonghan watches as you slowly unlock your door and push it open, “You haven’t gotten the wrong idea about anything.” He avoids eye contact when you look up at him.

You’re shocked by his forwardness. But once he voices his thoughts out loud, you once again feel the feeling of a weight being lifted.

Jeonghan gestures for you to step inside, catching your arm once you fully pass him. He pulls you back to him, close enough for him to lean in and leave a quick kiss on your cheek, “Night, babe, I’ll see you later.”

You stand there, completely still, staring at your door that had shut closed in front of you. You can feel heat rise from the tip of your toes all the way up to your ears. You finally let yourself fall into a squatting position, covering your face with your hands, and letting out a squeal.

*****

Jeonghan invites you to meet up outside of the dorm. It’s a cute little coffee shop at a quiet part of the city. You’re already sitting when he walks in. Maybe one day, you won’t be completely caught off guard by his beauty… but today is not that day.

His whole person is bathed in the glow of the early morning light as he approaches you, the softest, most genuine smile gracing his face.

“No, don’t get up,” he says when you try to leave your chair, “I need to go off and order anyways.” Jeonghan leans down to kiss your forehead firmly. “I just wanted to come say hi first,” he whispers, holding your face close to his.

Your first date sets a wonderful precedent to the rest of your relationship. Jeonghan gets your heart racing with flirty comments and sweet touches. But he also makes you feel calm and content, easily keeping a smile on your face. You just feel… good throughout it all.

You insist on walking him back to the dorm, since they had schedules that day.

“So, we’ll be doing this again?” Jeonghan asks hopefully, as you reach the front door.

“Definitely,” you nod enthusiastically up at him, wondering how you had ever managed to despise the man that made you feel so whole and happy.

Jeonghan looks utterly happy and a tiny bit nervous as he stares down at you. His hand reaches up to brush back your hair before settling firmly against your face. Jeonghan looks at you so fondly as he leans in. His lips connect to yours… so softly… so sweetly. You can feel his nose nudge against your face to push it into a preferred position. He pulls back slightly after every little kiss to let out laughter so sweet, it sounds like it should be coming from the mouth of an angel. But he’s never far away for long, reconnecting to you quickly every time. You let him take the lead, allowing his lips to take care of yours, giving them the sweetest kind of attention. He pulls back for a moment longer to nuzzle his nose against yours, an action that has you gripping his shirt to keep him close. His hands keep themselves entertained by running across your face or through your hair.

He’s going back in to kiss you once again when he front door of the dorm opens, leaving you caught in the act. Wonwoo stares at you two for a long moment before making a single comment that causes you and Jeonghan to laugh.

“You know, when I said I wanted you two to have a better relationship, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L |  S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   s e v e n |  b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy’s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

------------

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.  

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.  

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it 

[ayamturd]

late│technoblade

summary: three times you said i love you, and the one time technoblade says it back

prompt: “I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to”

warnings: fluff and major angst, blood and death descriptions, dsmp spoilers

pairing: in-game romantic!technoblade

a/n: this is my entry for @burntcilantro​‘s 500 writing event!! much love and congratulatory to min, they’re an amazing writer and an even better person (they’re so nice, give them the support they deserve)

also i separated some of the dsmp events and spaced them out (so there’s more time between for plot purposes lol)

wc: (2.0k) - m.list

“Why are you so stupid?”

You were sat on top of a chest, holding one leg with your arms while the other was currently being wrapped by Technoblade. While you giggled at his insult, you winced once he tightened the gauze on your ankle with a glare. 

“It’s not funny, y/n.” He leaned down to bite off the rest of the wrapping, finishing the fold as you huffed at his seriousness.

“I told you to watch the house, not climb onto the roof and play a fun game of risk. What were you thinking?”

His stare was heavy and made you feel little as he looked down at you. The tone of the room changed as you lost the humor in the situation, his concern overpowered by the anger laced in his voice.

“I just wanted to help,” you stated, turning your face away, discouraged, with your arms crossed. “You’ve been getting the all the resources lately and haven’t let me even step off the damn property.”

Looking down, you fiddled with your fingers as to avoid his gaze. “I wanted to try and fix the wood panelings that have been leaking, that’s all.” 

The silence was harsh, and you swallowed deeply at how uncomfortably stiff the air became. Technoblade opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it shut with no words to voice.

With a shaky breath, you gripped the edge of the wood and slowly lowered yourself onto your foot; you didn’t plan on staying here just so he couldn’t say anything more. Technoblade was quick to steady his arms around you in case you fell, but you immediately pushed his hand away aggressively and stood with all your weight on your healthy foot.

Arms out to balance, as you tried to take the first step on your bad foot, you crumpled into your self with a yelp from the pain and collapsed. Ready as always, Techno caught you from behind and guided you to the nearest chair. 

You flinched from the small movement but sighed once sitting again. Techno crouched in front of you to check how you physically were, but your eyes were closed shut as you tried to collect your breathing. 

“Y/n,” Techno call out. Calming yourself down, you opened your eyes to meet his; he was much more sincere before, his face soft as he spoke gently to you. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Looking down, Technoblade paused as to gather his thoughts before explaining himself further. 

“I know I’ve been overbearing since the attempted execution,” you reached a hand towards his cheek when he mentioned the recent event, which he leaned into as he continued with closed eyes, “but please know it’s from a place of concern. I just- I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t let anything happen to you. I-I…”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You spoke for him as you pulled him into your chest, hugging his large frame as best as you could. He relaxed into your hold with a sigh of relief. 

“I love you, Techno.” You kissed the top of his head, and he only burrowed himself deeper into the hug.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

Technoblade was hunched over on the front lawn, hands on his head while trembling from the overwhelming pain of the voices. He whimpered at your words, indicating he heard you to some extent.

He had come home, alone, and fell to his knees at the sight of you when you opened the door. Immediately, you had rushed over to him and skid to your own knees to comfort him, but he grunted from your attempts to touch him; even when under the influence, he was still conscious enough to fear for your own safety relative to the blind rage of the voices. 

You had tried talking to him, attempted to get him to give you any context to what was causing his anger, which he answered with snarling growls in return. “Tommy… left… betrayed. Chose government.” 

While broken into murmured words, you understood instantly and tried to bring him back in spite needing to quench your own anger from Tommy’s departure. You rested your palms into the snow, lowering your head as much as possible to meet his bowed head. 

You peered up at him despite his own eyes screwed shut from the unbearable chaos that roared within his head, and called out to him as softly as you could. It was a stretch, but you hoped you could soothe him down by talking.

“Hey bubs, just listen to my voice, alright? You hear me now yes? You can understand what I’m saying?” Patiently waiting, you watched him closely until he gave the smallest nod, fists still pushed against his skull and twisting from the ache. 

“That’s good, that’s really good, love. You hear my voice, now listen to my words.” Slowly, you leaned close enough to whisper to him directly. 

“I’m here, okay? I’m so sorry about Tommy, I know how much you cared for him. I still care for him too, and I know it hurts right now, but rest assured I’m still here. I’m here Techno, and I’m never leaving you.”

With clenched teeth, he let out a sob at your declaration and pushed his head against you. You took his permission to touch him promptly, gripping him with as much strength as you could carry so he felt stable and secure. 

You squeezed him, desperate to ground him from slipping further, and rocked the both of you. He released a shuttered breath, and you kissed his skin gently.

“I love you, you know? I will always be here and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

He clutched you with his entire being, your words and presence more than he could ever ask and want. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?”

You grinned widely at his words, smile almost sadistic as you glanced at him with your arms propped on the axe you carried above your shoulders. 

“What ever could you mean?” Despite the roll of his eyes, he did nothing to hide his own amusement to your eagerness to the upcoming destruction you were to bring. He chuckled, his deep laughter making you smile more softly to how genuine he was as you walked besides him. Hand raised to wave his rocket launcher, he focused ahead proud. 

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Turning to look at you again, you stared at him adoringly and smirked slightly while bashful to his confident manner. “We are indeed.”

It became relatively silent as you walked through the layered snow, feet crunching from your steady pace. You continued to take random glances at him, Technoblade doing the same until you both heard a loud groan. 

“My god, you two are insufferable, I can’t deal with this right now.” Dream sneered at you specifically, as if you were the cause for his own discomfort, and walked through you both.

“I’ll meet you guys there instead, but hurry.” Swiftly, he pulled out an ender pearl and threw it a few yards ahead towards the portal, his figure disappearing altogether. 

You stared in disbelief from his actions until a cough interrupted your thoughts once more. “You know what,” Phil avoided looking at you both, his hands tapping together awkwardly as he walked ahead as well but turned to address you while moving backwards. 

“I’ll see you guys there too, just, be sure to be quick?” You both nodded wordlessly, and he took his leave in fast haste. 

Standing there alone, you risked another glance at him and met his eyes, laughing loudly at the circumstances. 

Technoblade held a hand to his face, body shaking from his laughter while you were endlessly giggling, holding your stomach from the pain. Eventually, your fits faded with large smiles, and you faced him with a shake of your head. 

“I didn’t realize we’d be one of those couples.” Technoblade sighed, though you could tell it was for play, and nodded. “A shame really, I never thought this day would come.” 

You giggled again, and chose to move closer, tilting your head upwards at him with a sweet beam while leaning onto your axe. He gave you a small smile in return, however his faded immediately after. 

Lifting his open hand, he cupped your cheek and bent down to kiss your forehead, touching yours together after with his eyes closed. “Promise me you’ll be safe? I trust you to protect yourself, but for me, stay safe when things start to go bad?”

While you knew it was impossible to guarantee you’d stay away from the majority of the danger, you knew better than to leave his concern unanswered and open. 

“I promise,” you murmured, “for you, I promise.”

He pulled you against his chest this time, engulfing you completely and holding the back of your head earnestly to his heart. 

“I love you,” you voiced, your words muffled into his armor and coat. He hummed while looking ahead, his eyes trained on the glowing portal that called towards him. This was a war he refused to leave with mercy, the price of your peaceful lives together on the line. 

“No…”

There was too much blood. The thick liquid stained every surface and soaked through his coat that he pushed against your wound. 

Internally panicking from your tight expressions of discomfort, Technoblade desperately searched through his inventory for something, anything, that could heal or at the very least help you. He was forced to face the reality that he used all his potions during the midst of battle and combat. He couldn’t do anything. 

“Why, why why,” he snarled, his eyes clouding with an outset of tears he couldn’t care for. “Why are you so stupid.” His voice caught in his throat from his conflicted emotions and he tightened his hold on the fabric pushed against your stomach; the pain had faded at this point, and you were numb to the constant pressure he tried to hold. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I lied.” Your voice was light and strained, but Technoblade refused to accept the situation for what it was. He turned to a perched crow, screaming at it to get Phil and scaring it away with a slash of his sword, before tucking his head down in an almost silent plea. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?” he whispered. Though he tried to be delicate, he couldn’t help how tight he held your hand. 

“I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to.” You gave a tired grin as your eyes began to droop, hand tightening on his, however incredibly weak in comparison. 

“I asked you to be safe,” he cried, body stricken with grief as he abandoned his hold on your stomach and instead shakily held your face, your own blood smearing against your skin from his callous fingers. “I needed you safe.”

You placed a hand over his, using all your strength to relish in his touch and kissing the inner of his palm. “Yet you needed my love more.” 

He choked out a sob from your admittance, and pulled you into his chest, your body limp, as he rocked you slightly. “I’ll always be there for you, and love you more than I could for my own safety.”

The ruins echoed the wails of a tormented heart on the broken landscape of a haunted battlefield that called for death and devastation. The smoke and clouds of destruction reigned above, and despite the final end to the corrupted nation that was built on nothing but lies and deceit after a helpless man’s death, Technoblade couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I love you,” he uttered, the words he struggled for oh so long to express finally free from its cage. “I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”

His words fell on deaf ears, and he screamed in agony at the truth that laid before him.

He was too late.

[yuujism]

a curse like you (ryōmen sukuna x reader)

REQUEST:  Hello! I really love ur sukuna fics and i was wondering if i can request a yuuji/sukuna x fem reader where mc is a curse that sukuna knew from many years ago?? Can be fluff, smut or angst. Up to you 😁 thank you so much!! 🤗

| PAIRINGS:  ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

| WARNINGS: little suggestive but nothing bad, grammar errors

| WORD COUNT: 1,653

A/N: i focused this more on sukuna idk  if that’s ok with you !! if not you can send me a message or reqeust and tell me what did you expect so i can change it if i can😭!! anyway i like yearning and ex lovers to lovers prompts so uhh yea 😳 might even write this better with yuuji being more involved and more things happening lmfaosh !! i hope you enjoy!!  ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Sukuna was bored out of his mind.

These situations were becoming more recurrent now that the brat that called himself his vessel started becoming stronger and getting the hang of the use of cursed energy.

He could hear everything that happened during the fight: the swearing, the sound of flesh splitting open, blood splashing and some motivational speech every now and then.

This was all a routine for the King of Curses now.

When he felt the light in his flesh for the first time in thousands of years, he swore he would never feel something like that again. It wasn’t anything that deemed itself meaningful, but after centuries of not having contact with anything at all, that moment felt like pure ectasis. He didn’t really count with having to spend most of the time inside of a brat after that.

It was all boring now. Boring, boring, boring. 

“Sorcerers come pretty green now, don’t they?” 

Oh? 

He lifted his head way too quickly, almost giving himself whiplash even if it was impossible. 

That voice. Sukuna knew that voice well. Very well if he said so himself. 

This was the voice that would call him a King in a mocking tone, as if it was calling him the King of idiots instead of the King of Curses. The same voice that refused to let out the sound of his name, too proud and stuck up but whenever they were alone, feeling each other, it would slip out every now and then. A voice that would let out the sweetest pleads and moans whenever he would let his hands travel around that body. And it became the last thing he heard before he was cut into pieces and retained by sorcerers for decades, sinking into the darkness. 

And now, the owner of the voice, who he thought was dead, was standing there, in front of his vessel, with the biggest smirk on her face.

Y/N. The proclaimed queen of curses.

And Sukuna’s... ex.

Sukuna felt Itadori freeze in place, looking directly at you with fear filling his body. The curse couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Even after thousands of years, your power was way too intimidating and immaculate Sorcerers of the old age would even avoid saying Y/N’s name in fear of summoning her, knowing damn well she wouldn’t hesitate to kill them for making bad use of her title. 

They could feel it. They knew you weren’t just a cursed spirit. You could talk and appeared out of nowhere without even making your presence known. You were probably at the same level as Sukuna. Or Sukuna was at the same level as you.

He really thought you were killed after he was captured, only remembering your revengeful words towards the sorcerers who killed your lover. After that, and for obvious reasons, he never heard of you. Not even in this new era where sorcerers spawned one after the other, never mentioning your name or any hint that lead to your survival. So to see you in front of him, safe and sound and impactful as ever, Sukuna felt relief.

Y/N’s eyes landed on Yuji’s restless ones, as if she was staring at his soul. Which, basically, she did. Her gaze passed all the way through his barrier and soul, finally reaching what she was looking for: Sukuna’s own soul and eyes.

“Damn, King, is that you?” in a blink of an eye, you were right before Itadori’s face, too quick for him to even react and even too scared. “Shit, you’re pretty fucked now, huh? All trapped inside a bag of human flesh.”

Before the girl with the hammer could strike your body after snapping out of her trance, you limited yourself to press a finger in the sorcerer’s forehead, smiling almost sweetly before sending her body flying back with extreme force against the furthest wall of the space, knocking her out. 

“K-Kugisa- Hngh!” Itadori’s words were interrupted by a hand wrapping around his neck, slightly lifting him from the ground as he struggled to move, too weak from the constant fighting with all the cursed spirits that came in a flood. 

“Now, now,” Your voice was too calm, almost tired, getting closer to Yuuji’s face “Why don’t you switch with the oh-so-mighty King of curses? Too scared to come out, huh, King?” 

Your tone ticked Sukuna in more than one way. You were still the same annoying bitch as before. 

If you wanna live you better switch with me, you damn brat.

“Like hell I would switch with you! You’re gonna kill us!”

“Oh, so you can talk with him within yourself?” You let out an amused snort, your grip getting tighter. “Ridiculous!”

Foolish human, she will kill you. Switch with me.

Even if his vessel dying didn’t mean anything to Sukuna, he knew he would never get the chance to meet you again, probably for another thousand years, and these sorcerers were too invested in vanishing him from the face of the earth. 

When Yuuji was about pass out, eyes half closing and his windpipe being pressed roughly, you noticed the way his skin started developing black marks in his face and along his body. You smiled widely when the small scars under the sorcerer’s eyes opened to reveal a red colour looking straight at you, the whole features of this guy in front of you changing to reveal what you were looking forward too.

Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your wrist, claws digging into your flesh as you both stared at each other with a mix of emotions: hatred, anger, amusement. And something more.

“Move.”

You dropped him, backing up a bit as he fixed the hoodie his vessel was wearing, glaring at the queen of curses. You didn’t change at all. If Sukuna had to be honest, you were as hot tempered and attractive as before. He could perfectly remember the way your body reacted whenever he touched the spots that drove you crazy A sly smirk appeared on his face as he noticed the same movement of fingers when you were restless, and he knew it was because of him.

“Nervous, Y/N?” Sukuna chuckled, walking to you to circle around your frame, looking up and down your body. “You know I don’t bite, baby. Unless you ask me to, that is.”

You turned around to look at him behind you, incredulous.

“Hah?” Your head fell back, letting out a louder than usual laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, King. I’m just worried I’ll easily step on you while you’re in this vessel of yours.” Your hand started glowing with your cursed energy, raising an eyebrow at the way his indifferent expression didn’t flinch. “And even more now since you get dominated so easily.”

Once again, something in Sukuna ticked. If there was something he hated more than being looked down upon, it’d be the fact of not being in control of any situation. He never once admitted it, but your comments really got to him. He wanted to be praised and adored by you, queen who would never adore anyone but herself. This just made him even more infatuated by you. Perhaps even after all this time, he could make you say his name in a broken voice.

“You see, you shouldn’t be talking to me like that.” Your smile went away when a hand reached one of your cheeks, caressing it with such care you almost gagged. However, you couldn’t help the way your heart started beating faster. “Or do you think I don’t remember the way I made you submit to me?”

This time, it was you who twitched with anger. Sukuna’s hand grabbed your chin, his eyes falling on those delicious lips that committed the most sinful of acts and spat out the dirtiest of words. He was getting excited already, the fire within him starting to awaken after a long time.

When his face started getting closer to yours, you spat on him, the liquid landing on his cheek and laughing at his dumbfounded reaction after such action.

“A half-assed curse like you shouldn’t be talking to ME like that.” You snarled back, your arm swinging to attack the man in front of you. You almost chanted victory when your fist perfectly landed on the side of his face, making his head to turn to the side.

But when Sukuna turned to look back at you still with your fist against him, you gulped. There was no reaction, no injury that showed he was at least a little faced by the sudden attack.

This was it.

“Well, fuck.” You almost laughed again, expecting the worst to come when his eyes flashed with something dark, grabbing you by both sides of your head. All that time surviving for nothing. Keeping yourself hidden from every single sorcerer that walked the earth and now you were going to get killed by your ex-lover.

But instead of receiving the coup de grâce, Sukuna’s lips smashed against yours in a hungry manner, groaning against your mouth as your hands flew to scratch his arms in surprise, eyes open wide before the movement of his lips and strong hand in the back of your neck made you close them, not being able to fight back your own desires.

Sukuna missed this. Honestly, he missed any kind of physical touch but the fact it was with you again, made him realise it would always be you.

He was as calm as the silence surrounding you now, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling your flushed ears. You were burning up, face red and glassy eyes. Sukuna smiled before slightly pulling your hair, head slightly falling back and taking advantage of this to place the softest of kisses in your neck. You let out a rather pathetic moan and he deeply chuckled.

“And a curse like you should know who is in charge here.”