#me when they said everything was going to be covered and then pull this

[marbofmoorock]

Gotta love the day after Valentine's Day. Jax strikes me as the type of guy to buy up a bunch of seasonal candy when it's cheap and on clearance the day after.

He presents a few to Ragatha as she seemed down in the dumps after a rush adventure with dogsripping up other dolls:

"Ey Dollface, don't you know life is, eh, like a box of Chocolates?"

"Oh, weeeell, ehehe, yeah, Becaaause you don't know what you're gonna ge-"

(Splat)

"NOPE. Life just kinda has a way of testing people, like right now Raggy."

Ragatha Sits completely stunned as the partially melted chocolates slides down and covers her face. She already had kind of a bad day, and just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, Jax throws melted Chocolate in her face for a cheap laugh.

She tears up.

"(Sobs)...Y-yeah...I guess..."

Jax notices Ragatha's more sad response, usually expecting her to be upset after all that had gone on today. But Ragatha was clearly done with today, tearing up as she felt like everything was just falling apart around her, no matter how much she had helped.

Jax feels a pang of guilt, something he hadn't felt in a long time, despite often antagonizing others for fun.

"I... Look, I'm sorry Rags...eeh, I...Didn't know you'd take it so hard uhh-"

Jax pauses, seeing how Ragatha is still covered in chocolate, it's all over her face and her dress. She sat down on a nearby block, and buried her face in her mitt hands.

Jax starts to realize that he's really messed up, feeling anxious and upset, hoping to fix what he had done, a gentler and more considerate side of Jax coming out as he finds a nearby box of wipes, and walks back up to Ragatha.

At first, she winces at Jax as she seemed next to broken at this point, unable to handle another joke or anything mean. She lifts her head and her eyes meet Jax's out of fear and confusion as she guards her face with her hands.

"Stop..." She said weakly, thinking Jax was going to hurt her again.

Jax saw the hurt in Ragatha's eyes, and felt awful.

"Hold still Rags, I'm gonna fix this."

"Fix...-wh-huh?"

Jax places a wet wipe on Ragatha's chocolate covered face, wiping clean the section of her face the wipe is on.

Ragatha, fearful of Jax at first, started to see that this wasn't a prank, motionless to see what would happen next, as Jax was acting so out of character, she thought.

Jax continued to wipe Ragatha's face, hair, and was even able to clean off most of the stains on her dress since they were fresh. Ragatha starred in silence, confused and surprised at what was going on.

"Jaxxy..." Ragatha whispered under her breath, still flabbergasted.

Jax looked at Ragatha as he threw the used wipes away and looked at Ragatha. Ragatha returned her gaze, curious as to what is even going on.

"Jax, I...I have no words. You pulled a real dirty prank on me, yet... you cleaned up the mess, and took care of me."

Jax looks down in silence, feeling stupid, unable to look Ragatha in the eye, until Ragatha holds Jax's cheek, gently leaning his chin in her direction.

"Jax...what's going on?" She said, wistfully gazing into Jax's eyes as she hoped quietly he might be trying to change.

"Look, I've hurt you. I can see that. I've hurt everyone, and I thought it was all a game... That is, until now... I must have hurt you the most, didn't I? I've not been kind to you Raggy."

"You do pull too many harmful pranks. But I still like you just fine. Let's just try to stick together more, okay?"

Jax Smiles; "Okay Dollface, i thinkwe can do that."

"Thank you Jaxxy...I like when you surprise me." says Ragatha as she holds Jax close, Jax blushes a little as Ragatha closes her eyes and snuggles closer to Jax as her arms are wrapped around his waist.

Jax sees and feels Ragatha's strong affections, returning them by giving Ragatha more of his own, Hugging Ragatha close in a intimate and sweet way. He was being more of a snuggly bunny, instead of a real raspy rash of a rabbit he usually was before.

Jax felt the need to shelf his harmful pranks and be more of a team player, so he declares this to Ragatha to further support her in their newly formed trust.

"I'm sorry, Raggy, I'm sorry for everything. I'll make it up to you guys, we'll be a team. I'll help build trust with everyone again, we'll make it out one day, and I won't leave any of you behind."

"Aw, Jaxxy, I forgive you, and I love you. Just don't let go of me Jaxxy, I don't know if I could handle being this low.... Alone... Again."

"I promise Raggy, to be there for you, and for everyone."

Ragatha sinks deeper into Jax's Embrace, further cementing their shared forgiveness.

...

After Ragatha and Jax bond and settle their differences, Jax goes around to Apologize to Everyone with Ragatha's blessing

He starts with Gangle, whom was doing sketches on the stage in the main tent.

Jax decides to not beat around the bush with Gangle, as he tormented her a lot.

"I'm sorry Gangle. Maybe I could help you build a comedy mask that sticks together."

Gangle, surprised as Ragatha was, put her notebook down in shock, waiting for Jax to prank her a second later when she wasn't expecting it.

"W...w-what?" Said Gangle, confused, and sad since her comedy mask broke yet again today.

"Your mask Gangle. It's made of porcelain, so it's always breaking. You need more plastic masks so they don't break anymore. I could help ya with that. It's the least I can do, I've been a real jerk to ya Ribbons, and, and..."

Gangle then looks into Jax's eyes, seeing the determination, anxiety, and care in his voice and darting eyes, her heartwarming gaze leaves Jax trailing off with a stare, hoping he hadn't offended or hurt her already, as Jax knew how sensitive Gangle was.

"Jax wow...I...I... forgive you." Gangle smiles, delighted and relieved seeing Jax is genuine in his apology, desiring to be better. "I also accept your help to fix my masks."

Jax smiles and they hug it out, happy to be friends again, Gangle trusting Jax and being closer to him now more than ever before.

"Kaufmo may be gone, but we're still here. We'll make it, all of us, together. Ragatha's there for us too, no matter what."

Gangle sheds a tear as Jax and Gangle Hug, her ribbon arms tightening as she remembers Kaufmo upon hearing Jax speak of him, as well as Ragatha's endless compassion.

"Of Course Jaxxy. We'll do it for him and for all of us."

...

Later, Kinger and Jax sit on the couch together after Jax asked him if they could talk.

"Kinger, I just want you to know I'm sorry.

"Ha-Okay Jax. I understand. Just be nice, and things will be grand. I knew you'd come around. All is forgiven."

They do a bro hug, and Jax and Kinger go about their day, Kinger is very understanding of Jax, and Jax is relieved and also unsurprised that Kinger would forgive him so fast, but was grateful regardless.

....

After that quickly lived apology, Jax approaches Pomni.

Pomni was in her room and Jax kocked on her door.

Pomni answers it.

"Hi ther-oh. Uh...Hey..."

Pomni's words were cautious and suspicious as she found out who was at her door, she was ready for Jax to take a potshot at her, ready for anything Jax had coming.

"Pomni, I've got something important I want to say."

Pomni looks at Jax, studying his expression as she watched slightly guarded behind the door.

"Okaaaay...what is it?"

Jax sighs.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Pomni pauses, not expecting Jax to Apologize.

"Sorry? Foooor...what?"

"For... not treating you better when you arrived up until now, and everything else for that matter. I've been a real jerk to you and everyone else, and I'm sorry...I don't expect you to forgive me, I just want you to understand, and know that I will be looking out for everyone here on out."

Pomni opens the door a little, fully unveiling herself to Jax, seeing how frustrated and sad Jax looked, as if he had wanted to apologize for the longest time, but was too prideful and finally cracked.

"I don't understand... Why are you apologizing now? Why are you being like this?"

"Because... I've caused everyone a lot of pain... and i want to do something, even if i can't make up for it."

Pomni silently watches Jax, seeing how remorseful he was.

"I have toyed with you and screwed around too much. You're a part of the crew, Pomni, and just know that we're all gonna look out for you from here on out. All of us, Ragatha, Gangle, Kinger, I've made amends with everyone, everyone except..."

"Thank you Jax. I think Zooble will find it in their heart to forgive you...I know Zooble might have most difficulty doing so, but, I can see you're sorry. Just know I forgive you, okay?"

Jax smiles, relieved to know Pomni accepts his forgiveness and has restored a level of trust with her. "Thank you Pomni. I won't let you down again. And I guess I should go tell her."

"I could come with you if you need me to, Jax."

"I'm the one who played with Zooble's feelings, I should do this one my own. Later Pomni."

"Okay... if you're sure. See ya Jax."

Pomni closes her door as Jax scoots over to Zooble's room, which her door was wide open. Zooble had three boxes full of parts of varying kinds, she was shuffling through each of them, hoping to find a pieces she'd like, seemingly frustrated over how she couldn't find one.

Jax considered checking in later, but Zooble notices him first.

"Oh great... what do you want now?" She said with a bitter tone, ready for Jax's onslaught of pranking she was used to at any moment.

"Zooble, I uh, just want you to know that I....am...sorry."

Zooble scoffs at hearing Jax saying that.

"No, you're not."

Jax felt guilty as he could feel Zooble's frustration as she rejected his apology.

"What's your ■■■■ing problem anyway? You seek to prank me a whole lot. Now you make a mess of my already circus life, and now you're just gonna walk on in here, and just apologize to make it all better!? You must think I'm some kinda idiot."

"...I am sorry. I really am."

"Shut up, you aren't. You don't need to try. You're not worth it."

Jax thinks over how he's going to explain this.

"Zooble wait, I'm-

(THEN ANOTHER VOICE WAS HEARD, no, MULTIPLE, at Zooble's doorway)

"He's Sorry, he really is..." Said Gangle, trying to convince Zooble that Jax was nice for a change for real.

"Really? Clearly this is buildup for another one of his 'jokes.' He's gonna spring it on-"

"Zooble, give him a chance, he really is sorry..." Said Ragatha.

Zooble sees Ragatha feeling much better than she did earlier, feeling as if she's perhaps missed something, but still remains guarded.

"You too? What the f■■■ is going on around here? Have you guys gone mad? Jax is a piece of sh-"

"Ha-Zooble," said Kinger next, "Jax has asked everyone for forgiveness, even me. He has changed. He's turned a new leaf Zoobie."

"Kinger, Jax is always toying with us of course he's waiting to-"

Zooble stops mid-sentence again to see Pomni walking up, from behind the rest of the crew at the doorway, smiling.

"He does mean it Zooble..." Said Pomni, hoping Zooble would understand, knowing how much the jester was hurt by Jax.

Jax, was silent, looking away, unsure of what to say, not trying to sway Zooble's opinion, surprised that everybody decided to stand up for him to show Zooble he was a good guy.

"Uuugggh...(sigh) Fine Jax. You're forgiven. We'll work on it. But yeah..."

Jax lights up a little, smiling in a more happy way, as opposed to his usual sly calculated expression.

"Thank you, Zooble. I'll make it up to you, I will."

The whole crew brings Jax and Zooble into a hug, everyone hugging it out as Ragatha ushers in everyone into a big cuddle puddle.

Caine pops in out of nowhere, seeing everyone get along, and gets in on the big snuggle hug too.

"Aww, I'm so glad you guys are getting along!" Said Caine as they let him in on the hug too, Bubble also joins in the hug, making cute noises.

The End.

I'm lazy but I still wanted to put something out wheeze

Happy V Day !

[plaidcowboy]

pls i need more soft rafe 🧎🏾‍♀️ i feel like people barely writes for him all soft and cutie

◜ RAFE CAN’T FOCUS ᪖ during movie night ᮫ ۪ ۫ ֢

༝ ﹆ softie rafe ༝ ⊹ ᰍꫬ distracted rafe ༝ ੭

you playfully shoved rafe’s hand when it went to lie on you again. you glanced over to see him lull his head onto the back of the couch, upset after another failed attempt. you giggled at his slight pout, “at least the first ten minutes” you referred to the film you put on for you two to watch. it was a favorite of yours and you wanted to introduce it to him. “’m down” he had said. but seeing you in your cute pj set all snuggled up next to him, made him distracted.

“just give me a brief synopsis so i know what i’m watching . . i’m paying attention, i just wanna . . pay more attention . . ” you watched as his brows slowly furrowed and a from formed on his face as his sentence went on. he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

you nodded, going along so you two could just start the movie. “so, they’re starting their first senior year of high school. well, at least she is. you’ll figure out why he technically isn’t later . . ” you were cut off by rafe gripping the bottoms of your set. “where’d you get this from? i want to put you in more.”

you grabbed his hand, putting it back onto his lap. “were you listening?” you huffed out. rafe looked up to you, “yeah, she’s a senior, he isn’t . . what?” rafe realized your words.

you giggled, “no, they’re both seniors, he just . . well, you’ll see. anyway . .” rafe halted your words again, “no, seriously, what store? you look so cute like that explaining your favorite movie. i could listen to you talk about anything. i’d believe anything you say. i don’t even have to watch the movie, you just tell me everything and i sit here and stare at you. is that an option?”

you froze, hands mid gesture while explaining. “no . . not an option” rafe’s head slung down. he sighed, “yeah, i figured.”

“rafe!” you grabbed his face, getting closer to him by shuffling forward on your knees, “it’s not that hard! it’s a good movie. watch this one, then we can do whatever you want.”

you’d thought that would tempt him. but instead . . “i really like when you touch me. have i ever told you, your hands are so soft, and i might be one of those physical touch people. but i only want touch from you, all the time. what is that called?”

you sat, staring at him. “um . . obsessed.”

rafe nodded in your hands. “yeah, that’s it. i like touching you too . . ” he pulled your waist, head coming down onto your neck. you felt him take a breath. “and you smell good. jus’ wanna cover you in bites. can i, please?”

you sighed, not understanding how you two strayed from the movie this much. “so . . no movie?” rafe’s head came up, frowning at the look on your face. “no, we’re watching this movie. my baby wants to watch this movie, we’ll watch it. she gets anything she wants.”

you couldn’t help the smile that formed, “okay, yay. will you actually focus?” you rose your brow at him, mockingly serious.

“yep,” rafe rose his hands in surrender, “no touching . . ” he quickly put his hands back onto your waist, “actually, no. got to touch.”

you giggled out a, “fine,” and turned in his lap to continue the movie. “comfy?” you asked.

“of course,” you heard from behind you. “great. there’s four more movies after this.”

“there’s what?”

[princesseilish]

MAKE IT OUT

Boxer!Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Paige Bueckers is an up-and-coming boxer in New York, fighting to make a name for herself while navigating the gritty reality of life in the city. Her girlfriend, Y/n, works double shifts at a diner to make ends meet, their small apartment barely enough to live in. Despite their love for each other, the pressure of their struggles and Paige’s demanding boxing career threatens to pull them apart.

Warnings: Heavy emotional themes, Financial struggles and poverty, Depictions of physical exhaustion and injury (boxing-related),Mild language and suggestive, Angst and relationship tension

New York was a loud, chaotic city—impossible to escape, impossible to ignore. But inside their tiny apartment, it was quiet. Almost too quiet. The worn-out couch sagged in the middle, and the windows rattled every time a bus passed by, but that was home. That was their home.

Y/n wiped the last remnants of grease off her apron, flicking her long hair behind her shoulder as she stepped into the cramped kitchen. Her boss had kept her on the floor for hours longer than she’d planned. Of course, he’d made a few comments, too. The usual sleazy stuff—nothing she couldn’t handle, but it was enough to leave her feeling worn.

She kicked off her shoes, sighing. “Paige? You home?”

Paige’s voice floated from the living room, low and slightly muffled. “Yeah, just finishing up some stuff.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. She should’ve known. Paige was always “just finishing up some stuff.” More like she was.

“You want me to heat up dinner or something?” Y/n walked toward the living room, poking her head around the doorframe to see Paige, sprawled out on the couch in a pair of workout shorts, her body flexing as she went through her footwork drills. The glow from her phone screen lit up her face in the darkened room.

“You can heat up some food if you want, but I’m good,” Paige replied without looking up. She was already covered in sweat from training earlier, but there was something about the way she moved—aggressive and fluid, like a fighter in her prime. And Y/n hated it. She hated how much Paige pushed herself, even when it wasn’t necessary.

But then again, she loved it, too.

“You know, I don’t get why you don’t just let me help you more,” Y/n said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s not like you’re getting paid a ton for these fights.”

Paige stopped, finally looking up at her with a grin. “You’ve got your own stuff going on, babe. Don’t worry about me.” She turned back to her phone, scrolling through her manager’s messages. “I’ve got a fight coming up. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“Another fight?” Y/n scoffed, walking into the room and flopping onto the couch beside her. “You can’t even get enough sleep because of these stupid underground fights. That can’t be your answer, Paige.”

Paige shot her a look. She knew this conversation all too well. “If I don’t fight, what am I supposed to do, Y/n? Sit at home and wait for something to fall into my lap?”

“You could take a break for once. Let me take care of you,” Y/n said softly, glancing at her girlfriend’s clenched jaw. “It’s hard enough already. I don’t want to lose you, Paige. I just… I don’t want you to do something stupid.”

Paige exhaled deeply, resting her phone on the coffee table and running her hand through her damp hair. “I’m not doing something stupid. I’m doing what I’ve gotta do to survive. If I stop fighting, then everything—” she motioned to the small, cluttered apartment around them “—this goes. We go.”

Y/n’s heart sank. “I know. But it’s too much right now. You’re pushing yourself so hard… and for what? A scrap of cash every couple of weeks?”

“Every scrap adds up,” Paige shot back, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll get there. I promise.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her chest tight with frustration, love, and everything in between. “I’m already working two shifts at the diner. My boss—” She stopped herself. There was no need to get into it now. “It’s just… hard, okay? I’m so damn tired. And I know you’re tired too.”

Paige’s eyes softened, and she leaned over, brushing her hand against Y/n’s cheek. “I know you’re doing your best, babe. And I appreciate it. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. I just…” She sighed, dropping her head onto Y/n’s shoulder. “I just don’t know how to stop.”

Y/n let out a breath, running her fingers through Paige’s hair. “I don’t know either. But I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

Paige didn’t say anything for a long while, just sat there, pressed against Y/n as if she could hide from the weight of everything for a moment.

And Y/n didn’t mind. Not one bit.

A Couple Weeks Later

The evening was quieter than usual. Y/n had just gotten home from her shift, but Paige wasn’t in the living room. She walked into their tiny bedroom, and there she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at something on her phone.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You look… pensive.”

Paige glanced up. “I’m just waiting for the call. They want me to fight at the Underground League next weekend. It’s big. Could be my breakthrough.” She bit her lip, unsure of how to gauge Y/n’s reaction.

“Oh yeah? Big enough to make us not have to eat ramen for a month?” Y/n asked, leaning in the doorway.

Paige shot her a tired but playful smile. “Bigger. Maybe even a hundred bucks more than usual.”

“Wow, rich and famous now, huh?” Y/n teased.

Paige stood up and walked over to her, wrapping her arms around her waist. “More like still struggling. But I want us to be okay. I just want more than this, Y/n.”

Y/n sighed softly. “I know you do. I just wish it didn’t come with so many punches.”

Paige cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You know me. I’ll fight my way through it.”

Y/n smiled softly, her heart full of all the unspoken things between them. “Yeah. You will.”

Paige looked down at her. “But we’re doing this together, right?”

Y/n leaned into her, closing her eyes. “Yeah. We’ll get through this together. Even if it’s just one more fight at a time.”

It wasn’t a lot. But it was theirs.

And in the end, that was enough.

The Fight Night

Paige stood in the locker room, slipping her gloves on. Her coach paced nearby, talking to her about strategy, but her mind was elsewhere. She could feel the weight of the crowd outside the gym doors, waiting for her to fight. She hated the noise. The pressure.

But when she stepped out into the ring, her heart found its rhythm. She saw Y/n in the front row, standing with her arms crossed, her tired eyes fixed on Paige. She didn’t smile, didn’t cheer. She just watched.

Paige nodded to herself.

Just one more round.

And then maybe, just maybe, things would be different.

But for now, it was just the two of them. Fighting for what was theirs.

The sound of the crowd faded as Paige’s focus zeroed in on her opponent. Her gloves tightened around her fists, and her breath came in steady, controlled inhales. Each movement felt like a heartbeat, rhythmic and deliberate. This was what she’d been working for—this moment, this fight.

Her manager’s voice rang in her head, reminding her of the prize money, the opportunities that could follow, but Paige only had one thought on her mind: Y/n.

She glanced to the front row, catching her girlfriend’s tired, but determined eyes. Y/n didn’t look happy—she never did when Paige fought—but she was here. She always was.

The bell rang, snapping Paige out of her daze. The first punch from her opponent came fast, but Paige was faster. She dodged, countered, and landed a solid jab to the jaw. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but there was something different tonight. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The fight dragged on, round after round. Sweat stung her eyes, and every bruise felt like a reminder of the life they were living—the stress, the struggle, the fights both inside and outside the ring. She was getting close to breaking. The fight wasn’t going the way she expected.

But then, a familiar voice cut through the fog.

“Come on, Paige! You’ve got this!”

Y/n. Paige’s heart skipped a beat, the words cutting through the chaos. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough. It was always enough.

With a deep breath, Paige shifted gears, landing blow after blow. Her body moved like muscle memory, the pain forgotten, the exhaustion ignored. The fight was hers now.

As the final round approached, she could see it. Her opponent was slowing down, and so was she, but she could feel the end coming. She needed to finish this. For her, for Y/n, for everything they’d been through.

The crowd roared as the two fighters exchanged punches, both tired, both ready to give it all. But Paige had the last word. With a final, swift blow, she knocked her opponent to the mat, the referee counting down.

And just like that, it was over.

The bell rang. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Paige barely heard it. She collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her face. But through the haze, she saw Y/n.

The same tired, strained expression still on her face. But there was something else too—pride, maybe? Love? Paige couldn’t tell.

Y/n wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t disappointed either. She was here, and that was enough for Paige.

She stumbled to her feet, the weight of the victory barely sinking in. The manager was already on the phone, talking numbers. But Paige didn’t care. She stepped out of the ring and made her way toward the front row, her eyes locked on Y/n.

“You okay?” Y/n asked quietly, stepping toward her.

Paige took a shaky breath, a grin tugging at her lips. “I’m fine. I won.”

“I know.”

Y/n’s voice was soft, but there was a warmth to it, a softness Paige hadn’t expected. It was as if all the tension between them had melted away. She reached out, pulling Paige into an embrace, her arms wrapping around her tight.

Paige rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder, finally feeling like she could breathe again. “We’re gonna be alright, aren’t we?”

Y/n pulled back, looking up at her with that familiar glint in her eyes. “We’ll be fine. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we’ve got each other. That’s all we need.”

Paige smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it was everything.

Together. That’s all they needed.

As they walked out of the arena, the night still felt heavy. There was no guarantee that things would get better, no promises that the rent would be paid without another fight. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. They were making it through—just one more round at a time.

And that was all they had. And it was enough.

The following days weren’t easy, but they never really were. Paige’s manager was already pushing her to keep going, to find another fight, to make the next move. The money from the win was nice, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Not with rent overdue and Y/n still working those exhausting shifts at the diner.

But things had shifted, in a way. There was a quiet understanding between them, a subtle reassurance that neither one of them had to face this struggle alone. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was their reality, and they were in it together.

Y/n worked a double shift the night after the fight. Paige had told her to rest, to take the night off, but Y/n never could. She liked the independence it gave her, the sense that she could still contribute to their tiny apartment in some way. Even if it meant dealing with the perverted stares of her boss, she’d endure it to make sure they were okay.

“I’ll be alright,” Y/n had said as she grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.

Paige looked up from where she was lacing up her gloves. “You better be,” she said, her voice softer than usual. She hated that Y/n had to do this. She hated that Y/n had to work under conditions that made her uncomfortable. But she wasn’t in a position to do anything about it—not yet.

Y/n smiled weakly, but Paige could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She placed a hand on her cheek before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’ll see me later, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here when you get back.”

It wasn’t a lot—just a kiss, a touch. But in their world, it was everything. They didn’t have the luxury of big gestures. They didn’t have the space for extravagant dates or trips. They only had moments like this. Small but meaningful, like their own little secret.

Later that night, Paige couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The apartment felt quieter than usual, the stillness almost suffocating. She’d been training, punching at the bag with more intensity than necessary, her focus on the pain. But it wasn’t just physical—it was mental too. The fight she had won wasn’t enough. It never would be. Not when the world kept pushing back.

She grabbed her phone, debating whether to text Y/n, but she didn’t want to interrupt her. She knew she was probably on her break, and she didn’t want to add more stress. But after a few minutes, she gave in, typing a quick message:

Paige: “Miss you. Be safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She sent it and immediately regretted it. It sounded needy, weak, but it was how she felt. She was scared—scared of everything. Scared that they’d never escape this cycle. Scared that even with all her hard work, nothing would change.

The ping of a text cut through her thoughts:

Y/n: “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up for me. Just got a new tip from the old guy at the counter. Gross, but at least it’s money.”

Paige couldn’t help but feel a flash of anger. That old guy at the counter—she knew exactly who Y/n was talking about. The guy who made Y/n uncomfortable, the one who stared too long. She hated that Y/n had to deal with it. Hated that she felt forced to.

But she didn’t have the words. Not yet.

Instead, Paige responded with a simple message:

Paige: “Don’t let him get to you. I’ll be here. When you get home, we’ll forget about all of this.”

She stared at the words, wishing they were true. Wishing that they could just forget about the struggle, the stress, the pressure. But they couldn’t. They were stuck in it. Together.

When Y/n finally walked through the door hours later, looking exhausted but still managing a tired smile, Paige immediately crossed the room. She didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled Y/n into a hug, holding her tightly. It was all they could give each other right now.

“I’m so tired,” Y/n whispered, her voice muffled against Paige’s shoulder.

“I know,” Paige replied softly. “You don’t have to do it all, you know.”

Y/n pulled back, her eyes meeting Paige’s. “We don’t have a choice, Paige. You know that.”

Paige looked at her, her chest heavy with a truth they both had to face. “I know.”

But for a moment, they just stood there, holding each other, allowing the world outside to blur into nothing. In that moment, it didn’t matter that their rent was still overdue or that Y/n had to deal with disgusting customers at the diner. It didn’t matter that Paige’s manager was already breathing down her neck about her next fight. All that mattered was that they were together. And that, despite everything, was something worth holding on to.

“Tomorrow’s a new day,” Paige murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Y/n’s face.

Y/n nodded, her hands running up and down Paige’s back as if to ground herself. “Yeah. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

And with that, they fell asleep in the cramped bed they shared, the sound of the city just outside their window. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For now, it was all they had, and for as long as they had it, they’d keep fighting—together.

The following weeks were a blur of training and late shifts. The cycle never seemed to end. Paige’s fights, though more frequent, didn’t provide the recognition she needed. Her manager, ever impatient, pushed her harder, always looking for the next match, the next payday. But Paige was running on fumes. Her body ached, her hands bruised and calloused from hours of sparring and punching the bag. She was constantly battling fatigue, but every time she stepped into the ring, her mind was drawn to Y/n. To their life. To the future they wanted but couldn’t seem to grasp.

Meanwhile, Y/n’s job at the diner was slowly wearing her down. The tips were decent, but it wasn’t enough to make a real difference. Her boss—rude and lecherous—had grown bolder in his advances, making her feel more and more uncomfortable with every shift. Y/n wasn’t naïve; she knew that the best way to stay in his good graces was to smile and ignore his inappropriate comments. But it was getting harder to fake her enthusiasm, especially with the strain of her relationship with Paige constantly on her mind.

She missed the old days when it felt like they were invincible. When they could spend hours talking about their dreams without worrying about rent or bills. The love they shared had always been something pure, something real. But now, every conversation felt like it was tinged with frustration. She could see it in Paige’s eyes—her exhaustion, her frustration with the lack of progress. Paige was losing herself, piece by piece, and Y/n didn’t know how to help.

One night, after another draining shift, Y/n came home to find Paige sitting at the small table in their dingy kitchen, her gloves sitting beside her, her face buried in her hands. The apartment was eerily quiet, the usual hum of the city outside muted by the exhaustion that hung in the air.

Y/n stood at the doorway for a moment, unsure of what to say. She had a million things on her mind, things she wanted to confront, things she wanted to fix. But right now, all she could focus on was the woman in front of her, the woman who had fought so hard to get here.

“You good?” Y/n asked quietly, stepping into the room.

Paige didn’t look up, but the tremor in her voice gave her away. “I don’t know anymore.”

The words hit Y/n like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t that she didn’t know Paige was struggling—it was obvious—but hearing it out loud, hearing Paige admit it, made it all the more real. This wasn’t just a phase. This wasn’t just a bad week. This was the reality of their lives.

“I don’t want you to do this anymore,” Y/n whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself for nothing.”

Paige finally looked up, her eyes meeting Y/n’s, and for the first time in weeks, there was no deflection, no walls. There was only exhaustion and something deeper, something painful.

“I don’t have a choice, Y/n,” Paige said softly. “I don’t. We’re barely getting by, and I’m not even close to being good enough. If I don’t keep pushing, we’ll lose everything. Everything we’re trying to build… it’ll be gone.”

Y/n’s heart ached at the words, at the desperation in Paige’s voice. She had always admired Paige’s determination, her unwavering drive to succeed. But lately, it felt like that drive was driving them apart rather than bringing them together.

“I know you’re trying, P. I know you’re doing everything you can. But you’re killing yourself for something that might not even happen. You don’t need to do this for me. You don’t need to do this for anyone. Not if it means losing yourself in the process.”

Paige’s eyes flashed, the weight of Y/n’s words cutting deeper than she expected. “So what do you want me to do? Stop fighting? Stop trying to make something of myself? Stop trying to give us a future?”

Y/n took a step closer, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want you to stop hurting yourself. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. And I can’t do this anymore, P. I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay when we’re both just… drowning.”

The silence in the room was suffocating. It felt like they were both holding their breath, waiting for the other to crack, to admit the truth. Y/n could feel her chest tightening, the tears welling up behind her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Paige said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just… I just wanted to fix everything.”

Y/n reached out, cupping Paige’s face in her hands, her thumb gently brushing away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I know. I know you did.”

They stood there for a long moment, neither of them knowing what the next step would be. All they knew was that they had reached a breaking point, a crossroads in their relationship that neither of them had anticipated. Y/n wasn’t sure if they could keep going down this path, but she knew one thing for certain: they couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Paige murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” Y/n whispered back. “We’re in this mess together, P. We’ve always been.”

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n believed it. Whatever the future held, they’d face it together.

The next few days were a blur of heavy conversations and quiet moments shared between Paige and Y/n. They had always been able to talk about anything, but now, it felt like they were both navigating a minefield, every word carrying the weight of their unspoken fears.

Y/n continued to work double shifts at the diner, her boss’s lecherous comments still lingering in her mind. It was hard to focus on anything other than the constant stress of making ends meet. Paige, on the other hand, was training harder than ever, as if each punch she threw could somehow punch away all the tension and anxiety clouding her mind. But it wasn’t working. She could feel the pressure building, her muscles screaming for rest, but she couldn’t stop.

One evening, after another long day for both of them, they found themselves sitting in their tiny kitchen, a take-out container between them. The silence was thick, but neither of them knew what to say anymore. It felt like everything they had been trying to hold together was slowly slipping through their fingers.

“I’ve been thinking…” Paige finally broke the silence, her voice quiet but firm. “Maybe it’s time for me to step back from boxing for a little while.”

Y/n’s head snapped up, surprised by the admission. “What? Really?”

Paige sighed, running her hand through her hair. “Yeah. I don’t know… I’ve been pushing so hard, and it’s not helping. It’s only making things worse. I can’t keep pretending like I can handle everything—this, you, the pressure from my manager, the bills… I don’t know if I can do it anymore.”

Y/n’s heart ached hearing the vulnerability in Paige’s voice. She had always seen Paige as this unbreakable force, the one who always had a plan, who always knew what to do. But now, she was seeing a side of Paige she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before—a side that was uncertain and unsure of what to do next.

“I don’t want you to stop fighting,” Y/n said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But if you need to take a break… I won’t be mad. I just want you to be okay.”

Paige met Y/n’s gaze, her eyes searching for something—something that might tell her she was making the right choice. She had always put Y/n first, always tried to protect her from the chaos of her life, but right now, she wasn’t sure how to do that. How could she protect Y/n when she felt so lost herself?

“I’m sorry,” Paige said, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean for things to get like this. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Y/n reached across the table, taking Paige’s hand in hers. “You didn’t drag me into anything, P. I chose to be here. I chose you. But we have to face the fact that we can’t keep going like this. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

Paige squeezed her hand, her heart aching at the truth in Y/n’s words. She wanted so badly to fix everything—to make everything right—but she didn’t know how. She was stuck in a cycle of stress, self-doubt, and exhaustion, and no matter how hard she fought, it didn’t seem to be getting any better.

“You’re right,” Paige whispered, looking down at their joined hands. “I don’t know how to make this work anymore.”

Y/n didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing: she wasn’t going to give up on them. Not now, not ever.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly, pulling Paige closer. “We always do. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get through it together. We don’t need everything. We don’t need all the things we’ve been chasing. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

Paige rested her forehead against Y/n’s, taking a deep breath. She didn’t know if she believed that yet, but in that moment, with Y/n’s arms around her, she could almost imagine it. Maybe they didn’t need all the answers right now. Maybe they just needed to take things one step at a time.

“I love you,” Paige murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/n smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Paige’s face. “I love you, too. And that’s enough for me.”

The days that followed weren’t easy. Paige took a step back from boxing, deciding to give herself some time to breathe, to think about what she truly wanted. Y/n continued to work at the diner, but she started looking for other opportunities, determined to find a way out of the rut they were stuck in. There were still arguments, still moments of frustration, but they were learning to navigate it all together. Slowly, they were rebuilding their life, piece by piece.

It wasn’t perfect, far from it. But it was theirs. And for the first time in a long time, that felt enough.

Paige sat on the edge of their threadbare couch, staring blankly at the phone in her hand. The bright screen illuminated her face in the dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing down on her. She had received the offer she’d been waiting for—an invitation to the biggest boxing tournament of her life. It could be the break she needed, the one that could finally lift them out of the cramped, run-down apartment they called home. But there was a catch.

Leave New York. No distractions. No one by your side. Just you, the fight, and the opportunity to prove yourself.

She ran a hand through her hair, glancing around at their tiny space. The apartment was falling apart, the rent barely covered by the tips Y/n made working double shifts at the diner. They’d been scraping by for months now, and Paige knew that if she wanted a future, if they wanted a future, she needed this. The chance to win could change everything.

But then the ultimatum hit her like a gut punch. If she wanted to go, if she wanted this shot, she had to leave Y/n behind.

Paige could already feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest. Y/n didn’t deserve to be stuck here, in this dangerous part of the city, while Paige chased a dream. She knew how tough it was for Y/n. She had seen it in her tired eyes every night when she came home from work, exhausted from waiting tables, dealing with creepy bosses, and barely making ends meet. Paige wanted to shield her from all of it. But the truth was, leaving her behind for a week felt like ripping her heart out. She hated the thought of it.

When Y/n came home from work that night, the exhaustion written all over her face, Paige tried to hide her turmoil, but she couldn’t mask the uncertainty in her eyes.

Y/n dropped her bag with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Hey,” she greeted softly, moving toward Paige. “How was your day?”

Paige gave a tired smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Same old, just… thinking.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about what?”

Paige hesitated, knowing what she was about to say would change everything. “I got the offer. The tournament. The one I’ve been working for.”

Y/n’s face lit up with surprise. “Wait, really? That’s amazing, P! This is it! This is your shot!”

Paige’s throat tightened as she looked down at her hands. “There’s a catch,” she whispered.

Y/n’s expression faltered. “What do you mean?”

“I have to leave. I have to go out of town for a week, no distractions. It’s part of the deal. My manager—he wants me to focus completely on the fight.”

Y/n’s face softened, and she stepped closer, her hands resting gently on Paige’s shoulders. “Then go. You have to take this. It’s your dream, it’s what you’ve been fighting for.”

Paige looked up at her, her heart breaking. “I don’t want to leave you behind. Not like this.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed. “Paige, I get it. I really do. You have to do this for us, for both of us. We can’t keep living like this, you know that. I don’t want you to stay here because of me. Go. Take the shot. I want you to.”

“But—” Paige’s voice cracked. “But I can’t leave you here. Alone. Not in this place, not with everything going on here. It’s not safe. You know it’s not.”

Y/n’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped back, crossing her arms. “You think I can’t handle it?”

Paige immediately regretted her words. “No, Y/n, that’s not what I mean. I just—” She ran a hand over her face, feeling the weight of her choices crashing down on her. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go without you, but I know this could change everything. I need to take this chance. I need to prove myself.”

Y/n’s eyes softened as she met Paige’s gaze. “I know you do. And I want that for you. But I want you to know something, P.”

Paige looked up, confusion swirling in her chest. “What?”

“I want you to go,” Y/n said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to take this. I want you to fight, to chase your dream. I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back. But I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” Paige asked, her voice shaking.

“Promise me you won’t forget about us. Promise me you won’t come back and tell me it wasn’t worth it, if it means losing me in the process. I don’t care about the money or the recognition. I care about you. You’ve already given so much to this. But you can’t lose me in the process.”

Paige’s heart shattered at the weight of Y/n’s words. She couldn’t bear the thought of coming back and seeing Y/n lost, hurt, or feeling abandoned. She reached out, cupping Y/n’s face gently. “I’m not going to lose you. I swear. But I can’t promise I won’t be torn apart by this, too. I need you, Y/n. But I need this too. For both of us.”

Y/n sighed, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “I know, P. I know. Go. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

Paige closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of Y/n’s touch, feeling the weight of the decision she was about to make. She didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to be without her for a single day. But sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. And this, this was one Paige knew she had to take.

“I love you,” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the uncertainty hanging in the air.

Paige kissed her forehead, knowing that no matter what happened, she couldn’t lose sight of what was important. The fight, the opportunity, it was everything. But Y/n? She was forever.

The week came too quickly, and Paige found herself standing at the door of their apartment, bag slung over her shoulder. Y/n was there, her eyes soft but determined, the silence between them more deafening than anything they had said. Paige took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This moment, this goodbye—however temporary it was—felt like everything.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Paige said, her voice wavering despite her best efforts.

Y/n nodded, but there was something about her eyes—something hidden behind that familiar, understanding gaze—that made Paige’s heart ache in ways she didn’t know it could.

“I know,” Y/n said quietly. “And when you get back, we’ll be closer to where we want to be.”

Paige wanted to say something, wanted to promise her the world, but the lump in her throat stopped her. All she could do was nod, her hand reaching for Y/n’s, squeezing it tightly.

“I love you,” Paige whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n said softly, her thumb tracing circles over Paige’s hand. “But you’ll be back. And when you are… we’ll figure everything out. I know you’ll make it. You’re the strongest person I know.”

And with that, Paige turned and walked out the door, Y/n’s words echoing in her mind as the cold air hit her skin. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave Y/n behind. But this was their future, and this fight—this chance—was their ticket to something bigger. Something better.

The tournament was brutal. The fights were intense, and Paige’s body took a beating that made her question whether she could keep going. But there was something inside of her—something that wouldn’t let her stop. Each round, each punch thrown at her, made her think of Y/n. Her face. Her touch. The way Y/n had believed in her even when Paige couldn’t believe in herself. That was the strength Paige needed.

She fought harder than she ever had, pushing through the pain, the exhaustion, and the self-doubt. It was a long, grueling night, but when the final bell rang and the judges announced her as the winner, Paige felt like she had won more than just a title.

She had won their future.

Back in New York, Y/n was waiting, as she had promised, always waiting. She had worked long shifts, doubled up to make ends meet, but with each paycheck, with each passing day, she believed a little more in the dream they had. A dream of a future, of a home where they could rest, laugh, love.

Y/n had her own moments of doubt, her own moments of struggle. But every night, she would look at the small picture on their fridge—a snapshot from a day spent at the beach, just the two of them, laughing as they splashed in the waves. That was the reminder. They were building something together, even when it felt like everything around them was falling apart.

Months passed (i switched it, oops) Paige finally returned, just as promised. She was different—stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. The tournament had changed her, and with it, her determination. She had a new kind of fire in her eyes, and it was all for them.

The moment she stepped back into their tiny apartment, Y/n rushed to her, wrapping her arms around Paige in a tight embrace. The world outside seemed to stop, everything slowing as they held each other close. Paige kissed her softly, a promise in that kiss—one she had carried with her all this time.

“I did it,” Paige whispered, her forehead resting against Y/n’s. “I won, Y/n. I did it for us.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I knew you would.”

They stayed like that, in the quiet of their little apartment, with nothing more than the sound of their breaths and the beating of their hearts.

But now, the future was uncertain in the best way possible. The door was wide open. Paige’s boxing career had taken off, and with it, new opportunities were beginning to unfold. They could leave New York, go anywhere, do anything. The world was suddenly theirs to conquer.

It was a few months later when Paige took Y/n’s hand and led her to the roof of their building, a small ring tucked in her pocket. The city was alive below them, the lights sparkling against the night sky, but all Paige could see was Y/n. She had everything she needed right there.

Y/n looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What are we doing up here?”

Paige smiled softly. “I wanted to ask you something. Something important.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile teasing. “What, are we getting married?”

Paige laughed, but the sound quickly turned into something more serious, more real. “Actually… yeah. I think we should.”

Y/n blinked in surprise, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest. “Wait, are you serious?”

Paige dropped to one knee, the ring gleaming in the city lights. “I’ve always been serious about you, Y/n. You’re my everything. Through all the mess, all the struggles, I want to face it all with you. Forever.”

Y/n’s breath caught, and the tears she had been holding back all night finally spilled over. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

As Paige slid the ring on her finger, a tear escaped her own eye. She had fought for this moment, fought for them, and in that moment, the world felt like it was theirs to take.

They kissed, the noise of the city fading into the background, their hearts beating in unison, knowing that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was theirs.

And that was enough.

The end of one chapter, but the beginning of their forever.

[kitchen-spoon]

It was a Rainy day in April when the ER doors flew open and Eddie was called over to an ambulance that just pulled in. A gurney was being guided out the back and on it lay the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen. Tan, and muscular in a basketball jersey covered in mud. Somehow even soaking wet and dirty the mans hair was immaculate. His head was thrown back in pain, eyes squeezed shut as he gripped at his swollen very dislocated knee.

Normally being a head orthopaedic surgeon he wouldn’t be down in the pit but, chicago Easts E.R lost power due to the storm and has started referring everything over to them. It was all hands on deck right now.

“Put him in trauma room 2, I’ll take care of it, it’s a simple dislocation.” Eddie ordered. He followed them inside and helped transfer the man over onto the bed. “Someone tell me who this guy is.” He called out exasperated.

“Steve Harrington.” The man - Steve pipped up.

“Thank you.” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. He took Steve’s chart away and shooed everyone else from the room.

He approached the bed again, gloved hands settling on Steve swollen purpling knee. Steve hissed at the slightest touch of the area. His kneecap was raised and twisted to the left.

“Your knee is dislocated Steve, its swollen but once its re-located the swelling will go down with some elevation and icing. Also, You should wrap your knee for the next month if your going to be playing sports again.”

“All that without any X-rays or tests?” Steve chuckled. One of his eyes was squinted open and he was smirking at Eddie, his eyebrow raised.

Eddie wasn’t one to brag but, he also wasn’t one to waste a chance to peacock a little in the name of flirting with a tan, hairy, muscular man with perfect hair.

“I’m the head orthopaedic surgeon in this hospital. I deal with much more complicated circumstances than this everyday.” Eddie shrugged, smirking back.

“Why do I get the best of the best then if i’m just a simple dislocation?” Steve’s body didn’t tense up this time when Eddie touched him, too distracted to notice yet. “Did you get in trouble or something?” He giggled.

“No.” Eddie looked up at him, smiling proudly as he spoke. “I’m head of my my department Sweetheart, and I’m good at what I do. Best of the best like you said.”

Steve finally winced, looking down as Eddie lined his hands up, he didn’t apply any pressure yet. “The Chicago East ER is shut down so we are taking the over flow from the storm.” Eddie continued on, he watched Steve face as he gripped his knee.

“Guess I just got lucky then.” Steve laughed tightly.

“I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can Stevie.” Eddie said as he locked eyes with Steve’s wide hazel doe eyes. He looked like a baby deer it made Eddie’s heart squeeze. “On the count of 3 Stevie, you got this.”

Steve nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. He counted out, “one…two..”

Eddie braced his feet on the floor and bent his knees on one. And on two he forced Steve’s leg straight and pushed his kneecap back over.

“Mother fucker.” Steve grit through his clenched jaw. His hand reached out and landed on Eddie’s forearm gripping tight.

Once his knee was in place Eddie let go and held Steve’s hand instead. “Good job sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” Steve replied automatically, then blushed when he caught himself.

“I’ll wrap your knee, remember to ice it.” Eddie got up and grabbed the stretch bandages from the cart.

He wrapped Steve’s knee methodically, occasionally looking up to check on Steve. Every time he did Steve was laying there with his eyes closed a smile on his face.

“All done.” Eddie said quietly as he finished, he didn’t want to startle Steve. Instead he slid a hand up Steve’s outer thigh.

Steve laid there for another 10 seconds then opened his eyes and looked to Eddie, silently reaching a hand up to ask for help.

Eddie complied of course, he slid his hands into Steve’s and gently pulled the man up. Once he was sitting up Steve didn’t let go of Eddies hands. “Are you single Eddie the head orthopaedic surgeon?”

Eddie smiled, “I am. But how old are you.” Eddie was hopeful but he still wanted to ask. He wasn’t going to date a college student at 35.

“I’m 29.” Steve sounded hopeful.

“I’m 35,” Eddie squeezed his hands.

“Take my number?” Steve bit his lip.

It was Eddie’s turn to blush as he nodded, grabbing the note pad off the supply cart.

Steve wrote his number in big swoopy strokes and singed his name off with a heart. He handed it to Eddie then got up off the chair. “Call me.” He whispered in Eddie’s ear as he passed by, placing a hand on his shoulder. The fingers on his free hand rested on Eddie’s chin turning it towards him, he leaned in slowly, eyes watching Eddie closely until their lips finding touch and they slipped closed. He ended the kiss off biting Eddie’s lip, dragging it between his teeth has he pulled away.

“Bye Eddie.” He whispered, then turned away walking out of the trauma room.

Eddie watched him go, and when he couldn’t see him any longer he looked down at the paper with Steve’s number and bit his own lip.

The moment didn’t last long, a nurse crashing through the door and calling him over to a trauma bay. He put Steve’s number in his pocket and tied his hair up, heading over to his next patient.

[therogueflame]

By Fire, By Right

hi lovebugs,

I am SO sorry that this took so long, i just didnt have the motivation to do it. i did not proofread before posting. is it obvious i wrote this in an hour? oopsies. This one is shorter than both the Small Council and Steel and Silk, but thats bc it has literally 0 plot. none. zilch. enjoy

✨My Masterlist✨

🖊️ My AO3 🖊️

Summary: On the night of your wedding, beneath the glow of candlelight and the weight of ancient vows, Aegon takes what has always been his.

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, Sex (p in v), oral (fem!receiving), no use of y/n, but implied fem!reader

King Aegon II x Wife!Queen!Reader

MDNI!!!!

The bedchamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, golden flickers casting shadows over rich silks and cold stone. The air carried the faint scent of dragonfire and myrrh, clinging to your skin, a lingering trace of the vows spoken before gods and men. The chamber had been prepared with great care, the bed draped in deep crimson, an unspoken expectation woven into the hush that settled between you.

The feast had stretched long into the night, filled with wine, music, and endless toasts to your health and happiness. Lords had lifted their cups in grand displays, their words full of empty flattery, their voices loud with drunken revelry. The finest dishes in the realm had been set before you, the grandest musicians had played their songs, but none of it had mattered.

Not to him.

Aegon had barely touched his cup, ignoring the endless flow of wine that had been pressed into his hands throughout the night. His focus had remained on you, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable but intent. There had been no outward impatience, no sign of discontent, yet the way he had watched you told you everything. He had been waiting for this moment more than he cared to admit.

Now, at last, you were alone.

The chamber doors had closed behind you, shutting out the sounds of the lingering celebration, leaving only the crackle of the hearthfire and the quiet rhythm of your own breath.

Aegon sat at the edge of the marriage bed, his tunic loose at the collar, exposing a sliver of his chest. His crown lay discarded on a nearby table, its weight abandoned for the night. His violet eyes roamed over you, the same way they always had, but tonight, something had changed.

You had been his before this night. In whispers exchanged beneath the cover of darkness. In hands that had learned the shape of you in secret. In nights where restraint had faltered and desire had outweighed duty. In the way he reached for you when no one was looking, in the way he had always pulled you closer rather than let you go.

Yet tonight was different.

There was no need for secrecy, no need to slip away before the dawn. There were no barriers left between you, no pretense, no stolen moment that had to end before it had truly begun. Tonight, he did not have to claim you in haste. Tonight, you were his, and he was yours, and there was nowhere left to run.

"You are staring," you said, stepping closer, your fingers reaching for the ties at his sleeves.

Aegon did not blink, did not look away. The candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making the violet of his eyes seem darker, more intense. His lips curved, slow and knowing, but he did not move. He let you come to him, let you reach for him, let you think you had the upper hand.

Before you could undo the laces at his wrist, he caught your hands. His grip was firm but unhurried, his touch more possessive than forceful. His thumb brushed lazily over your pulse, his touch warm and deliberate as he studied you, taking his time. He looked at you as if he had all the time in the world.

A smirk tugged at his lips, the same self-assured expression he always wore when he knew he had already won. "Can you blame me?" His voice was low, rough with amusement, but beneath it lay something else, something heavier.

His fingers curled around your wrists, holding them in place as his gaze roamed over you. He did not speak immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you feel the weight of his attention. Then, finally, he murmured, "I have had you before, but tonight, you are mine in every way."

Heat curled in your stomach, pooling low as the words settled between you. You had always known him to be like this—arrogant, indulgent, utterly shameless in his claims over you—but there was something else in the way he looked at you now. There was no teasing lilt, no boyish grin. He was not just claiming you because he could. He was claiming you because, tonight, there was no need to steal anything. Tonight, nothing could take you from him.

"You have always been mine," you reminded him, tilting your chin up slightly. Your voice was steady, but you could hear the breathlessness in it, feel the way your heart pounded against your ribs.

His smirk widened, a spark of challenge flickering in his eyes. "Then let me remind you."

He pulled you onto his lap with practiced ease, his hands finding your waist and settling there as if they had always belonged. His grip was firm, his thumbs pressing into the fabric of your wedding gown as though he wished to tear through it, but he did not rush.

He exhaled slowly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your throat. He did not kiss you. Not yet. Instead, he lingered there, his lips grazing your skin, savoring the moment before he took what he already knew was his.

"This should feel no different," he murmured, his voice quieter now. His hands tightened at your waist, his hold possessive. "And yet."

You let out a slow breath, fingers threading through his golden hair, savoring the softness of it, the familiar heat of him.

"And yet," you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of the night settled between you, thick with something deeper than desire. This was Not a secret meeting behind closed doors. Not a rushed moment stolen between responsibilities. No hushed whispers in darkened corridors, no hurried touches before duty called you away. There was no shame, no fear of discovery, nothing left to keep you apart.

Only certainty.

Aegon cupped your cheek, his fingers warm against your skin as he tilted your face to his. His touch was not demanding but deliberate, his gaze searching yours in the dim candlelight. The teasing edge he so often carried had melted into something softer, something deeper.

"Let me take my time with you," he murmured, his voice quieter now, heavy with something unspoken. "Tonight, I have no reason to rush."

The words sent a slow warmth through you, one that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with him. There was a promise in them, an unspoken vow that had nothing to do with duty or expectation. This was not a night for reckless passion or frantic need. It was a night for something greater.

You smiled, pressing your forehead to his, your touch soft and knowing. "Then take all the time you need."

Aegon let out a slow breath, one that felt almost like relief, before his lips found yours.

The kiss was slow and deep, nothing like the frenzied nights before. It was not a desperate claim or a demand but a confirmation of what had always been. He was yours, and you were his.

His hands skimmed over your back, moving with deliberate ease, gliding down the curve of your spine until his fingers found the delicate lacing that held your gown in place. He did not fumble, did not rush. Each tug and pull of the ties was patient, a testament to his practiced skill. As the fabric slackened and slipped away from your shoulders, he bent forward, pressing his lips to the newly revealed skin, his warm breath brushing against you like a whispered secret.

"I have dreamed of this moment," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety rasp against your skin. "Of undressing you slowly, savoring every inch of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, not from nerves but from the weight of them. You knew he spoke the truth. In all the times he had touched you before, there had always been a lingering urgency, a stolen moment that could not last long enough. But now there was no need for restraint, no need to keep his hands from wandering or his mouth from lingering.

Slowly, the layers of your wedding gown pooled around you, the rich fabric forgotten as it slid from your body. You were left in nothing but your shift, the delicate linen barely concealing the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. Aegon’s hands traced every inch of bare skin, his fingers gliding along the newly exposed flesh as if learning you all over again.

He was in no rush to claim you, no rush to take what had already been his in every way but this one. Instead, he took his time, savoring each touch, each brush of his lips, each soft sound that escaped you as he worshipped every inch of you.

He had called you his queen before the realm, but here, beneath the glow of candlelight, he made you feel like one.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered against your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbone.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he continued to explore your body with eager hands. The heat between you grew with each passing second, a slow burn that promised to consume you both. With a low growl, Aegon stood, lifting you with him. He carried you over to the bed and gently placed you down on the soft furs. His eyes drank in every inch of your exposed skin before he joined you on the bed.

He hovered over you, his weight resting on his forearms as he gazed down at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Aegon's lips claimed yours once more in a kiss filled with passion and longing. His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that drove any coherent thoughts from your mind. Your own hands were busy too – eagerly exploring every inch of his hard, muscular frame.

His hands continued their deliberate exploration, carefully peeling away the layers of your gown with a tenderness that belied his strength. Each new patch of skin, exposed to the cool air, was immediately claimed by his lips, his tongue, or the gentle scrape of his teeth, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he lingered on particularly sensitive spots, drawing out soft gasps of pleasure.

“You're still wearing too much,” you murmured, your fingers tugging insistently at the hem of his tunic.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against your skin. “Patience, my love. We have all night.”

Nevertheless, he released you momentarily, just long enough to pull the garment over his head, revealing the hard planes of his body. The flickering candlelight danced across his skin, highlighting every taut muscle and old scar. Your hands roamed eagerly over his chest, tracing the ridges of past battles and the firm definition of his abdomen, each touch reaffirming the magnetic pull between you.

Aegon's eyes darkened with lust as you explored his body. He captured your lips again, the kiss deeper and more urgent now. His hands slid down to your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you closer. You could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you through the remaining layers of fabric.

"I want to see all of you," he breathed against your mouth. With a fluid motion, he lifted you and laid you back on the bed. His gaze raked over you hungrily as he slowly removed the last of your gown, leaving you bare before him.

You flushed under his intense scrutiny, but there was no shame in it. This was your husband, your king, the man who had chosen you above all others. You reached for him, drawing him down to you.

Aegon's body covered yours, his weight a delicious pressure as he settled between your thighs. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming. You ran your hands down his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin as he moved against you.

"You are exquisite," he murmured, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Aegon's lips moved with deliberate precision, tracing the path of his hand and leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to ignite your skin. He devoted himself to your breasts, switching between tender, feather-like touches and more demanding caresses that pulled involuntary gasps of his name from your lips.

Your fingers wove into the soft strands of his hair as he descended lower, planting a series of open-mouthed kisses across your abdomen. Each press of his lips made your breath catch in your throat as Aegon's mouth journeyed further down, his tongue crafting intricate patterns on your flushed skin. He lingered at your hip, delivering a playful nip that sent a shiver through you before he soothed the spot with a gentle kiss. His violet eyes, deepened with an intense longing, locked onto yours as he nestled himself between your thighs, ready to explore further.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. "To savor every part of you."

You nodded, your voice lost in the whirlwind of anticipation as Aegon lowered his mouth to your most intimate place. The first tentative swipe of his tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your body, causing your back to arch off the bed as if pulled by invisible strings, a breathless gasp escaping your lips. His strong hands, firm and steady, clamped onto your hips, anchoring you in place as he embarked on a thorough exploration with lips and tongue, each movement deliberate and expertly executed.

Aegon's dedication was unwavering, his technique a seamless dance between broad, sweeping strokes and precise, focused attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves that sent fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids. Your fingers instinctively dove into the cascade of his silver-gold hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more as exquisite pleasure coiled tightly within you. Sensing your urgency, Aegon responded with eagerness, his tongue delving deeper, tasting and teasing with an artistry that spoke of familiarity and skill. He knew every curve and contour of your body, understood exactly how to touch you to ignite a fervent, all-consuming desire.

"Aegon," you gasped, your hips rolling against his mouth. "Please..."

He hummed a low, resonant tune against your collarbone, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, like ripples on a pond's surface. His left hand remained firmly on your hip, fingers pressing into your soft flesh, while his right hand began a slow, tantalizing journey up your trembling thigh. You felt each of his calloused fingertips as they inched higher, teasing at your entrance, circling slowly before pressing inside with deliberate care. The dual sensation of his tongue, warm and wet, drawing circles on your clit, and his fingers curling inside you, stroking your inner walls, had you careening towards the edge of ecstasy.

Aegon's ministrations grew more intense, his fingers working in tandem with his tongue, a harmonious dance designed to bring you closer and closer to the peak. His tongue lapped against you, alternating between swift flicks and long, languid strokes, while his fingers crooked inside you, beckoning forth your orgasm. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as your body trembled with need, muscles tensing in anticipation. When he curled his fingers just so, hitting that perfect spot inside you, a hidden treasure trove of sensation, the tension finally snapped.

Pleasure crashed over you in waves, a relentless tide that left you crying out his name, your back arching sharply off the bed, sheets fisting in your hands. Aegon didn't relent, drawing out your climax with gentle licks and caresses, his fingers still moving languidly inside you, until you were quivering and oversensitive, your body pulsing with aftershocks. Only then did he press a final, tender kiss to your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, before moving back up your body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, and you could taste your own saltiness on his tongue, a primal, intimate exchange.

Aegon's body pressed against yours, his arousal evident as he settled between your thighs. His violet eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you, a mix of tenderness and hunger in his expression. You reached up to cup his face, drawing him down for another kiss.

"I need you," you whispered against his lips, your body still thrumming with aftershocks of pleasure.

Aegon's hand glided down the curve of your waist, his fingers tracing the contours of your body before firmly gripping your thigh. He gently lifted your leg, draping it over his hip, aligning himself at your entrance with careful precision. The warmth radiating from him was palpable, hinting at the imminent intimacy you both craved.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Aegon leaned forward, his chest pressing against yours as he enveloped you in a close embrace. Both of you gasped, a shared intake of breath as the familiar, electrifying sensation of him filling you completely surged through your senses. He paused momentarily, his forehead resting tenderly against yours, your mingled breaths creating a warm, shared space. In response, you rolled your hips with a silent plea, urging him to continue. Aegon responded, establishing a languid pace that had your back arching beneath him, your body instinctively synchronizing with the deep, measured rhythm he set. Each deliberate stroke sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, urging him deeper into the connection you both shared.

Aegon's rhythm was unhurried and intentional, each movement deliberate as he maintained an unwavering gaze, eyes locked with yours. He moved with a languid grace, each thrust carefully measured to extract the utmost pleasure for both of you. The tension simmered within your core, a coil winding tighter with every precise roll of his hips. When he angled just right, hitting a particularly sensitive spot, a gasp escaped your lips, and your fingers instinctively dug into his shoulders, leaving small crescent-shaped impressions on his skin.

As the fervor of the moment began to consume him, Aegon's pace shifted from steady to frantic. His control wavered, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath a warm, ragged pant against your skin. His movements became more fervent, driven by a primal urgency. You wrapped your arms around him, holding on with desperation, as the overwhelming cascade of sensations threatened to drown you both.

With Aegon's thrusts becoming faster and more intense, your body quivered on the brink of another climax, every nerve electrified. The room reverberated with the melody of your shared passion—sharp, ragged gasps mingling with deep, resonant moans, accompanied by the steady, rhythmic creak of the wooden bed frame beneath you, which groaned in protest with each movement. Your fingers ventured down Aegon's spine, feeling the taut muscles ripple and contract beneath your touch, his skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration that caught the dim candlelight flickering in the chamber.

"Look at me," Aegon commanded, his voice roughened with a primal desire, cutting through the dimly lit atmosphere. You complied, lifting your gaze to meet his, where the intensity of his violet eyes seemed to pierce through you with an almost palpable force. The usual color of his irises was nearly eclipsed by the inky blackness of his pupils, dilated wide with lust, consuming the vibrant hue in a sea of darkness.

As you locked eyes with him, his gaze seemed to pull you into an ocean of intensity, and the room around you blurred into insignificance. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body, each one building upon the last. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust more determined than the one before, expertly hitting that perfect spot inside you. You felt yourself hovering on the brink, every nerve tingling with anticipation, so close to that ultimate release.

"Come for me," Aegon growled, his voice a deep, commanding whisper that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. "Let me feel you." His words were a potent mix of demand and encouragement, resonating deep within you and urging you to surrender.

The combination of his words and a particularly deep, precise thrust sent you tumbling over the edge. You cried out his name, your voice echoing with the ecstasy that surged through you, your body tightening around him in response. Aegon's groan was guttural, his rhythm stuttering as your climax triggered his own. With a final, forceful thrust, he drove himself deep within you, releasing as he reached his peak, his body shuddering with the intensity of it all.

For several moments, you both lay entwined, bodies trembling and hearts racing as you came down from the heights of passion. Aegon's weight pressed you into the mattress, a comforting anchor as the room slowly came back into focus. His breath was warm against your neck, each exhale sending a small shiver through you.

Gradually, Aegon lifted his head, his violet eyes meeting yours once more. The intensity from before had softened, replaced by a tender warmth that made your heart swell. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, as if savoring the moment.

"My queen," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "My wife."

You smiled up at him, reaching to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the faint flush that still lingered on his skin. "My king," you replied softly. "My husband."

Aegon exhaled a quiet breath, leaning into your touch. For once, he did not speak, did not smirk or tease. He simply held you, his arms tightening around you as if anchoring himself in your warmth. The weight of the night settled between you, not in duty or expectation, but in something real, something that had always been there, waiting for this moment to be fully realized.

The candles burned low, their golden glow flickering against the chamber walls, casting soft shadows that swayed with the dying light. The world beyond this room, with all its expectations and burdens, had faded into nothing. The court did not matter, nor did the crown or the weight of what tomorrow would bring.

Here, in the quiet of your wedding night, there was only the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the unshakable truth that you belonged to each other completely.

Aegon held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if nothing could pull you from him. And for tonight, nothing would.

[itsnesss]

helllo cud u pls write a MinHo x reader ff where they are already dating but the gang decided to prank min ho with having reader cheating on him with Dae happy ending pls MinHo being insecure heartbrokened

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | light angst (minho’s insecurity and jealousy), fluff and comfort, miscommunication (brief), emotional vulnerability, happy ending

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Dating Minho had always been an adventure filled with intense emotions, especially now that you had been together for a while. From his smug smile to his slightly possessive attitude, every moment with him was unpredictable. Sometimes, his jokes and sarcastic remarks were just his way of making you laugh, but other times, like now, you knew something was off. Because even though Minho seemed to have everything under control, he wasn’t immune to insecurity.

It all started as a simple prank, one of those the gang pulled just for fun. You were at the café, enjoying some time with Q and Florian, when you heard Kitty’s mischievous giggle — never a good sign.

“By the way, Minho,” she said, glancing at his table where Dae and Minho sat, “what would you do if she left you for Dae?”

You froze for a second, eyes fixed on Kitty before turning to Minho, who raised an eyebrow at her words.

“What?” Minho replied, clearly caught off guard. His tone was irritated, though he tried to cover it up with a forced laugh.

Dae raised his hands in surrender. “Hey! It’s not that serious, we’re just joking.”

Q joined in, adding fuel to the fire. “I mean, don’t you think Dae and her have good chemistry? I always see them hanging out together, Minho. What do you think?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to downplay it. “Come on, don’t start.”

But the tension between you and Minho was palpable. What had started as a harmless joke now seemed to be bothering him more than it should. From afar, Minho tried to keep a façade of indifference, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed and how his smile slowly faded.

Days went by, but the joke didn’t stop. Every time you were near Minho, someone — whether it was Kitty, Q, or Florian — found a way to remind him of the supposed chemistry between you and Dae. Each comment made him seem more distant, more uneasy. And though you laughed it off with the others, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho’s behavior was changing.

One afternoon, while studying in the library, you received a text from Minho:

Minho: What time are you coming over to my room tonight? I’ve got everything ready for movie night.

You smiled at the message but then remembered you had promised to study with Dae for tomorrow’s exam. You knew Minho would understand, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your reply would be an issue.

You: Sorry, Minho, I can’t. I’m studying with Dae tonight.

The message remained unanswered for a while, and the wait made you nervous. Finally, his reply popped up on your screen:

Minho: Oh. Okay.

It didn’t sound okay at all. Your stomach churned as you read his words. You knew something was wrong, but you couldn’t quite figure out what.

The next day arrived, and as you expected, Minho was acting strange. When you approached him in the hallway, he greeted you with a smile that felt a bit forced, and his attitude was more distant than usual. You tried to joke with him to ease the tension, but he didn’t respond as he normally would.

“What’s going on?” you asked, noticing the mixture of discomfort and... jealousy on his face.

“Nothing,” he replied, pulling away slightly.

“Minho,” you insisted, gently grabbing his arm to stop him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed deeply, looking at you intently for a moment before finally asking the question that left you speechless.

“Do you like Dae?”

Those words hit you like a truck. The smile he usually wore had completely disappeared, and all you could see now was the insecurity that had been creeping in.

“What?” you asked, trying to process what he just said.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Everyone says it. That you and Dae have great chemistry. That you’re always together. And me... what am I in all this?”

Your heart pounded as you tried to understand what was going on in his head. It was the first time you saw Minho this vulnerable, this... insecure. He, who always seemed so confident and in control, now looked small before you.

“Minho, please,” you said, stepping closer to him and locking your eyes with his. “You’re the only guy I want. And yes, I’ve spent time with Dae, but that doesn’t mean anything. Don’t compare yourself to him.”

Minho avoided your gaze for a moment, but you gently held his hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You’re the only one for me,” you added with a soft sigh. “No one else. And if you ever doubt that, just ask me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Minho finally lifted his eyes to yours, and the vulnerability that had clouded them turned into something warmer.

“Really?” he asked, his voice a mix of relief and curiosity.

You nodded with a smile, your hand tenderly caressing his cheek.

“Really. I don’t want anyone else.”

Minho let out a relieved breath, and without another word, he pulled you close by the waist, holding you tightly against him. He kissed you with the intensity of someone who had just weathered an emotional storm, and the world around you faded away.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, almost embarrassed. “I let my insecurities get the best of me.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you whispered back, smiling against his lips. “We all have those moments. But what matters is that you trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Minho’s smile returned, his hand softly brushing your hair back. “I never will. You’re only mine.”

And in that moment, you knew everything was okay. Because despite the gang’s pranks and the moments of doubt, what mattered most was what you felt for each other.

Only his. Only yours.

[melodygatesauthor]

Intimacy - Part One - Fingering

Mr. Crawling x f!reader

Yeah, I just couldn't resist everyone. I love the scary ghost man. For all my usual readers, this is my personality now. I love you, give it a shot, I promise you'll love him too.

Not Beta Read

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, monster-fucking? (idk he's a ghost so I think it's considered monsterfucking), fingering, reader is not race coded, f!reader, premature ejaculation, Mr. Crawling is eager and pathetic and we love him for that.

“Me need,” he said, waking you out of your dead sleep.

You groaned, shifting against him where he still held you from behind. You’d fallen asleep like that, your back against his broad chest, curled up into his large frame. His long arms were wrapped around you, keeping you tightly pressed together.

“You not rest?” You asked.

He’d insisted on laying in bed with you. In fact, he insisted on being with you all the time. All it took was one bad run-in with Mr. Stitch to earn yourself a ghost who wouldn’t leave your side unless he was surgically removed. You certainly didn’t mind. Mr. Crawling had been nothing but kind to you since you’d arrived in that place, and he’d done everything he could to protect you…

Even when you mistook him for a threat and hit him with a crowbar.

“Not rest. Me need you. Much desire,” he rasped against your ear in a sleepy voice.

You felt your body burn in response.

“Y-you with me. Me with you,” you tried to say without making it too obvious how much you were shaking.

“Me need,” he said again, and this time he held you closer, if it were even possible, and you felt his hips rut against your backside.

That’s when you finally understood what he was trying to say.

He needed you. He desired you.

“Need,” he repeated again, a large hand gripping the waistband of your pants and trying to get them off. “Clothes many, want off.”

“C-Crawling, Crawling—”

He stopped and asked, “me stop? Not want?”

You could’ve lied and told him you didn’t want him to keep going. He would’ve ceased right there without question. You couldn’t help feeling bad for him though. It must’ve been ages since he’d been touched, and even longer since he’d been this intimate with anyone. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t feeling something stirring in your own body.

“No, not stop. Can go,” you urged, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

His expression shifted from one of concern to a wide grin.

“Grateful,” he muttered. “You help? Clothes can disappear.”

You reached down and slipped your pants off, glad to be beneath the covers and away from the chill you would’ve suffered without them. Mr. Crawling’s hand touched the skin on your thigh, and despite how frigid that hand might’ve felt, the contact made your body heat up.

Subconsciously, your legs parted to make way for his wandering fingers. You felt his index slip between your already dripping folds. He gasped, pulling his hand back as if he’d just been burned.

“Water is here?” He asked, “you wounded? You sick?”

You carefully took his hand and guided it back between your thighs.

“Not wounded, not sick. Body make water, much desire,” you tried to explain.

He seemed to get it, relaxing behind you again, holding you closer with his other arm. His breathing was getting heavier against your shoulder, the feeling of his cock becoming even harder to ignore. Mr. Crawling’s hips moved idly, grinding up against your rear as his fingers worked to discover more of your body.

His index and middle fingers worked together to explore between each crevice, his body trembling from what you suspected was an attempt to restrain his more primal urges. The idea of encouraging him to shove you down into the mattress right then and there was tempting, but you decided to let him do this at his own pace. Every time his fingers grazed your clit you choked out a small moan, careful not to disturb the other specters that might be lurking nearby.

“You sad?” He asked, hovering his fingers over your swollen bud.

“N-no, not sad,” you took his hand in yours once more, leading his fingers to rest against your clit. “Here finger touch, much good.”

You helped him, using your hand to guide him, showing him how to move his fingers around that sensitive sweet spot in ways that made your body shiver. His breath came out in short huffs against your ear as you taught him what you liked. The heat pooled in your core, cunt dripping as he continued working your clit.

“Crawling, y-yes,” you whispered, unable to stifle your moans any longer.

“Is good?”

“Is good,” you confirmed.

“Me feel good, my body touch your body,” he whined as he rocked faster against you, cock rubbing on your asscheek through the fabric of his kimono.

Suddenly he stopped moving, and his breathing became a series of tiny little panting moans. A warm, wet sensation coated your backside. In all honesty, you were surprised he hadn’t come sooner than that. If your suspicions were correct, he probably hadn’t been with someone like this in ages, if ever.

Then you heard his sad little sobs, which he cried against your shoulder. You cooed, reaching a hand back to touch his cheek over his silky, black locks.

“Why sad?” you asked softly.

He sniffled, “s-sorry, body do water your leg,” he cried and whimpered some more.

You chuckled, “is good. Do more, again,” you said, reaching down to make his hand move against your cunt once more. “Not stop.”

He continued to work his fingers on you, now reinvigorated by your words. His lips ghosted over your neck, and it wasn’t until you urged him to use his tongue on your skin that he found the courage to kiss you there. The ironic part of it all was that, despite him having no idea what he was doing, he was good at this.

His mouth hungrily claimed your skin over and over, and his fingers swirled around your swollen clit masterfully. You could feel him again already, cock hard and aching against your rear.

‘So eager,’ you thought fondly.

“Finger can go inside,” you breathed, looking at him over your shoulder again.

His mouth hung open, breathing deep before curling into a grin. He wasted no time slipping a long, thick finger deep inside your fluttering hole. He whimpered in unison with you before he pressed his lips against your cheek.

“Can kiss,” you said just above a whisper, unsure if he understood you or not.

Whether he actually knew what you said, or he was acting purely on instinct, his mouth covered yours sloppily. You let him find his own way, tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you, all the while his middle finger was pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. He brought a second finger in to meet the first, digits working in time with his hips as he grinded feverishly against you once more.

“Yes, like this. This good. So f-fucking good…” you groaned, forgetting his language as your mind started to go blank.

“Is much good? You happy?” He asked, but started kissing you again before you could even respond.

You hummed in approval, reaching up to cup his cheek and deepen the kiss, hoping your actions helped him understand that this was absolutely good. His fingers curled, you were certain it was by some deep rooted instinct, and within seconds your body was a trembling mess. He started to worry, moving to take his fingers out of you, but you wordlessly grabbed his hand and held it in place.

“Yes, good! Good!” You cried, toes curling as your climax came crashing down over you.

Your eyes shot open, cunt clenching and releasing around Mr. Crawling’s fingers with every wave of your orgasm. You moaned and whined into his mouth, continuing to kiss him through your pleasure until you could hardly breathe.

When you collapsed onto the pillow, Mr. Crawling didn’t know what to do for a moment. You turned onto your back, looking up at him and smiling.

“You wounded?” He asked, concern etched over every inch of his face.

You chuckled and cupped his cheek, “feel good.”

He sighed in relief, laying down next to you and tangling his legs with yours. You watched as he brought his fingers, now coated in your slick arousal, up to his face. The heat rose to your cheeks as you watched him inspect the way it webbed between his fingers, and then carefully, he darted his tongue out to taste it.

His mouth fell open and he hastily sat up, sticking both fingers in his mouth excitedly. He giggled, looking over at you with that wide grin of his.

“Consume this, need again,” he said eagerly, clamoring to move the covers away from you and examine between your legs.

He had each hand gripping both of your calves, parting your legs wide. Whether he had eyes or not, you knew he was looking right at you, burning your image into his mind. His mouth hung open as he savored the sight of your glistening cunt.

“Touch tongue there?”

You nodded, breathless and unaware of just how insatiable Mr. Crawling would become now that he’d had his first taste of you.

To be continued…

Homicipher Masterlist (Coming Soon)

Masterlist

[pascalislove]

THE CALL: Han Jeong-Won x Fem!Reader~31

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

Warnings: female reader, pregnancy, age difference(unspecified), allusions to sex.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the luxurious hotel on the Italian coast.

The soft murmur of the sea accompanied the quiet moment as Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the elegant blue dress that fell just above her knees.

—How does it look on me? —She asked, turning to Jeong-Won, who was sitting on the bed with a serene expression. He looked her up and down, with a soft, warm smile.

—"You look beautiful," he responded without hesitation.

Y/N snorted in amusement, caressing her rounded belly.

—I think I would look even more beautiful if it weren't for this huge belly,—she joked, pouting exaggeratedly in front of the mirror.

Jeong-Won gave a low laugh, got out of bed and walked over to her. Without saying anything, he leaned down slightly and pretended to cover the baby's "ears" across Y/N's belly.

—"Don't talk like that," he said in a falsely indignant tone. —"You might get offended".

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, feeling how Jeong-Won's love for her was reflected even in those silly gestures.

—“It's okay, baby, don't mind mom,” Jeong-Won continued softly, gently caressing her belly. —"You are perfect".

—How dramatic you are,—Y/N mocked, although her gaze was full of tenderness.

— "I'm just being honest," he replied, putting his arms around her. —"But if you ask me, seeing you like this... with our family growing inside you, you've never looked more beautiful".

—If you keep saying things like that, I'm going to cry,—She warned with a shaky smile. —“Don't worry,” Jeong-Won whispered. —"I will be here for every tear, laugh and every moment that comes".

Y/N's heart raced, her chest rising and falling with a mix of emotions. For a moment, she thought about leaning into his warm embrace, but something in those words ignited something different in her, an unexpected spark she couldn't ignore.

—When you're this tender... you turn me on.

Before Jeong-Won could process her words, she gently pushed him onto the bed. His surprised laughter filled the air as his back hit the mattress.

—"Y/N...?"

—Don't talk,—she ordered playfully, climbing on top of him while her knees rested on either side of his body. —Just let me kiss you.

Without waiting for a response, her lips found his, deep and full of intent. Jeong-Won slid his hands around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss intensified. The heat between them became palpable, each caress filling the air with pent-up desire.

She smiled against his lips, enjoying the soft chaos she had caused.

The barriers quickly vanished, leaving them immersed in unrestricted love. Between sighs and breathy laughter, the outside world ceased to exist, being replaced by the intimacy of his surrender in that quiet room.

When it was all over, Y/N rested her forehead against Jeong-Won's, both breathing heavily.

—You should definitely be cute more often,—she murmured, still smiling.

—"If this is what happens, I'm going to take it seriously," he responded between laughs, holding her even closer to his body.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@anamiad00msday , @czarinera , @beebeechaos, @muchwita, @otakusimp1, @aori-aka03-blog, @preppyfella

THE CALL MASTERLIST

[karmaajr]

guys not the way I cried over my mum getting pissed at me outside our flat earlier and calling me a chav

for context, she called me on my phone a while back n started yelling at me n I was SO lost n turned out she only wanted me and my relative to go downstairs and pick up the shopping

n I tried to get our relative to wake up but bro js got pissy with me so I started stressing out on what I should tell my mum JUST when she calls me on my phone again

the convo follows:

-> *name* where the hell are you? it's freezing, I'm not getting all of this crap myself

-> my bad my bad, I'm uhm trying to find clothes to change into?? also *relatives name* won't wake up so what do I do??

-> I don't know! for God's sake do I have to do everything around here? just get down here

-> im still in my pjs tho...

-> I DONT CARE just come downstairs!! stop overcomplicating everything for once

-> okayokay sorry, I'll be down in a min after I find my coat

-> it's fine, it's pretty warm

i was kinda confused CUZ SHE LITERALLY SAID IT WAS FREEZING LIKE A MINUTE BEFORE??? but like, whatevs!! I still go find my coat though because like....... homie my pjs is a tank top and some thin pyjama trousers so HELL NO LMAOOO 😭😭😭

n I get downstairs after a bit n mum starts giving me stuff while giving me dirty looks and I'm like whatevs, she's probs in a bad mood cuz I was so slow n then MY DUMBASS makes the mistake of tucking my hair behind my ear 💀

which then reveals my collarbone more clearly and my mum absolutely LOSES HER SHIT OMG?!?! like girl starts screaming at me to zip up and starts saying how I look like a chav n like a....... ✨️paid adult fun timer in the making✨️ to make it PG for yall 😍😍

anyways like two minutes later our creepy neighbour pulls up and makes everything SM worse n even looks me up and down with a smirk while offering to "help us out while (my) baba is gone" as if im not literally younger than his eldest daughter 🙏🙏 (only by a year BUT STILL HOLY SHIT?? WE USED TO BE FRIENDS AS WELL SO IT MAKES IT SM WORSEE)

n ya the walk back upstairs adds to the shittiness of it all cuz mums talking shit about like, everybody in existence once again AND TALKING SMACK ABT OUR RELATIVE WHICH IS COMPLETELY FAIR CUZ OUR RELATIVE IS SO FUCKING ANNOYING OMG 💀💀💀🙏

anyways like half n hour ago I went to the living room (where my mum and sister are cuddling on the sofa watching some film that i wasnt told they were gna be watching so thats whatevs ig :D) after putting the kettle on boil and tried to check with my mum if she said what she actually said (cuz this happens a lot n she denies it afterwards which makes me feel like I'm going mad omg) and she starts laughing for like 2-3 minutes straight with me standing in the doorway on the verge of teats n my sister like "amma what word??? what word is she talking about????"

anyways I give up, pour myself some hot water after basically getting the confirmation and go to my mums room (2 bedroom flat and my relatives taken over my room atp) to cry LOL

then locked in a few minutes later BCUZ WHAT AM I CRYING OVER TF?!??!? STOP BEING A LIL BITCHHHHH????!? then I remember her absolute loathing for chavs and them lot, get upset again and blah blah now im listening to AMAZING ass covers on YouTube (on my ipad) n writing this so I can stop feeling upset omg 🙏🙏🙏 ANYWAYS BAI YALL WHO ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO READ THIS WHOLE THINGGG

[momolady]

Butch the Grim Reaper: All Parts

Nonbinary Reader x Male MonsterMute Reader - Slasher Aesthetic - Horror Movie Vibes - Time Travel Romance - Cowboy Music Word Count - 9716(TW contains horror elements, blood, a gun, and my attempts at comedy. Read with caution) This story is complete! No links, no tricks Also, this is extremely special to me. And I can’t imagine a better time to share it with all of you than Halloween! I have been so excited and chomping at the bit to share Butch with all of you, it’s one of my all time favorites.

One:

I can’t die, and that really sucks. It’s like having an itch you can’t scratch. It’s annoying beyond all reason. Sometimes it’s painful. Other times you can’t think. Being unable to die is like being bitten by a mosquito who grants wishes. Doesn’t matter how good it is, it’s still annoying.

I’m not sure when it started or why it’s even lasting. I’ve been shuffling along this mortal coil, hoping to find ways to end this torment. Perhaps at the end of the world it will only be the cockroaches, Cher, and me. But for now, it’s me and the rest of the world, rat race and all.

I remember that song my grandpa used to listen to. He’d play it over and over, annoying everyone in the house. Well, everyone except me. It was about a cowboy out herding cattle when he saw this band of riders who warned him about hell. I used to sit and listen to it with grandpa on loop, picturing the cowboy, the spectral riders, and what they meant by hell. I was fascinated by it, the imagery of the song and its lesson. I never truly understood what it meant. Even when my mom yelled at my dad in the hospital beyond grandpa’s bed how that ‘old moron is going to hell.’ 

While they fought, I hid under grandpa’s bed, humming that old song to comfort him and myself. It never occurred to me my parents didn’t know I was hiding, not until they got home anyways. So I was there as the nurses turned the light out and the world became this melodic quiet filled with breaths and beeping.

Outside, I heard the old church bells ring at midnight. I opened my eyes, staring out across the dimly lit room. I lifted my head, hearing something strange amongst the quiet drone of the hospital. It was footsteps, heavy ones. Along with them was a slight jingle.

Stomp! Clink.

Stomp! Clink

Stomp! Clink.

A red glow caught the corner of my eye. Standing in the doorway was a figure, tall, strong, and wearing black cowboy boots with spurs. 

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

The figure walked into the room, illuminating my grandpa’s hospital room with the red glow emanating from their body. 

“Let’s see here,” said a man’s deep voice. He picked up grandpa’s chart and hummed to himself. “Yup. Got the right room.” He set the chart down with a clatter. “Okay, hoss, time to get up and go.” 

I saw a hand come down to his side, reaching towards his boot. The hand was thin, and wide, but mainly, it was mainly bone.

I gasped and the figure stopped. The hand reached up, grabbing the side of the bed as he knelt down to peer down under the hospital bed. Red glow met my eyes and I found I could no longer breathe, let alone speak.

“Looky here,” a low southern drawl greeted me.

Everything locked up in my chest. My pulse, my breath. My voice. It all snuggled tight into a box.

“Funny. I ain’t ever been seen before. Must be special,” he said with a low chuckle. The bony hand reached out, patting the top of my head. “Nothing to worry about here, pardner. Just doing my job.”

I stared hard at those red glows.

He chuckled. “You know this fella?”

I nodded.

“Well, shame,” he murmured. His head tilted one way then the other. “Youngin’ ain’t ye? Well, double shame. Sorry about this, pardner. Cover your ears.” He stood back up, reaching for his boot again. From it he pulled a gun.

I didn’t cover my ears.

The red glow faded along with his footsteps.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I didn’t come out from under the bed even as the beeping from grandpa’s monitor went monotone. When the nurse came I stayed under the bed. I was eventually found and pulled out, but I wasn’t the same.

Death came and shot my grandpa. 

I stopped speaking after that, and frustrated as they were, my parents sent me away. It was a camp for troubled youth. And, well, it was supposed to be for kids more troubled than me, I just couldn’t talk. So, to say the very least, I was out of my element.

Right away it was well known I stood out amongst everyone else. I was smaller, weaker. And oh yeah! I couldn’t talk, so I couldn’t stand up for myself or rat people out, not exactly anyways.

The camp was right beside a huge lake, right out in the middle of the woods. It was supposed to be therapeutic for us kids. Us oh so troubled kids. All people did was isolate a bunch of people who needed help, not nature. I needed counseling, better parents, other kids here needed medication, a stern hand. But yeah, nature.

One day I was locked in an old storage shed. Which was one of the weaker punishments I had been given. At least I was left alone, at least I wasn’t being cornered in the showers. It was dark though, very dark. Beyond the shed I could hear voices and laughter. It was movie night, and I could smell the popcorn. I loved popcorn.

I sighed heavily and just accepted my fate. When one of the adults came to get something from the shed in the morning I’d be found. I sat there, staring down through the darkness. Then I heard it.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I stood back up, standing on a bucket to see outside. There was a red glow at the edge of the lake.

Stomp! Clink. 

It got closer, going towards the end of the dock. That’s when I saw him. The red glow hovered around him as he stared down into the lake. He wore a cowboy hat and a jacket with fringe flowing from the sleeves.

I stood on tiptoe, trying to see why he was standing at the edge of that dock. He looked up, almost towards me, but his red eyes went further. Voices approached from beside the shed.

“-just for a while.” A guy said.

“Ugh, it smells like shit down there,” a girl said.

It was two of my main aggressors, Alex and Alex. Yes, they both had the same name, and they had tag teamed together out of some weird narcissistic bond. Boy Alex was feeling up Girl Alex as they walked past me. His hand was on her butt while she was eating popcorn. They were heading towards the dock.

Death in his western regalia stepped aside, letting them go to the foot of the dock. Boy Alex was whispering to Girl Alex, and the next thing I saw was them taking off their clothes.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Girl Alex said. She went in to kiss Boy Alex, but he instead shoved her into the water. He stood there laughing, dick wagging as he stood over the dock.

Girl Alex never came up.

“Come on! You’re faking it!” He leaned over. “Alex?”

She jumped out of the water and grabbed him, pulling him by his hair into the water with a wild shriek. 

Death shot Boy Alex. He was pulled out of the lake in the morning. Girl Alex got out of the lake without him and never said a word. 

But before all that, I was still watching from the shed. Death came towards it, opening the shed and looking down at me as I approached.

“Got your back, pardner.” He winked at me and gave me finger guns.

I couldn’t say anything, so I nodded at him.

He extended his hand. “The name is Butch!” Tassels hung from the side of his glove as well. “Put ‘er there.”

I took Butch’s hand, shaking it, but he grabbed hold of me, squeezing me tight in a way that made me warm inside. Made me feel safe. 

“Like I said,” he whispered. “I’ve got your back.” There was a tone to his voice, a softness and care that was different from my grandpa. There was more to it, more that my young, fragile mind couldn’t understand. Butch gave my hand an extra squeeze, and then and there I knew I didn’t want him to go. But he had to, so I let go. 

He turned, walking away from me. Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

I tried to follow him, but as I headed towards the lake I saw Girl Alex rise up out of the water. She looked angry, beyond pissed. Our eyes locked and for a moment it was silent. She roared at me, screaming like a monster. So I ran.

Like I said, Boy Alex was pulled out of the lake in the morning and everyone was sent home.

I was instead sent away to a school for special needs kids. Where the kids were kind, but the adults were cruel. I wound up taking on a role of protector rather than victim. Well, both I suppose. I don’t want to get too much into my time at the school. The damage was done. Let’s move on.

I was sent back to that camp, a few years after it was shut down it was reopened. I guess enough parents complained they didn’t have a ‘good setting’ for their kids. I was older then, just a month away from being eighteen. 

I thought it would be different. 

But no. Girl Alex had been hired on as one of the counselors. From then on, my life became a nightmare.

Girl Alex was a success story. She turned her life around when Boy Alex was discovered dead in the lake. She was wonderful. She was beautiful. She was kind.

You know where this was going. The girl was a monster, plain and simple. Always was, always would be. But now she had power, she had authority. Which, for a monster, is not a good thing to have.

At first I thought she never remembered me. Surely she remembered the night at the lake, but maybe she didn’t realize I was the one she roared at. Things were calm and quiet, camp seemed to be okay.

But that was all a cover. Girl Alex was just waiting. It wasn’t until the Monday after camp started that things changed. Something was wrong, supplies were low, or a generator was busted, I can’t remember. So a group of counselors left to go into town. They’d be back the next day. Girl Alex was left in charge.

It was dubbed the Cruel Monday. By the time the other counselors returned, there was not much they could do. The camp was torched, bloodied, and no survivors were found. At least, not at first.

They found Girl Alex’s mask near the lake where I had ripped it off. She was somewhere at the bottom of the lake. I’m sure they found her when they drained it some years later.  Meanwhile, I was attached to her, held on by a rope with cement blocks. She’d got caught in her own trap.

“Geez, pardner. Look what they’ve gotten you into.” I shouldn’t have been able to hear that, but I did. I shouldn't have been alive at all, lord knows I wasn’t breathing. I was pulled from the lake and laid out on the shore opposite of the dock.

“This isn’t fair,” Butch whispered. He sat beside me, a piece of long, dried grass sticking out of his dark face where a mouth would be.

I was staring up at the sky, watching smoke flow into the abyss above me. There was no sky, it was a vortex, spiraling and pulling at me. Butch kept his hand upon my chest though and it kept me from rising. I saw people in the vortex, no, souls. I saw Girl Alex clawing at the edges, using large teeth to keep herself in place.

“You can’t go yet,” he voice called me back and I turned my head to look at him. He looked lost in thought, deeply troubled. “I don’t want you to go.”

I opened my mouth to try and say something, but a shout covered me. “Over here! I found someone!”

Butch’s hand slid lazily from my chest as someone picked me up. I reached for him, but his trouble remained painted in his glowing red eyes. I was carried away, taken to the hospital where I was treated. My inability to speak labeled me as an unreliable witness, an idiot as my dad called me, so the massacre of Cruel Monday was never solved. 

Being the lone survivor of an unsolved massacre at least gave me cushion when I turned eighteen. Without my parents I could agree to interviews, I could be studied, given money to appear at true crime conventions. I doubt my story would be believed, and part of me didn’t want Girl Alex to receive the credit, so I made up the Monday Ripper. 

Books. Movies. A TV show. Various and endless podcasts all told the story, or some facsimile to the Monday Ripper. And I was the final survivor.

Of course, my parents tried crawling back. My dad’s health was suffering and, oh no, they didn’t have the money. But guess who did? Me! For once, I had the upper hand.

“Monday Ripper,” my dad bemoaned from his bed. I had agreed to give my parents money, but under the stipulation I had control. Dad was in the same shitty nursing home they left grandma, the place that killed her. I didn’t allow mom to visit. He never let her visit me wherever they sent me anyways.

I looked at my dad, knowing exactly what he was going to say. I sat beside him some days, hoping to hear a thank you or something from him.

“You should have died that day. Things would have made sense then,” he said between wheezing breaths of oxygen.

Oh, how wonderful modern medicine was. Without that oxygen tank, why, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Next step would be a ventilator. 

“You were never supposed to exist-” he started coughing hard, and something on his monitor began to beep. One of the nurses should have been alerted and came, but they didn’t. Exactly why he was here.

I was about to lean over his bed when I heard footsteps approaching. 

Stomp! Clink.

Stomp! Clink.

Butch’s hand rested on my shoulder. Oh! I knew he would come. I stretched out my hand, placing it upon the valve of the oxygen tank. I looked my father in the eyes as Butch’s hand squeezed tighter upon my shoulder.

“Do it, pardner.” His voice was so deep in my ear. My skin tingled from my ear down to my spine. I took a shuddering breath and twisted the valve closed.

Death shot my father.

I turned, looking Butch in the eye. He tilted his hat to me. “Long time no see, pardner. I know you’ve been looking for me.”

I nodded, holding my breath in my chest.

“Don’t worry,” he winked at me. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for you.” He slipped his fingers under my chin, his thumb pressed to my lips. “You worry me, kiddo.”

What did he mean? He sounded like he was talking about something I should already know.

He sighed softly. “Can’t stay too long.” He motioned behind me. “These little meetings, they gotta be brief. Understand?”

No, I thought. I looked back into his eyes. Why was he always there when I needed him the most? After Grandpa died, he had appeared at all these strange times in my life. When I should have died, when I shouldn’t have existed.

“I’ll be back. Can’t say when, but, yeah,” Butch chuckled. “I’ll see you around, pardner.” He walked away, fading behind a large nurse who looked annoyed that my dad was dead.

“It’s so strange,” my mom said the day after his funeral. She was washing dishes, looking outside at the yard. “Not having him around.”

You can say it’s nice mom, I understand. 

She turned and looked back at me, her brow knitted together. “Is that why you chose that nursing home?”

I just looked at her and shrugged.

���I wish you could talk. It’s weird.” She went back to washing dishes. “Wonder if we’ll get any more free food today.”

I went back to my room to continue writing. Sequels to reboots simply don’t write themselves. I don’t know why I’m allowed to write movies, it feels wrong.

At one of the conventions, I had met a fan and we had got to talking. Layla would message me all the time, and I’ll admit, I got attached to hearing from her. Occasionally we would meet, share a hotel room and do stuff normal adults would do. 

“You can tell me,” she whispered under the sheets one night. “You know who did it right? The Monday Ripper?”

I laid there staring into Layla’s eyes. I would be speechless even if I could talk.

She rose up slightly, tenting the sheet with her head. “Tell me. I can keep a secret.”

She knew I didn’t talk, why was she asking me now?

Layla began to get on top of me and straddled me. Her hands slid up my chest towards my neck. “I’ve always admired you, you know? I wish I had the guts to do it sometimes.”

Did she think I was the Ripper?

Her hands clutched around my throat. “It would be so exciting. Tell me about it. Please. All of it.”

I grabbed her wrist and pushed her hands back.

Laughing, Layla tossed her head back. “Let’s do it together! A real reboot.” She leaned down as if to kiss me. I escaped her, leaving the confines of the sheet. Of course I attract the crazies. I’m used to that much. But she put on such a good front. 

I began getting dressed. Meanwhile, Layla got off the bed, the sheet still draped around her like she was a ghost. “I’m serious!” She replied.

I grabbed my things, leaving money for the cleaning staff on the TV. I then opened the door to leave.

“Don’t go!” Layla screamed.

I went. I even started to pick up speed.

I heard footsteps behind me, chasing me down the hall. But they weren’t the ones I longed to hear. 

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Rapid succession of tiny feet as Layla ran down the hall to get me. The naked girl was still clad like a ghost in a sheet. Her arm rose up under the sheet, extended a knife towards me. She got it into my shoulder.

I won’t get into the gory details, it’s boring for me to talk about. But I had managed to get to the stairwell, locking Layla out from getting to me again. I slumped against the door, breathing what I feared might be my last breath.

I thought about what my dad had said, how I should have never existed. Boy. Was I feeling that right now. All the times I could have died, probably should have died. It felt like the universe was out to get me for escaping it.

Stomp! Clink. Stomp! Clink.

He’s here! I forced myself to open my eyes, seeing Butch come up the stairs towards me, gun drawn.

Oh good, I thought. Finally.

I held my hand out towards him.

“Welp, this certainly is a mess.” He checked his gun, spinning the barrel before pointing his gun at me. “Won’t be much longer there.” He closed one eye to aim.

My breath shuddered as my hand extended to him. “Butch…” It was the first thing I had ever said since I was little.

Hesitating, Butch’s eyes widened as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“I love you!” Layla’s hysterical scream ripped through the stairwell.

Butch turned around, terrified by the sudden intrusion and shot Layla. She fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs until she reached a landing. Her naked body was splayed out against the white sheet, stained red by her blood and mine. Exactly what she wanted.

“Fucking hell!” Butch stared down the stairs at her. “Well, today is your lucky day. I only had the one bullet.” He looked back at me. I was still reaching for him, all my strength going towards that motion.

Kneeling down before me, Butch took hold of my hand. “It’s weird enough you can see me. But you said my name.”

Was this the same Butch I had seen so many times?

“I’ll stay here till you're found. It’s the least I can do.” He held my hand fast in his. “Strange. Have we met?”

I nodded weakly.

“I see then,” he breathed. “Well, pardner, I’m sorry I forgot your lovely face.”

This wasn’t the same Butch I had seen several times before. But he would be. That much I could feel. Don’t ask me to explain the feeling, I just knew.

Before I knew it, I was everywhere again. Not only had I survived the Monday Ripper, but now I survived a psycho fan. How lucky was I to survive so much. Someone must have wanted to keep me alive.

Yes. Someone did want to keep me alive.

Two:

It came as no surprise to me that my former camp was bought and opened up as a sort of resort, museum, reenactment theater. People would actually pay to stay the night there and act in a sort of mystery dinner party fashion. They didn’t do the story I survived, no they said that would be tasteless. They created a new story, but the Monday Ripper was still the killer. 

I was invited to join on the anniversary of the actual event. It felt crass to me, but I joined anyway. I had nothing better to do. So I signed books, posters, etc until the main event. Everyone seemed to be excited, meanwhile all I could do was look at that lake. I was surprised they filled it back in, it seemed like a bad idea. Kids died there, you know?

“What was it like?” A young man asked me as we went towards the dining hall. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t talk but uhm…I always figured you gave a watered down version of your experience. I mean, I always tell the soft version of my dad,” he laughed nervously.

I glanced at him and took a deep sigh. I signed to him. “My killer is gone. Don’t go easy on yours.” I walked away from him, diverting my path away from the dining hall and going to the lake.

I sat on the dock, looking down into the water as I remembered watching Boy Alex go under and never come back up. Girl Alex’s roar still haunted me, more than any of the things I had gone through.

Stomp! Clink.

I held my breath tight into my chest.

Stomp! Clink.

I turned back and looked up, seeing Butch standing there behind me. The lake turned red with his glow.

He sat down beside me, looking out over the lake. He pointed across the way to the shore where he had laid me. “That was when you should have died the first time,” he said gently. “But I stopped it.”

I looked at him, hoping he would turn his eyes to me. “Then, at the lake when that girl and boy tried to kill one another for fun, you would have been forgotten.” He pulled a knee up to his chest and held it. “Then I saw you in your grandfather’s room.”

I furrowed my brow at him. “That’s not the order things happened.”

He looked at me with a laugh. “Confused? Don’t be. Death exists everywhere and anywhere. Right now, I'm here with you, but I’m also on the other side of that lake with you as well, making sure you don’t die.”

I scooted closer to him, resting my head upon his shoulder.

“I won’t let you die, not yet anyways,” Butch whispered. “There are things I can’t tell you now. But just know pardner, I’m with you always. Everywhere and anywhere, all at once.”

It was then I decided that, no matter what, I was going to do what I could to see Butch again. If he really was everywhere and anywhere all at once, then he would be waiting on me to do something.

But if he’s here now, then there must be a reason he’s out here now.

I looked back towards the camp where everyone must be gathered in the dining hall now and waiting on me.

Butch sighs. “Yeah. I gotta get to work.” He stands up, smoothing out his jacket then holding up his gun. “I’m technically not supposed to be here. But eh, call me crazy.” His red eyes flick down to me as I gaze up at him. “Don’t worry,” he finger guns at me. “I’ll be back for you, pardner. You can bet your sweet ass on it.”

Whatever that meant.

He went back up the dock and vanished into shadows. I went back to looking at the lake, gazing down at the dark waters. 

Someone slipped and fell at the dinner party. They fell right onto one of the Monday Ripper props, and well, that’s all she wrote. The camp shut down, again, but probably not for long. Much like me, it can’t die. 

“Would you say you’re a bad luck charm?” The question came from a crowd, from a face I couldn’t see due to stage lights.

I was taken aback by the question. Not because it was offensive, oh no, I’ve heard far worse in my day. Moreso, I was impressed by it, and the fact it had taken someone so long to figure it out. Hell, even I hadn’t thought of that.

The question and answer segment was part of a documentary filmed about me. It was a sort of indie project created by fans of the Monday Massacre story who wanted to get the true inside scoop on me and what became of me after the massacre. 

I’ll admit the documentary was done extremely well, using clips and bits from my own personal collection, plus from those affected by the many tragedies that followed me. It should have been obvious from the body count in my wake that I was a ‘bad luck charm’.

“Interesting theory,” I signed and my interpreter spoke. “Shall we put it to the test?” Laughter rippled through the crowd, but in all honesty, I did want to test that theory. I wanted to see Butch again.

“I would say luck is an uncommon force surrounding our little survivor here,” the director of the documentary suddenly perked up.

I glanced his way, and noticed a slight smile on his lips. I could tell he had been holding this in for a while. 

“The luck they have is very good, but that same luck doesn’t rub off on others the same way. Almost like God is using all the luck in the area to keep them alive.” He laughed, the crowd laughed, but he had no idea how his answer was more than likely correct. By all accounts I should have died decades ago when I was young. I should have died several times by now. But Butch has defied the odds, has defied the powers that be, just for me.

That’s when I knew for certain I was not affected by death. I couldn’t die.

By this point I was used to being in the spotlight, so when the documentary became an underground hit I was ready for what was to come. Luckily, the makers of the film got their due. They deserved it, they worked hard and made me into some believable folk hero.

“I don’t know if there is much left for them to go through,” the director said in an interview I was watching. “A massacre, an attempted murder, geez, all they’ve been through. It’s amazing really. But I don’t think much else will happen to them at this point. They’ve learned to traverse this world in such a way, they won’t come across much more danger.”

I hope he’s wrong. Sweet guy, but he doesn’t know the complete story. I never told him that bit. Well, if he knew where I was now he’d think differently. I was chained up inside my old cabin at the camp.

Yes, that camp. 

Apparently, Girl Alex was never really dead. Who knew? I thought she’d been dredged up as a bloated mass from the bottom of the lake. But I was wrong. She’d suffered amnesia until she saw my documentary, now she’s back from the grave and who knows what else to seek her revenge on me. Cool I guess

Girl Alex tapped the TV screen with her knife. “Why didn’t you tell them? Huh?” She came towards me, looking like an unhinged soccer mom. Which she was now, apparently. Amnesia had been good for her. Too bad it didn’t last.

I had my hands chained up, what the hell did she expect me to say?

Lunging at me, Girl Alex snarled in my face. “About me?” She tilted her head to the side and giggled. “I was the Monday Ripper. You knew that! You saw me.” She placed the point of the knife against my temple. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

I’ve already mentioned she didn’t deserve the notoriety. Victims of serial killers get dick-all attention compared to the killers. That was the fate she deserved unlike her victims.

Her blonde bob swayed as she pulled away from me, turning off the television set by stabbing through it with the knife. She turned back to me, taking in deep, slow, purposeful breaths. 

Ah, I can tell she does yoga from that breathing.

She waves her hands down her face. “Deescalate, don’t hyperventilate.”

I bet she uses essential oils.

“Seeing your stupid, blank face again brought it all back you know.” She sounded perky, cheery even. “My daughter simply insisted we go watch that documentary. She loves the Monday Massacre films, you know?” She grinned at me. “Little does she know it’s Mommy! Little did I know,” she cackled.

Please, don’t monologue. Anything but the monologue. 

To my surprise she lunged at me, carving that knife into me like I was the crust on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Oh no, excuse me, one of her kids must have an allergy, so a sunflower seed butter and jelly sandwich. 

Glaring into my eyes, Girl Alex looked at me, prim, proper, completely fucking batshit crazy. Aside from some blood on her face, she looked like anyone. She pulled the knife back and stabbed it down into the bunkbed post. 

“Stay there,” she murmured. She gathered up my clothes. “I just have to burn these, then I’m gonna put you back into that lake where you belong.” Her voice was sing-songy.

She was creative once. Maybe years of motherhood have dulled her edges. Or it was the amnesia and brain damage, who knows? Well, I certainly never expected this, so good on her for surprising me again. 

The shock was wearing off and the pain from her slicing and dicing into me was setting in. I could barely catch a breath the way she had my arms chained up. It hurt, it hurt bad. Maybe she had a point. If the lake didn’t kill me the bacteria in it infecting these wounds would.

Why am I being sarcastic now? What’s the point? My dad must be laughing at me. His shoulders shaking, arm crossed against his ribs as the guttural, deep laugh rose up from the pits of hell.

Girl Alex stepped back into the room, wearing her Monday Ripper outfit. The mask was mass produced, the outfit was probably from Gap. “Do you know how many of these I bought?” She grasped hold of her face through the mask. “Never once realizing it was me? I couldn’t stomach watching the movies.” She strutted towards me. “All I knew was that my kids and husband loved them. Maybe that’s why they loved me so much.” She tried pulling the knife from the bedpost but was having a hell of a time.

“I’ve got a real nice rock to hold you down with. You won’t be escaping that lake again anytime soon.”

I really wish I knew how she did that in the first place.

Girl Alex gave up on pulling out the knife and squatted down before me. “Hope the follow up documentary does me justice.” She slapped me, hard, across the face then stood up to try and remove the knife she embedded in the wooden post.

Stomp! Clink.

Holy shit, no way.

Stomp! Clink.

“Moterfucker!” Girl Alex snarled as she tried to yank out the knife. “What the fuck is holding this piece of shit!”

Stomp! Clink.

I closed my eyes and relaxed. Butch was here.

The knife wiggled and Girl Alex laughed. She yanked again, dislodging it a bit more. She laughed in triumph as she pulled it out.

Bang!

She stumbled, tripped backwards. Waving her arms in the air she tried to hold herself up. Instead, she fell, the back of her head colliding with the corner of the dresser the television set sat upon. She fell onto the knife too for good measure.

I opened my eyes and watched as Butch stood there in the doorway. He was watching Girl Alex on the ground for a moment before he stepped into the room.

“We have got to stop meeting like this, pardner.” He swooped into the room, kneeling down before me. He made quick work of the rope and picked me up, laying me down on the bunk bed. He opened my clothes, looking underneath at Girl Alex’s art piece.

“Dammit pardner.” He touched my face, holding it gently. He leaned down, placing his lips upon mine. Oh, how lovely. I couldn’t have asked for a better, more romantic moment than this.

Of course I’m joking, I’m bleeding out.

Or maybe not. Much like Snow White, I suddenly felt better because of a kiss. I didn’t feel so weak, so gross. I looked down, seeing that Girl Alex’s pumpkin carving was gone. Just dried blood remained.

I sat up, smoothing my palm down my chest.

“Much better.” Butch took off his jacket and draped it around me. “Now, let's take care of this mess, if you don’t mind.” He motioned to Girl Alex dead on the floor.

We drug Girl Alex out to the lake, tying her to the rock she had intended for me. How funny it would end up this way all over again? I never expected this. I gazed up into the sky, seeing the moon was full and beautiful.

“Ready pardner?” Butch picked up the large rock.

I nodded.

Butch chucked the rock into the lake, aiming for the middle. The rock pulled yanking on Girl Alex’s legs and dragging her along the shore then…plop. Into the lake she went. 

“Lots of memories at this place, ain’t there pardner?” Butch chuckled.

I tackled him. I kissed him, hungry and wanting to devour him. He grasped onto the ground, gasping for a breath as I stole each one he had. His hands grabbed hold of me and I’m not sure which way he’s gonna move me. There was a softness to his face, that the shadows under his hat were a smooth, cool flesh. Shadow flesh. I straddled his hips, looking down at him as I pinned him to the ground.

Butch relaxed upon the ground, his hands going up my hips. “Gonna ride a cowboy, eh pardner?”

God he’s stupid, I love him. 

I leaned down to kiss him again as something poked into my thigh. Perfect. I kissed down his chest, his shadow flesh curled up along my face. I kissed further, opening his chaps up and laying aside his massive belt buckle. A dark shaft came up from inside, it curved and shadows licked off the tip. I took Butch into my mouth, sucking him generously as his moans and sighs came out rather loudly. I was surprised. But his low voice just made them sound all the better.

I had been waiting for this moment for so long, I wanted to do all I could to him.

The air was cold, clinging to my body as I pushed him down into the damp earth near the lake. His eyes were glowing bright, illuminating me, us, together in that place. The water lapped at the shore, followed by my deep breaths. Inside me I could imagine him as raging fire, reigniting the light inside of me for the first time in decades.

I let out my voice, a moan here, a grunt there. I had to still for a moment, breathing out thick clouds in the cold airå as I looked down at him.

Butch reached up, touching my face and brushing away my thick hair. “I remember the first time I saw you,” he muttered.

It took me aback at first.

“Sitting there in that stairwell, bloodied, cold-” his voice drifted and a tremor clutched his throat. “You said my name.”

It was his first time seeing me, but it had been one of many for me.

“I wanted to know you. Why you knew me.” His palm pressed to my cheek, sliding so I could kiss the center. The shadows were soft, the bones were as close to his soul as I could find.

A soft, low chuckle escaped his lips. “I pissed off a lot of people loving you, pardner.”

My eyes widened and I lifted up my head, staring down at him as the chill wrapped more around my naked body. Did he say what I think he said? My mind reeled, but it was also the calmest it had ever been.

“Butch,” my voice crackled.

A smile came through his eyes, and another gentle laugh rippled from his throat. “When death comes for you, it will be an army that I will have to fight off.”

Tears came to my eyes.

“But I’ll do it.” He closed one eye, raising his finger gun to me. “Bang, bang.”

That’s so stupid. I laid over, kissing him passionately and starting the motions again. I didn’t want him to leave me, ever. I wanted him inside me. This idiotic desperado with his finger guns and fringe, he’s mine, only mine. And he’s taking on the very nature of death for me, for some foolish reason.

“I can’t hold on much longer, pardner.” His voice was strained, not in a painful way, more like he was trying to desperately hold on. “You’re too good at this.”

I take pride in my work, but this is the greatest compliment I ever received. I wanted him undone and struggling. I wanted to suck the very breath from his bones. Well, if he breathed at all I mean. I cranked up my efforts to beyond ten, I was aching but pleased as I roughly shook him to his core. My core was awakening also. The flame from him was filling me, spreading to every nerve, every forgotten piece of myself.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He was holding onto me so tight, like he needed me to survive the storm I was bringing upon him. Good, he needed a life preserver apparently.

The only word I could think of was blossoming. I blossomed. All those years hiding under my dying grandfather’s bed hadn’t been for nothing.

Yippie-yi-o. Yippy-yi-yay.

I’m the ghost rider.

Butch didn’t move or speak for a long while. We laid there by the lake, staring up at the sky as my breath began to settle.

“Been many a moon since I felt that,” Butch whispered. He stretched out his arm, laying it over my belly. I place my hands over his. “Might be many more.”

Don’t say that! I turned my head to look at him, seeing his eyes focused upon me, a smile glistening inside. He didn’t want it to be long, but unfortunately, it would have to be.

Three:

With Girl Alex gone, my past was all but erased. No one from before existed anymore, and thus, it would seem like a fitting conclusion to the story. Wouldn’t it? But that is not how most stories end, not when they’re good like mine.

The camp was purchased, yet again, only this time it was bulldozed. Thank god. The lake was filled. An even bigger sign of relief. Now it was a prosperous little subdivision of tiny houses. Okay I guess. 

Any idea that it was the location of the Monday Massacre was heavily edited and a new storyline was pushed to see these adorable tiny houses. Nothing bad ever happened there, no sir, they promised. Everything was squeaky clean. No skeletons in any closet. Maybe in the ground. But certainly no one was to know that.

 I never even knew until a few years after its completion when I had the nerve to go and visit the lake. But to my surprise there was no lake at all. I simply stood at the spot where the lake had been. Now there were tiny houses covering it with pristine lawns, raised gardens, blah, blah, blah. 

I don’t know what I was feeling as I stood there. Disappointment? Relief? Anger? Really, I had no way to sort through them. It was strange. I was ready to lay things to rest, to put my past behind me and finally, fucking finally move forward. But I couldn’t? Or maybe it had been forced for me. Wow, I’ve gotten so good at processing shit that it’s like a computer error going off in my brain now.

“Looking for a home?” Someone with too big of a smile approached me.

I had a home, but what did she know? Idle chit chat was nothing I cared about, I simply knew how to do it. I nodded.

“Oh! My! Gosh! We have so much to sell! We’re building new lots everyday!” She motioned to the house before me, right where the dock would have been before. “This place is wonderful, isn’t it?”

Would’ve been better with a lake, I thought snidely to myself. But she probably would’ve popped a gasket had I said that. “Yeah it’s cute.”

“Oh! My! Gosh! Cute doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She grabbed me, triggering a response that made my blood run cold. “Let me show you!”

“So, I wasn’t aware of this property,” I muttered while trying fervidly to ignore her hand grabbing my arm. “What used to be here.”

“Oh! My! Gosh! It used to be this big property that belonged to this old man. Poor thing couldn’t maintain it anymore. It became so overgrown that even the poor little animals couldn’t live here!”

I don’t think this woman knows how nature works.

She dragged me inside. I was standing right where the dock would have ended. One more step and I would have been in the lake again. That dark, decayed water full of death. It had swallowed boy Alex and Girl Alex. Now, I was standing on top of them. If I went a little to the left, well, I was where Butch and I had been.

I didn’t hear what ‘Oh! My! Gosh!’ Was saying. I was too fascinated by where I was standing and what it meant. My heart was racing, my palms sweaty.

I bought the tiny house, not that I needed it or anything. More out of obligation and sense of respect to Girl Alex, Boy Alex, all those pulled under by the lake that was now filled in. I was the only one who knew of this resting place, of the history this land holds. Only I knew how much blood was spilled on this earth.

“We’re holding a Halloween decor competition,” a neighbor of the tiny house subdivision told me. “Best house wins a really awesome prize.” They seemed so excited about it. I found it hysterical. Halloween was on a Monday this year.

This place is either filled with old people trying to escape clutter, but still have too much money for their own good, as well as supposedly alt couples who prefer the color beige to educate their kids. I could be judgy, but I don’t get out much.

“Here! Look this over.” They handed me a flier that was decorated in so much halloween clipart I could feel design majors everywhere crying.

“You seem like a spooky one.” She said in a warbling tone to mimic a ghost.

I looked at her and her pristine beach waves, peasant dress, and turquoise jewelry. I’ve seen her a million times in different places.

I started signing to her and she looked scared for a moment.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-” Her eyes were wide, watching my hands as I pulled them back from signing.

“It’s a Halloween contest!” She said loudly while doing exaggerated movements with her arms to get the point across.

I scowled at her. I didn’t talk, I could hear her just fine. I tapped my ear.

She gasped again. “Oh! I’m sorry I-” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’M SO SORRY-”

I slammed the door in her face and turned my music way up. I watched her from between the shutters on the door. She looked mortified, then angry, then scoffed as another neighbor came by her. 

Holy shit Butch, where the hell are you when I need you the most?

I looked at the flier, after having kept it rather than shove it back at her. A Halloween contest to see who could have the best decor around their tiny house. Well, I knew some people in the production side of the movies. I bet I could show them a thing or two about spooky.

I never really cared for Halloween much. Then again, I never liked many holidays. I liked the food that came with them and that was about it. Halloween was always the time I was busiest anyways, what with meet and greets, conventions, book tours. People love my scary ass tales when it's October.

Anyways, friends I had made through the years came to my tiny house to give it the horror treatment. They were all too happy to show off their talents and turn my tiny house into a haunted house. In retrospect, I might have let them go a bit too far, as everyone else in the tiny subdivision were putting up things from Home Depot, Wal-mart, etc. There were a couple of giant skeletons, but it was all the work of dads with not much to do, or moms wanting to impress their kids, somehow. My house looked like it had risen up from the lake to come and torment all the other houses.

“That certainly is…unique!” A mom said to me.

“You can’t seriously think this is okay?” This old man had been yelling at me about anything and everything I did to my property. My flowers had been too colorful. My porch wasn’t painted enough. My doormat was too far from the door. So this fell on deaf ears.

A child who had been gawking with an open mouth and zero expression suddenly burst into absolute joyous squirming. “It’s so cool!” 

Ah good, the reactions I wanted. To be left alone and judged in silence.

“I know who you are.”

Not good! I bristled, turning cold from my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes. Please. I don’t want to be known. I barely want to be perceived.

The man who stood before me didn’t look like he fit into this tiny subdivision either. He was wearing cowboy boots and everything else was jeans. I just looked him up and down until his hands signed.

“Monday massacre.” He signed with a huge, smile on his overly tanned face.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He held up his hands. “Hold on there,” he chuckled. “I’m a fan!”

I’ve had fans. My eyes remain firmly narrowed. 

Oh wait. I can actually talk to this guy. “I’ve had fans before,” I signed to him.

He shrugged. “I know. And I ain’t intending to be one of them. I’m just surprised to see you back here, that’s all.”

“You know where we are?” I said with my hands.

He smirked. “How can I not? My family used to own this place after all. Well, before I was ever a twinkle in my dad’s balls.”

Crap, that was funny.

He chuckled. “We sold it to the people who turned it into a camp, you see.” He leaned against my stair railing. “I used to spend summers with my grandparents in that old house across the road.”

I knew that house. I used to think it was abandoned by how much stuff piled up around it over the years.

“I’ve been fixing the place up, hoping to sell it too,” he sighed. 

“How bad was it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Hoarders leave a challenge, I’ll give ya that. But for the time being, a tiny house ain’t so bad.” He nodded at me. “What about you?”

My eyes returned to their natural narrowed and judgemental state. “What about me?”

He places his hands upon his overly jeaned hips. “Why are ya here of all places again? Wouldn’t this be the exact place you’d wanna get away from?”

I shrugged at him and turned to go back inside.

“Name’s Billy.”

Of course it is, I think to myself as I close the door behind me.

Halloween came, and with it, the whole tiny subdivision gathered together to make sure the night was a success. They would be inviting people in to come trick or treat while also voting on the best decorations in the neighborhood.

I knew what I was about. I didn’t expect to win, I only decorated in order to get all the ‘community’ off my back. I also didn’t expect trick or treaters at my house of horrors but I still bought candy anyways. Maybe I am a bit of a dreamer, who knows?

I had been fooling around with Billy on and off through the month. His cowboyish nature did things to me, and like Butch said, who knows when we could be together again. Billy was a replacement, a toy hidden under the bed in a small box. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t need him, but he was fun to keep around for emergencies. 

“You ain’t in costume,” Billy said as he walked up my stairs. That overly tanned face of his was painted to look like a skeleton. Faker, I thought. You aren’t my cowboy.

I flicked my eyes to him. “Why would I be?” I took my bowl of candy and myself back inside. Billy followed behind me.

“I’m surprised to see you with candy.” He took a piece from the bowl and began to unwrap it.

I raised my hands again. “Do you really think you know me so well? Tell me what else you know about me?”

Billy popped the blue raspberry hard candy into his mouth, smudging the paint on his lips. “Why, I have the book on that,” he chuckled, inching closer towards me.

I swear to god, if this is another super fan situation, I’m going to-

“I don’t mean anything by it. I just, I dunno, I’m pretty reclusive my own self.” He leaned back, smiling out the window at the lights and line of kids coming up the road.

I watched him closely, he was relaxed.

He chuckled softly, gazing out into the distance. “You’ve been through enough to know your limits. I figured Halloween would be one of them.” He turned and smiled at me.

I shrugged. Maybe I was on high alert for nothing.

Billy leaned in, pressing a blue raspberry flavored kiss to my lips. Before I could respond, he gasped. I opened my eyes, seeing a look of terror on his face. He clutched his throat, gasping and choking for breath.

Oh shit! He was choking on blue raspberry! That was the least killer flavor! 

Billy looked at me, eyes bulging, face changing colors from bright red, to purple. Veins appeared and he was thrashing around, throwing himself against the walls.

I was surprised I couldn’t move. It was my grandfather’s hospital room all over again. I was frozen, trapped there unable to do anything. Billy came to me, weakly throwing himself at me and clawing down my body as he fell. Billy didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to come into my wake.

Stomp! Clink.

This isn’t fair.

Stomp! Clink.

Why do I suck so bad? Why can’t I move?

Stomp! Clink.

I looked up into Butch’s red, glowing eyes as tears appeared.

“So that was you,” Butch murmured as he stared back at me. “The kid under the bed.” He took his gun out and held it in his palm. “I know that look from anywhere, pardner.” He wiped away the black paint from my lips.

I looked down at Billy on the ground.

Bang.

The restoration on his grandparent’s place was going well. The smell of fresh paint and wood was everywhere. Or at least, it had been. I tucked myself away up in the attic. Apparently, no one knew Billy owned this place, so it had been left alone all this time.

“It’ll be soon,” Butch whispered to me.

I took in a deep breath and sighed, standing up to join him at the window. I placed my hand over his, gazing into the red glow. He squeezed my hand tight.

“Death is pretty easy though,” he murmured to me. He turned to face me, taking both my hands in his. The glow from the window reminded me of an altar in a church. The stained glass illuminated over a couple as they made their vows.

“Life is hard, but it’s what makes death worthwhile,” he told me in a smooth, even voice. He clutched my hands tight, raising them up to kiss my knuckles. “But this death, oh, what a show it will be.”

“Butch,” I whispered.

He nodded, giving me a big grin. “This has been a wonderful journey, pardner. I followed you in this life, now, I’m going to follow you into the next.” He placed his gun into my palm.

“Guns ablazing,” he whispered.

I opened my mouth, my tongue unsure, my throat unused, but I sang like my grandfather used to sing to me. “'Cause they've got to ride forever, On that range up in the sky. On horses snorting fire. As they ride on, hear their cry.”

Butch chuckled, leaning in and kissing me. “Are those your final words?”

I shook my head. Despite my silence I had so much to say. You wouldn’t be able to keep me quiet if you tried.

I heard voices fill the house, door opened loudly, footsteps began rattling about as if they were on the walls and ceiling. The horde of death sent for me was finally coming. Butch had told me all about them. Every time I almost died, it was death coming for me. But everytime, another death stopped them. All those grim reapers sent after me, were now fighting to be the first to take me. I was a game, a prize. All these years alive had made me the bane of the underworld. I was a royal in a palace, with Butch as the dragon guarding me.

I couldn’t die, but that was because Butch wasn’t ready to let me go. I don’t blame him. Had our places been switched, I would have done the same thing. Well, maybe later on we will switch. Maybe we’ll stand side by side and not behind separate lines. Kids growing up. Playing cowboys. Riding on forever in that range up in the sky.

I stepped forward, aiming one of Butch’s gun to the door.

Stomp! Clink.

Butch aimed as well.

The door swelled and bucked as death came for me. They reached in with long, bony hands, screaming my name over and over again. I pulled back on the trigger, holding in my breath and steeling myself.

Click. Click.

Bang.

The sky above the lake was beautiful. There were so many stars, so much light in what should be endless darkness. I laid there, feeling the moist earth against my bare back. I rose up, seeing figures standing on the other side of the lake with all their backs turned towards me. I stood, watching them without saying a word.

I took a deep sigh and walked to the dock, going to the edge and looking down at the black depths. I saw stars there too, lighting up a vast, endless abyss that should have taken all light and killed it. 

There’s always hope, I told myself. There’s always Butch.

I stepped off the dock and sank into the deep waters. I fell down, going further and further until there were only stars above me again. A red glow lit up the area around me. 

“It’s okay, pardner.”

I smiled, closing my eyes and breathing in the lake. 

I smelled a campfire as I stirred. I opened my eyes to the red glow of it, and a vast horizon of endless stars before me. I sat up, looking into the fire. I guess it didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing. The death hoard tucked me somewhere. I reached towards the fire, seeing my hands were pale and my nails pitch black. I stared for a moment, seeing my bones begin to rise from the smoke of my skin.

Stomp! Clink.

I turned and looked up at Butch who was carrying a jug in one hand.

“Good morning, pardner.” He tossed a gun down into the dusty earth before me. He tilted his hat back, revealing more of his red eyes to me. “Today is just the beginning.”

I smiled and rose to be with him.

[sugarbutterbailey]

loml - s. rogers

steve rogers x reader

summary: you thought he loved you, but it was so easy for him to leave you

warnings: angst !!! fluff if you squint maybe. no use of y/n

word count: 2k

a/n: my first song fic oooo & my first fic since 2021 be proud of me <3

~~~

you said i’m the love of your life

about a million times

“what?”

“i- i’m not coming back.”

the busy atmosphere of the coffee shop suddenly dissipated. it was as if someone turned on noise cancelling headphones. you had to set down your cup in fear of gripping it too hard. the last thing you needed was a shattered coffee cup.

you take a deep breath. “what do you mean you’re not coming back?”

“the life i shared with you was beautiful. what i did to help the world was honorable. but i can’t help but think of the life i could’ve had.” he spoke, trying to hold your hand.

“you told me i was the love of your life.”

he stayed silent. He had so much time to think this through, yet his entire plan flew out the window. steve couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he stared just beyond your ear.

-

at dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger

and put it on the one people put wedding rings on

and that's the closest i’ve come to my heart exploding

you and steve sat at the table with his friends. they were great, really. you’d been in some relationships where your boyfriends friends straight up hated you and made it known. but with steve’s friends it was different.

natasha asked you questions about your life and sam genuinely seemed interested in what you had to say. you were in the middle of a conversation with bucky when you felt steve fidgeting with your rings. he took your ring off your middle finger and slipped it onto your ring finger and left it there. 

you looked up at him and smiled. you’d never felt your heart beat so fast, like it was about to explode. the thought of being with him forever was everything you’ve ever wanted.

bucky looked away from you for a moment, focusing on steve’s hands switching the ring. he moved his gaze to his best friend, silently asking if he was serious. steve just smiled and laughed, ignoring him.

-

you talked me under the table

talking rings and talking cradles

i wish i could un-recall

how we almost had it all

“so what’s next?” you asked, sitting up against the headboard in your shared bed.

steve walked out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth. he sighed, pulling on a shirt. he had just gotten home from talking with natasha about the sokovian accords.

“we’re on different sides.” he spoke bluntly.

it was clear he didn’t want to speak about the subject any further, so you didn’t push. instead you hum in response and set your book to the side.

you helped him as he slid under the covers next to you. he took your hand and laced his fingers in between yours, holding you close.

“sometimes i think about leaving. taking you with me somewhere no one can find us.” steve closed his eyes, squeezing your hand tightly. “we could settle down. get married and have kids. be something other than captain america.”

you wanted this. god you wished this could happen, but you knew deep down he would never leave captain america behind. you just wished he’d see that he could be both here.

“we’d have three kids, two daughters and a son.” you smiled just thinking of what could be. “we’d name one after your mom and our son’s middle name would be james.”

steve chuckled as he wrapped his other arm around you. “we could get a dog and name him something basic like spot or teddy.”

“sounds perfect.” you laid your head on his shoulder for comfort. “i would support you no matter what. i’d go anywhere with you.”

he kissed the top of your head. “i’ll never leave you.”

you both stayed like this for a while. perfectly content laying in each other's arms. with the state of the avengers crumbling you knew you’d have less and less of these moments so you had to take advantage of every last one.

i’m combing through the braids of lies

“i’ll never leave”

“nevermind”

-

and who’s gonna hold you like me?

who’s gonna know you?

“tell me again.” you demanded, your voice terrifyingly calm.

“after the funeral, i’m going back to put the stones in their correct timelines. but i’m going back to peggy. i’m sorry.” steve leaned back in his chair, he could feel a migraine coming on.

you blinked. there’s no fucking way that who’s was actually happening, you thought. after years spent being together how could he just leave you? like you meant absolutely nothing to him.

“when did you decide to do this?” you questioned.

“when we went back to 2012. i realized it would work.” he started to explain.

you instinctively run a hand through your hair. it was a coping mechanism. you mindlessly braid and tangle your hair as you get lost in your thoughts.

steve kept talking but you couldn’t hear him. your mind was too full. your senses went into overdrive. all you could focus on was the sound of the espresso machine whirring in the background. the clinking of the cups. the chattering of other coffee shop patrons. the brightness of the sun shining into the building. 

how could the sun be shining right now? you wished it was raining to reflect on how you were feeling. you were having the worst conversation of your life and all you could think about was how happy it looked outside.

you snapped back into the conversation when you heard him say something about how your relationship had stalled during the blip.

you interrupted him. “absolutely not. you pushed me away but i still stayed. i told you i would stay by your side no matter what and i did. do not blame this on me.”

“i’m sorry i have to go.” steve repeated.

you watched as the man stood up from the table and left you there to your thoughts. it felt like everyone was staring at you, like they heard your conversation. but the reality was, no one paid any mind to you, instead they were all catching up with their loved ones as yours left you in the coffee shop.

-

but you’re in self-sabotage mode

throwing spikes down on the road 

the funeral was beautiful but unsettling. normally you’d be standing next to steve but instead opted to stand with peter parker and his aunt. you hadn’t seen him since he left you and you hadn’t told anyone what happened. you felt like at any moment you might breakdown.

thankfully you were at a funeral and could blame your emotions on tony, although that seems disrespectful. after the service, you briskly walked to your car, trying to avoid any confrontation. obviously, knowing your friends, sam had cornered you before you could even get past the house.

“what’s gotten into you? why’d you stand with parker?” your best friend asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“sam, i need to go. i’ll talk to you later.” you whispered, trying to push past him.

there’s no way you thought that would work, but still you tried. 

“what happened?” he lowered his voice.

you knew you were going to have to tell him at some point, or you were sure steve would’ve told him his plan.

“he didn’t tell you? you’re his best friend and he didn’t tell you he was leaving all of us to go back to her?” 

sam looked at you, shocked. no, steve didn’t tell him. you glanced over your shoulder at steve talking to 

bucky, the former had a stern expression on his face.

“looks like he’s telling bucky right now.” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

sam wrapped his arms around you tightly. he whispered his thoughts to you as you tried not to cry. 

“it’s all my fault. i introduced you to him, he never would’ve hurt you.” he apologized, but you stopped him.

you broke away from the hug and looked him in the eyes. “no, you don’t get to blame yourself. no one could’ve seen this coming. you’re my best friend, and that will never change.”

he let out a sigh of relief. you notice his eyes flicker from you to the two men far behind you. you turn to look behind you to see steve gesturing for sam to follow him.

“go, it’s fine. i’m going home.” you said, smoothing your outfit down.

“come with me. i know you don’t want to talk to him, so you don’t have to. just come with to let me say goodbye and then we can stay in and order take out, ok?” sam asked, well pleaded.

sam held out his hand for you to take. you hesitantly took it, the two of you walking toward bucky and steve. you stopped walking when you neared the group.

“i’m gonna wait here, ok? just let me know when you’re done.” you smiled weakly, taking a seat on a bench facing the water.

you tried to ignore what was happening behind you, but it was difficult. you wondered what was going on inside his head right now. was he thinking about the way he was going to find her? his future life with her?

“how long is this gonna take?” you heard sam ask bruce.

“for him, as long as he needs. for us, about five seconds.” bruce responded.

you held your breath. this was actually happening. he was leaving. some small part of you agreed to staying because you thought he wouldn’t do it. there’s no way. 

“going quantum. in three, two, one.” you heard banner countdown.

and just like that, he was gone.

-

oh, what a valiant roar

what a bland goodbye

you closed your eyes and pulled your knees to your chest. you knew if you opened your eyes you’d start to cry. but you refuse to cry over someone who left you to start over with someone else.

you sniffled softly, listening to the sound of the lake. you loved the way the water smelled. the wind blowing swiftly through your hair. 

“it’s beautiful out here isn’t it.” you heard a voice say.

you opened your eyes suddenly and looked around, spotting someone who wasn’t there before.

“steve?” you questioned.

this wasn’t the same man you once loved. this was a man who’d lived a full life. he was older, his hair white, his eyes content.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left.”

he turned his body towards you. “i did. i lived a long life with peggy. i wanted to grow old with someone, and i have.”

you teared up again. it’s obvious he looked happy and you were torn on how to feel once more. 

“i’m sorry i couldn't love you enough.” he mumbled, running a hand over his face.

you stood up from the bench and turned your back to him. “i loved you. i cherished you. i risked my life time and time again just for you. you knew more about me than my best friend and i regret that. i wanted to get married and have children with you so i waited until you were ready. well now i know you were ready, you just didn’t want it all with me. i’m sorry steve, but i dont think i could ever forgive you.”

“i’m sorry.” he whispered, reaching for your hand.

you turned around to take one last look at him. you memorized every new detail about him. this was the closure you needed to try to forget him. 

finally, you walked away. you left sam with bucky, letting him say his final goodbyes to steve. your dress swayed in the wind as you briskly walk to sam’s car. you felt awful ignoring the calls from your friends but you knew you needed to be alone for just a minute to reflect.

you got into his car, shut the door, and finally let the tears flow.

and i’ll still see it until i die

you’re the loss of my life

[mya-valentine]

February 16th - Poison by Brent Faiyaz - Denki Kaminari x Reader

The air hung heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, mingling with the faint electric tang that always seemed to follow Denki Kaminari like a shadow. The city lights outside your apartment window painted your dimly lit room in soft hues of gold and blue. It was a night that felt alive, yet dangerous, like standing too close to a live wire.

Denki sat on the edge of your bed, his electric-yellow hair messy and falling into his eyes. His trademark grin was softer tonight, tinged with something darker, something unspoken. He leaned back on his palms, his golden eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing in the world. And maybe you were, to him.

You weren’t good for each other. You both knew it. The relationship was a tempest, a storm neither of you could weather, yet neither could walk away from. It wasn’t the sweetness of love that held you together; it was the intoxicating sting of the poison you shared.

Denki had a reputation. A flirt, a jokester, the life of the party—but you had seen the side of him no one else knew. The nights when he stumbled into your apartment, reeking of liquor and adrenaline, his body still buzzing faintly with residual electricity. The mornings when he barely made it out of bed, clutching his head and mumbling apologies for the chaos he inevitably dragged you into.

And yet, you always let him in.

Tonight was no different. He had texted you, his words slurred through the screen. "Hey, I’m coming over. Don’t lock me out, yeah?"

You had sighed, knowing what it meant. Knowing you should ignore him, knowing you wouldn’t.

Now he was here, his jacket discarded on your floor, his black tank top clinging to his lean frame. He looked like trouble, but you’d never been able to resist trouble when it came wrapped in a smirk like his.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Denki said, his voice low, almost unsure.

“I’m just thinking,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe.

“About me?” He tilted his head, his grin widening into something more familiar, more dangerous.

“Always,” you admitted, hating how easily the words came out.

Denki stood and crossed the room in a few lazy strides, his hands finding your waist as if they belonged there. “You know you drive me crazy, right?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the bite you intended.

He laughed, the sound low and intimate. “You love it. Don’t lie.”

You didn’t respond because you didn’t have to. He already knew the truth.

The kiss was inevitable, like a storm breaking after a day of heavy clouds. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of whiskey and something sweeter, something uniquely Denki. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

It was always like this with him. Intense. Consuming. Like he was trying to devour you whole, to burn you out like one of his circuits.

“Denki,” you gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave marks you’d have to cover later.

“Hm?” He murmured against your throat, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

“This—” You struggled to form a coherent thought as his hands slid lower. “This is going to ruin us.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a recklessness that matched the wild look in his eyes. “But I don’t care.”

Neither did you.

The hours melted away in a haze of tangled sheets and whispered confessions. Denki was rough around the edges, impulsive, and sometimes careless, but he loved with a fervor that was almost terrifying. He gave you everything he had, even if it wasn’t always enough.

In the quiet aftermath, as you lay tangled together, his head resting on your chest, you couldn’t help but trace the faint scars on his arm. They were reminders of the battles he fought every day—not just against villains but against himself.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you said softly, your fingers lingering on a particularly deep scar.

“Doing what?” His voice was muffled, his face buried against your skin.

“Running yourself into the ground. Trying to save everyone. You don’t always have to be the hero.”

Denki lifted his head, his golden eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he looked so vulnerable it hurt. “You think I’m a hero?”

“I think you’re my hero,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile was small but genuine, a rare glimpse of the boy beneath the bravado. “That’s enough for me.”

But even in moments like this, the poison lingered. It was in the way he clung to you like you were his lifeline, in the way you let him because you couldn’t imagine letting go. It was in the unspoken understanding that this love, as intoxicating as it was, would eventually destroy you both.

And yet, neither of you could stop. Because the poison wasn’t just in the relationship—it was in the way you loved each other. Wild. Reckless. All-consuming.

Denki pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if trying to memorize the feel of your skin. “I love you,” he said, the words heavy with meaning.

“I love you too,” you replied, knowing it wasn’t enough.

It never would be.

But for tonight, it was all you had.

The following morning, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden glow through the window. The room was still and quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of Denki’s breathing. He was still asleep, his head resting against your chest, his blonde hair tousled in a way that made him look younger, more innocent.

You traced the lines of his face with your fingertips, as if memorizing him, knowing that this feeling, this closeness, wouldn’t last. It never did. The silence between you both in these moments was the calm before the storm. You had long since learned that nothing stayed peaceful for long when it came to Denki Kaminari.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew. If he understood the way this relationship was slowly breaking you both down. Or if, like you, he was too wrapped up in the intensity of it all to stop.

Denki stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly. He squinted at the light streaming in, groaning softly before lifting his head to look at you. His golden eyes were heavy with sleep, but the moment they met yours, there was that familiar spark—the playful, mischievous energy that always flickered to life when he was awake.

“Morning, sunshine,” he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though the weight of everything hung in the air between you.

He pushed himself up on one arm, his other hand brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You’re thinking too much again,” he observed, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Whatever,” you shot back, though there was no bite in your words. You couldn’t muster the usual sarcasm. Not this time.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips warm and familiar, but this time, it felt different. The intensity was still there, but there was a hesitation, an awareness that lingered between you both.

Denki pulled away after a moment, his forehead resting against yours. “We’re a mess, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admitted softly, the words carrying a weight that had been building for a long time. “But we’re still here.”

“Always,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You knew what he meant. Despite the chaos, despite the destruction, you would always come back to each other. The poison had been in your veins for too long, and neither of you could escape it. It was a part of you now, an addiction you couldn’t shake.

But for now, all you could do was hold on. Hold on to this moment, to this brief pause in the storm.

And as the morning light grew brighter, you knew you’d never be able to let go.

Not completely.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 144 (Meeting Emit Relevart)

When Felix and Lilith arrived at Willow Creek Park after the wedding, they looked around for a sign of Emit Relevart. Though the park was dotted with patrons playing chess or laughing on the children's playground, no one in the park had blue hair.

Felix gazed across the magnolia-dotted landscape, smiling at a nearby roller skating rink. He'd been a ghost for the roller skating craze of the past and had never been on wheels. "Did you want to rent a pair and go for a spin?"

Lilith grinned. "I haven't been on roller skates since Ange and I were kids."

The lovers hit the wooden platform, wobbling until they got the hang of it. "There he is! By the chess tables!" Lilith shouted.

The bright, turquoise-coloured hair of Emit Relevart was visible as far away as the roller rink, and the couple quickly moved to change back into their shoes.

But once they were back on their feet, they moved cautiously. As they approached, Felix cleared his throat. "Mr. Relevart?"

"Mr. Relevart was - will be - my father. Please, call me Emit."

"I'm Felix Psyded, Esquire, and this is my partner, Miss Lilith Pleasant," he said proudly. "She has the top rated alternative podcast on Simplify."

"It's wild to meet a real time traveler!" Lilith gushed. "What year did you come from?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you that," Emit said.

"We just met another time traveler," said Felix, and Emit's interest piqued. "He tried to kidnap a young boy and take him a decade into the future. I don't suppose you've heard of a Ximena Bonilla or a Marco Peralta."

Emit glanced up from the chess table in confusion. "Never heard of 'em, but I'm from a bit farther into the future than ten years. If they came back in time to kidnap a kid, it wouldn't surprise me. Where I come from, a lot of sims use time travel for nefarious gains."

"What is it you're doing here in 2059?"

"Have you seen any strange items turn up lately?"

"Ash - that's the little boy we know - found an old rotary phone under the statue of Sophie the Snail in Henford-on-Bagley," Lilith recalled. Emit recorded a note onto his gloves.

"My wristboard deduces someone's stealing items from the past and dropping them through time. I don't know if it's a game of if they have something more dangerous to prove, but I've been chasing them through centuries. When I landed here in the middle of a senior's tai chi class, I scared a few of the elders. They called police and now my cover's blown. Too many people are watching me; I need help to recover the missing items and find the thief. My wristboard won't let me return to my time until my mission is complete."

"We want to help, and learn everything you know about time travel," said Lilith eagerly, and Felix nodded with her. "What do you need us to do?"

"I think there are clues to the whereabouts of the missing items in The Sims Archives. There's no wi-fi in this park, so can you look around for me? Let me know if you find anything interesting, but if you'll excuse me, I need to use the portholes."

Emit stood and they waved him off, still unsure whether to believe his story. Sure, he had weird names for things like the toilet, and his clothing came equipped with futuristic lights and gadgets, but that alone wasn't proof he was from the future. With a strange mix of caution and excitement running through their veins, they returned home.

Back in Britechester, Felix and Lilith headed to the Laurel Library - large enough to service two robust universities - including the one Felix founded before his death, the University of Britechester. But the library was open to anyone in town. Lilith loved exploring the shelves to learn niche subjects most people knew nothing about.

She pulled out her old laptop and downloaded the game she hadn't played since middle school, finding a time capsule on the lawn next to the in-game university library. It felt so meta, but a chill ran down her spine when Felix reported the librarian mentioned students burying a time capsule on the grounds of Laurel Library in 1999. "They were supposed to open it in 2024 but they forgot where it was buried, so it's still under there."

"I think we can find it," Lilith insisted. "I know it's still here. I can feel it."

Sure enough, a rock glistened on the commons outside the library, and Felix grabbed some tools to chisel it away. The mound hid the university's time capsule, just as Lilith suspected, but when they cracked it open, they were disappointed. Whatever treasure had been buried had been stolen, replaced with an I.O.U. and two unique milk cartons.

"We can't wait for them to return the items," Lilith moaned. "They could have taken them through time and gotten lost like Marco did with Ash."

"Let's take the note back to Emit and see what he has to say."

As Felix suspected, Emit's ideas involved the two of them learning how to time travel so they might help him retrieve the items. Felix would do anything to make Lilith happy, but time travel was dangerous. He didn't eat ambrosia to die in a twisted timeline, and he wanted to get some advice from their friends.

They arrived in Brindleton Bay less than a week after Heather and Conrad's wedding, finding a busy home and numerous happy pets in the yard. Conrad worked with Lavender to stack blocks and Heather continued to work away at her video game. Thinking back to how they bonded taking on the Ambrosia Society's challenge, Heather and Conrad encouraged them to move forward - with caution.

Felix was easily swayed by the thought of the experience bringing him closer to Lilith, and before they left, he gifted the milk cartons to Ash. One featured a terrifying pit beast, the other a pirate sheriff named Ginny, and Ash studied them carefully.

"If I had been missing for longer than I was, would I have ended up on a milk carton, too?"

Felix sighed. "You might have, once upon a time, but the important thing is you're safe now."

Ash nodded quietly, as though there was something else he wouldn't say, but any questions hanging in the air faded when Ash challenged Felix to a game of chess.

The attorney agreed, only to have the young genius trap his queen before the game was done. As it got late and the Gordons got their household ready for bed, Felix and Lilith headed to Deadgrass Isle to visit the historical museum before heading home. "If there are stolen historical items floating through time, maybe the curators have seen someone who might be the thief," Lilith reasoned.

Inside the museum, they wandered the exhibits but nothing looked out of place. In the upstairs hall hung a portrait with burnt edges along the gilded frame, and Felix stopped to admire it. "Is that Miss Mimsy Alcorn?"

Lilith read the plaque beneath the painting. "Lady Mimsy Alcorn Shallot in the Garden," she read, and Felix' face fell.

"Oh dear," he sighed. "This was painted after her wedding to that man who set their home on fire and killed them both."

Lilith frowned. "I thought the Von Haunt Estate fire was an accident."

Felix shook his head. "Her younger sister never thought so. Maude was convinced Lord Bernard Shallot was jealous enough to ensure his wife would be with no one but him for all eternity."

Lilith frowned, shaking her head in disgust at the murderous lord before excusing herself to use the restrooms. Old memories flooded into Felix's mind as he looked at the painting - he never knew Lady Mimsy before her death, but her younger sister spoke of her so often, it felt like a false memory that the two had never met.

He heard a sound and looked away quickly. Seeing nothing, he turned back to the painting, but his jaw dropped. What was a portrait of Lady Mimsy standing alone in her garden was now a romantic pose - the ghostly arms of Lord Bernard Shallot wrapped lovingly around his wife for all eternity.

"Lil!" called Felix through the bathroom door, his heart pumping through his skin. "The painting just moved! What do you say we head back to Britechester before anyone tries to jump out?" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Made up lore alert! Felix's bethrothed in his original timeline was a younger sister of Lady Mimsy Alcorn Shallot, Maude Alcorn. This painting came with the Reaper Rewards event and wasn't Heather and Conrad's vibe, much too big for their house! But when I read about what the painting does if you view it a few times, I had to have it and hung it in the local museum. In my headcanon, Heather and Conrad got the painting as a reward from the Ambrosia Society and donated it.

I worked out the connection to Mimsy through Maude in Felix' backstory when Felix entered the save, and when the week 2 task for Blast From the Past sent them to a museum, it was finally the perfect time to play with the haunted painting! (But they had to study a different item to get the quest points since this can't be studied for historical insights.)

In a nutshell, Maude was Mimsy's sister but quite a bit younger. When Mimsy and Bernard died in 1898, Maude was nine, Mimsy was 20, so Felix never met her, but Maude was the source of all Felix knows about her and Bernard. I don't know how deep I'll go on Mimsy/Bernard lore since they're not directly connected to the main household, I really just wanted to play with the painting, and it will make Felix think about some things!

[onlyymir]

sweets and lust.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Ph! Katsuki x reader

---------------------𝜗𝜚---------------------

sitting in one place for hours doing works and hero assignment made Katsuki's day even worse after the new villain incident happened in the city, constantly reminding himself how many hours left for him to go back home to finally see your gentle happy face after seeing the love of her life walking down the door hall, but works keep him staying in the agency.

His phone buzzed right inside of his left pocket, your name popped up giving him a text saying 'how is work? ^^' - ' I have a surprise for you bae! ' katsuki smiles like a teenage boy again just because of one, two texts from you.

'I'll be back soon, a lot of shit needs to get done. ' after texting he shoved his phone right back into his pocket, giving a quick glance to his watch ticking the time to see when his shift will be over.

"Fuck, finally this shit over" katsuki huffed out while preparing to go back home, walking down the hall exiting the glass door, getting in the porsche, 30 minutes later he is finally in front of the apartments door. Katsuki opened the door catching smells of cinnamon and cake? That's what he thinks before calling out " I'm home, a lot of traffic lights back there" unfortunately he hears no sound or sights of you appearing to greet him like usual.

Katsuki searches for you until he sees the door of your shared bedroom enlighten a light peeking through. Gasps and whining can be heard, of course the smart guy he is, he decided to take a peeks revealing you in one of his night wear outs too big and baggy for you, half naked fingering your cunts while making cute sounds, it immediately hit his dick like a lightning shock getting all hard.

"Hey there. " He said barging into the room like an FBI investigating, giving you a jump scare, you quickly shouted at him "What the fuck katsuki! " a deep bright red crossing all over your face seeing your boyfriend barged in without knocking. "Couldn't you knock?! That was so embarrassing... " You couldn't properly say, the last part comes out soft and quiet but loud enough for katsuki to hear since he is a pro hero after all.

Katsuki laughed while the frown on your face grew wider, "baby, is this my surprise you were talking about?"

"What, no!" You paused for a moment " I was planning to surprise you with the cinnamon roll I made for you...since you were working so hard lately..." after you explained the situation katsuki still seems confused and reflects his muscles to touch your face cupping it like a duck lookalike.

"Then why are you touching yourself? Did u miss me?" honestly it's also been so long since the last time the two of you had sex.

"Well yeah...uhh do you want to eat the cinnamon roll first then we talk?" you're trying to ignore the awkwardness suddenly filling the room while making up some questions hopefully he went with it, that's what you thought until katsuki pulled your legs apart spreading everything to his eyes only his eyes "Nah sweetie, don't try to run away from me after this shit" Katsuki was more aggressive but you liked it when his veins on the neck popped out, the way his dick was leaking and throbbing under the pants he was wearing.

"Katsuki please..give it to me"

"What is it bae? you gotta fucking properly ask what you want."

"Please I want your cock! Fill me up.." You quickly covered your face with your left hand after saying such an embarrassing statement but you couldn't care less, you needed him so bad and now he is in front of you.

"Atta' girl"

----------------------𝜗𝜚-----------------------

[seellove]

Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader

Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Placing a bet, my odds are You and Me Zero // (3.6k words) // 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 5 | << Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending

There is a chill in the morning air as you wait outside. You are groggy from sleeping poorly last night and as a result of waking up obscenely early, anxious and nervous for your first mission. Your bag lays on the ground beside you, probably overpacked, but you didn’t know what to expect so better to have something and not need it. 

You pull your beanie down lower to cover your ears from the breeze. The car better be warm, you aren’t yet used to these chilly mornings. 

“Be careful on your mission Suki,” Yorozus voice cuts through the silence. “Let me know when you get back, I’ll have a welcome home present you don’t want to miss.” 

Suki, you snicker to yourself, you’ll have to remember that next time he’s an asshole. 

“Oh yeah, what’s that gonna be?” a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“If you’re lucky I might send you a sneak peek later,” she responds in a sultry tone. 

Gross can they not do this elsewhere?. 

“Oh she’s going with you?” Yorozus voice grates on your ears. Goddammit you don’t want to deal with this right now. 

“Yep it’s a support training mission, I have to make sure she doesn’t kill herself, isn’t that right?” he pulls your beanie down over your eyes. 

You rip the beanie off in frustration, revealing Sukuna standing in front of you wearing his uniform pants and a red and black jacket. Yorozu stands next to him, her arms crossed scowling at you. 

“I might have to kill myself to save myself from your incessant attitude,” you clap back. You look at Yorozu. “He’s all yours girl, I don’t want anything to do with this,” you gesture at Sukuna. You wouldn’t mind if what happened last night were to happen again, but you had no interest in fighting over a man like him. 

He fakes a frown, “wow harsh. I underestimated how little you think of me.” You don’t miss the side eyed smirk as he turns his head slightly towards you so Yorozu can’t see. 

To your relief a black car pulls up, saving you from this situation. You take off towards the car, not bothering to acknowledge whether Sukuna follows or not. After tossing your bag into the trunk, you circle back to the rear doors and settle yourself in the backseat. The driver greets you but other than that stays quiet. Not long after you buckle up, Sukuna joins you. You ignore him at first, not planning to say anything until he speaks.

“Did you mean what you said back there?” he caves first. 

“Mean what?” 

“You want nothing to do with this.”

You briefly pause before speaking, staring out the window to avoid looking at him, “I mean, kind of. I’m just here to go to school so I can move on with my life. I didn’t ask to be partnered up with the class fuckboy and be the target of his fangirls’ jealousy.”

The sounds of the car on the highway fills the space between the two of you. Tension weighs heavy in the air. You don’t hate Sukuna, in fact you value the time together and the unexpected friendship that has developed. It might not be the deepest bond, but at the end of the day there is mutual respect and the company is enjoyable. You are also grateful for everything he has taught you, even though it started out on not the best of terms. Plus, it was nice having someone actually appreciate your intelligence instead of calling you a nerd or a loser. 

You turn to look at him, surprised to see him already eying you. His eyes look a little softer than normal, while his mouth betrays no hints as to what he is thinking. 

“It’s exhausting trying to be friends with you sometimes Sukuna. Your love life is of no concern to me, but when people start berating me and being nasty, it’s hard to justify wanting to continue the friendship. Hell, I don't even know if you want to be friends with me. You are so emotionless and vapid at times, it's impossible to tell if you actually enjoy spending time together.”

“I absolutely do want to be friends with you,” he quickly responds, his eyes widening with a rare sign of emotion. “Sorry, I’m not good at conveying this with words, but your presence, I enjoy it, I look forward to it.”

His vulnerability catches you by surprise, awkward silence pooling between you. You decide to lighten the mode a bit, to offset the weird moment. “So he does have a heart after all,” you force a giggle.

He snorts in response, “it keeps me alive.”

“Alright Suki, now tell me about this mission.” 

“Never call me that,” he huffs in annoyance, giving you a side eyed glare.

“Oh right, that's your special nickname only your girl can call you,” you continue to egg him on, feeling him seething beside you.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna leave you in there with those curses and let you figure it out. Besides, she isn’t worth my time to disagree with, I don’t care enough to have a lengthy conversation,” Sukuna retorts.

“Now, about the mission.”

He explains the info that was contained in the original posting online. He must read the confusion on your face at the lack of information because he continues talking, “sometimes you don’t really know what the mission will be like until you are there to scope it out. The intel we receive is usually pretty high level without a ton of detail.” 

Your nervous demeanor must be apparent because he places his hand on your arm, “I won’t send you in there alone, I’ll scope it out first and I’ll be nearby the whole time. You have no idea how fast and powerful I am, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Your stomach feels less turbulent with his reassurances. 

“Are they scary? The curses?”

“If you aren’t used to them, I suppose they could be. Just to warn you, they are pretty grotesque and deformed looking. These ones we will be dealing with are pretty stupid though. Higher level ones are more scary because they can reason and act like humans.” 

“What kinds of missions do you usually go on?” you question. 

“Hmm, mine are usually a little tougher and can last multiple days. Sometimes I need to gather my own intel before charging in. There’s usually a lot of lower grade curses in addition to powerful ones. Curses attract curses after all.”

A sadistic grin creeps across his face as he continues, “I fuck then up though, I enjoy tearing them apart, trying new techniques on them, I’m known for leaving my missions a bloody mess when it’s all said and done.” 

“Why does that not surprise me? Can you show me your technique on one when we get there?” 

He sits up straighter, puffing out his chest ever so slightly, “yeah I will, just for you.”

You can’t help but be a little excited to see a real sorcerer in action. Plus, you need to see if he’s actually as strong as he claims to be. 

The rest of the ride goes without incident, chatting and banter between you two passing the time. You look up and notice the car slowing to turn into an old neighborhood, stopping a few houses away from what is presumably the abandoned one. It was a massive brick building with beautiful white columns, an unkempt garden framing the entrance.

You stare up at it, a wave of nausea springs up as fear begins to wash over you. You were scared of curses, only remembering stories of missions gone wrong and the gruesome things they will do to people. Shoko tried to describe them one time as did Sukuna earlier, but you were still nervous about everything. 

The driver activates the barrier and gives you both the rendezvous location. 

“Follow me,” Sukuna grunts shortly, leading the way towards the mansion. “I’ll go scope it out first, then come back for you.”

He bounds inside with impressive speed, kicking down the front door unceremoniously. A chill drips down your spine making you shiver in anticipation. The presence of curses. Swallowing hard, you try to pep yourself up, remembering the combat moves Sukuna had meticulously taught you and drilled you on.

You see red eyes approaching from the mansion and realize it’s just Sukuna. He beckons to you, waving you over. Your feet feel like lead as you force yourself to climb the staircase and walk through the open doorway.

“Watch me take out a few, then it’s your turn,” he grins. He seems to love this stuff, to love fighting because it's the first glimpse of excitement you’ve ever observed from him. Suddenly you see it, or better yet, them. Eyeless and slimy, the curses’ blue skin catches your eye in the dim room as they appear from behind a doorway on the opposite wall. You freeze up, the dark cursed energy coming off of them suffocates you, like your windpipe feeling like it is half the size now. You can’t tell if it’s panic or effects of the curses, but a feeling of despair comes on quickly.

On the contrary, Sukuna has a malicious sneer on his face, eyes glowing even brighter than before. He also looks like he has claws now, those definitely weren’t there before. 

“Watch,” he says in a gravelly voice as he delivers a swift punch to one of the curses. A gruesome sound of flesh bending grates on your ears as It bursts into a spray of purple blood. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care as it lands on his arm and clothing. “One punch with cursed energy should be enough.”

You are revolted by everything right now, feet glued to the ground and overstimulated by the sights and sounds. “I’m scared, I don’t know if I can,” your voice cracks.

“You’ve been trained by myself, the best, you are more than ready, get a grip,” he growls, irritation flashing in his eyes. 

“Your tough love attitude is not helping right now!” you lash out at him in frustration.

 Sukuna cups his chin with his hand, pondering something. “I have an idea,” he announces as he swiftly turns back towards the doorway.

Another curse appears from the same doorway. Sukuna seems to lure it out into the open, while you are unsure of what he’s trying to do. Suddenly he flicks his fingers and the curse’s leg is sliced in half. It screeches something awful, blood pouring out from where the limb was severed. 

Like a mother predator helping her young make their first kill, you realized what Sukuna was doing.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, dry heaving at the stench and sight. Also what the fuck was that move he just did? He seemed to cut the thing open without moving.

“Do it,” his voice is sharp and commanding, “hesitating can be the difference between living and dying.”

You gulp, trying to muster up the courage to charge at the curse. Remember, it can’t move, so it’s not a threat. You approach it cautiously, gathering up cursed energy in your fist. You wind up and deliver a blow to the side of its head. The flesh compresses as your fist makes contact, tearing through the skin and showering you with the purple blood you saw before. You jump back as the curse disintegrates.

“Finally,” Sukuna barks, “now I’m going to stand back while you take them on.” He moves to the entryway. You eye the interior doorway, awaiting the next curse.

It appears and you circle it, studying its movements before you make a move. The thing moves around uncoordinated like it can barely see. After watching it you realize there really is no sign of intelligence from the creature. You dart towards it and easily deliver a blow to its head, watching the life leave its eyes as your knuckles penetrate the thin skin. Another appears and you dodge it, delivering a kick this time which destroys it in a similar fashion. 

Next two come at one time, causing you to dodge more creatively as you exorcise them. You still feel the harsh ache in your bones from the dark cursed energy filling the room, but your confidence is boosted now, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

Sukuna leads the way deeper into the mansion. Little by little, you clear the rooms while he observes quietly. You feel very comfortable with taking them out now, your confidence brimming.

“The last one is stronger than the others, I’ll handle it,” Sukuna says, stepping forward. He kicks open the last door and you both come face to face with a contorted creature, its limbs broken and bones protruding from its skin. It’s like a cross between a giant centipede and a human. A dry heave bursts from your mouth and fear grips you. 

Sukuna laughs with a twisted sound, “get a load of this thing.” He taunts it, not going in for the kill immediately, like a cat playing with its food. 

“My technique uses slashing attacks, two of which being dismantle and cleave,” he explains to you while dancing around the creature that is desperately trying to hit him with its boney tail. 

“Dismantle is a series of default slashes that don’t differ in power, but I can architect it however I please with however many I want.” You notice an almost artistic crosshatch pattern of slashes appear on the creature as Sukuna carves up the surface of its skin, muscle and skin hanging from the creature like tattered cloth.

“Cleave adjusts to the target’s power and toughness to inflict a lethal amount of damage.”

He slices his hand diagonally in front of him and suddenly the curse is sliced into 4 pieces, falling to the ground like a carved up piece of meat. His technique is terrifying. You shiver at the thought of how he could kill you anytime in seconds. He looks back at you and notices the fear on your face.

“What’s wrong brat? Scared of me?”

“Kind of yeah,” you squeak out. 

“Good, you should be,” he licks the blood off his fingers. 

“Gross!”

He looks directly in your eyes and drops his hands to his sides, “You asked me to show you my technique, so I did. Let’s go.”

Back at the car you both change into your spare clothes. You are thankful to have the blood off your clothes and are excited to take a shower to not just the blood off of you but the invisible feeling of nastiness you still feel from the curses. You still feel a sense of despair and depression consuming you, no doubt a result of the sinister cursed energy within that building.

Sukuna walks you to your hotel room after everyone checks in.

“I’ll get us some dinner, come to my room when you are done showering and getting settled,” he says as he strides down to the end of the hall and disappears into his room. 

You open the door to reveal what's inside. The room is nice enough, a simple bed sits in the middle of the room with night stands on either side adorned with ornate iron lamps on each. The bathroom is quite nice too with a walk in shower and tile wall matching the sink backsplash.

You take a long hot shower, feeling very refreshed and replenished now that the blood splattered on your skin has washed away. You can’t help but think back to the mission, reliving everything as you dried yourself off. Sukuna handled it with such ease, it was impressive. Also he was such a freak for licking curse blood off of himself. Incredibly odd behavior. 

The chilling feeling from before is still apparent, but you are more used to it now as it weighs over you like a constant presence. Even though your stomach is still a little uncomfortable, it growls with hunger, evidence of the physical activity you just partook in. You change into lounge shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, then make your way to Sukuna’s room. 

You knock on the door and he is quick to answer, opening the door wearing nothing but pajama pants. Dear lord his body was to die for as your breath catches in your throat. His hair is still damp from the shower and the bold tattoos snake through the rifts and valleys of his toned body. He turns away to let you in, walking back towards the bathroom.

“Food’s on the table,” he says as he grabs his shirt and throws it on. How convenient that he answered the door shirtless, unable to wait five seconds to throw a shirt on.

You sit down and demolish your dinner quickly, him finishing not long after. You feel much more at ease having him around right now, not really wanting to be alone after dealing with the curses. You just felt off and being around someone strong like Sukuna was much more comforting.

“Want to watch something?” you suggest, grabbing the remote. You get up and get onto the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, you flip on the TV.

Sukuna crawls up next to you, leaving a gap between him and you. Even though nothing was happening, you felt a little weird being in the same bed as him. You curl your knees to your chest and pull a blanket up over you, attempting to be less exposed.

“There’s a new episode of Masterchef tonight, turn that on,” Sukuna says in a monotone voice. 

“You like Masterchef?” You ask happily. “I love it!”

“Yes brat, cooking shows are my favorite genre of TV,” he says bluntly. 

Sukuna lays on his stomach facing the TV and away from you. His shirt clings to his back muscles in a way that makes watching the show distracting, unsure if you are watching more of it or him. 

“That steak is way overcooked,” he comments as the judges cut into one of the contestants' dishes.

“It looks fine, it shouldn’t be still mooing when you eat it,” you laugh. The steak looked medium rare which was plenty fine.

“Yeah but the juices are the best part,” he turns around to look at you, making a creepy but funny face.

“Whatever,” you nudge his leg with your foot.

He turns around without a response.

You watch together, critiquing the cast and dishes and laughing at each other's comments. Sukuna certainly had a lot to say about food and contestants’ knife skills.  

It felt good, it felt right, and helped you forget about the mission and dark thoughts for a while. Joking with Sukuna was easy, he was someone you could be yourself with and not worry. You also felt like you could say anything because no matter what he was always grumpy about something, so you had nothing to lose. As the night lingered on, you felt yourself starting getting tired. You internally cursed your body, not wanting the fun night to end. 

Sukuna notices you fighting sleep, “I can walk you back to your room if you want.”

Yawning, you nod your head wordlessly, getting up and going to stand by the door while Sukuna grabs his phone and room key. You reach to grab the door handle, but feel him grasp your arm, pulling you to face him.

Everything happens so fast, next thing you know his lips are on yours and you are pressed against the door. You squeak in surprise, but quickly surrender to the kiss, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth. The salty taste from dinner lingering on his tongue and his body wash enveloping your nose. He tips your chin up, allowing him deeper access, practically feeling his tongue down your throat. You hardly have time to react before he pulls back with a pop.

This kiss is quick but intense, leaving you half dazed, your mind a pile of mush as you long for more, wishing you had been more alert to match his energy.

“Come on, let's get you back to your room brat,” he opens the door, allowing you to leave first. Finally your legs move, carrying you down the hall. Your heart is pounding on the walk back while walking on unsteady legs. 

You don’t want to be alone right now, you want more time with him, want more of him. You feel safe in his presence as the unsettling feeling is still present from earlier. 

You open your door and glance back at him. “Night Sukuna.”

“G’night,” he says with a tired look on his face, standing just outside the door of your room, hands shoved in his pockets. 

Heart beating a hundred miles an hour, you can’t bring yourself to shut him out. The doorframe acts like a barrier between you and him that shouldn’t be breached. But with all things that should be off limits, even the threat of eternal damnation has never been enough of a deterrent against the sin of tasting the forbidden. 

He goes to turn around when suddenly you reach out, not sure if your brain made this decision or if your body just was running on autopilot. 

You grab his arm, your voice uttering a simple word:

 “stay.” 

<< Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

Masterlist

[silvermizuki]

I’m sick of American health/dental care because what the fuck.

They’re charging me $145 dollars for STICKING THEIR FINGER IN MY MOUTH. I’m not over exaggerating that, there is a hard lesion in my mouth they needed to do X-rays on, which is what was supposed to be done, so they just ran a finger on the inside of my gums to feel for it before the X-ray 😃 WHY IS THAT AN EXTRA FEE

AND MY INSURANCE DIDNT COVER IT. WHAT GOOD IS HAVING INSURANCE IF YOURE NOT GOING TO COVER THAT SHIT WHAT THE FUCK