#please know there was nothing I could have done

[lastoneout]

Sorry to add on(also sorry it's so long) but this is also why now is a good time to start wearing masks if you stopped.

We have been on the road to a potential Bird Flu(H5N1 or HPAI) pandemic for the last year and while we still haven't seen evidence of Human to Human spread...monitoring that and giving the public information in case thing change was the job of the CDC, NIH, and FDA, all of who have been silenced by Trump. There's a very real possibility that H5N1 could go H2H and without anyone noticing and/or without the ones who notice being allowed to speak about it. Currently samples from any US H5N1 cases HAVE to be sent to the CDC to confirm, most hospitals and state agencies don't have tests that can distinguish between different types of Influenza A, and the CDC just got gagged. One of the only agencies in the US that can confirm human cases and tell the public if H5N1 goes H2H was just forbidden to talk to anyone at all.

Every single disease expert and vet and doctor who has been talking about H5N1 is sounding the alarm on this because the US's reaction was already painfully inadequate, and now we don't even know if the US government is going to do anything about it at all. And like, we don't even know for sure how bad H5N1 could be as a pandemic! There are already off-shoots like the one in cows that seems to mostly be mild in humans, but that's just one variant. Worse ones have killed or nearly killed people, and all versions have devastated animal populations around the world, and it's already proven extremely difficult to contain even in countries that ARE doing everything they can to stop it.

We could be fine, or we could have a pandemic with a virus that can kill way more efficiently than COVID living in a country led by a president who oversaw COVID and who's inaction during that disaster is responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths who fills his government health positions with anti-vaxxers and raw milk snake oil salesmen and forbids the agencies that are supposed to handle this from talking about it at all.

We are in the dark. We don't know when the CDC, FDA, and NIH are going to be allowed to speak to us again(they said Feb 1st but I don't trust them not to extend it, and that's still too long for them to be silent, we were supposed to get several H5N1 alerts today and that obviously didn't happen) and tbh just seeing what happened with TikTok does make me worry they're also going to come back wrong.

So please, start masking again. Get your flu and covid shots(and others you might be due for). Buy extra masks if you can, and be willing to pass them out to friends and loved ones. Keep you cats inside, and do NOT feed them raw pet food or milk. You also should avoid raw milk, pasteurized is still safe. Avoid interacting with wild aninals, especially birds and especially ones that seem sick. Wear an N95, gloves, and goggles if you have to clean up a dead one. If you can stay home when you're sick please do and if you can't PLEASE MASK, studies have shown if you wear it properly even a baggy surgical mask is better than nothing. And like OP says, pay attention.

This gag order is genuinely really scary, worse than what I expected back in November, so please do what you can to minimize the damage that can be done to yourself, your loved ones, your community, and the world as a whole. We're on our own but we're still in this together. Don't give up, but be safe.

Trump has ordered the FDA, CDC and NIH to "pause communications with the public" until February 1st, with includes new regulations, announcements, press, we posts and more until they are "approved by a political appointee". Please keep your eyes on this. Trump is about to fuck up FDA shit again and we may potentially see a radical change in regulations on our health and food.

Some in my circle were talking about subscribing to European FDA communications and only taking medications and advice vetted in Europe until then or for the foreseeable future.

[bloggerspam]

Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"

[mulloey]

unwelcome • pt 2

read part one here

stepdad!mingyu x fem!reader

words: 3.8k

warnings: this is pretty fucked up. stepfather relationship, infidelity, mingyu n u are not good people rly, brat/brat tamer dynamics, mean hard dom!mingyu, daddy kink, dirty talk, punishment, pussy slapping, gyu refers to you as ‘daughter’ and himself as ‘father’ in a sexual context a couple times, not really dubcon but there’s certainly a power imbalance, breeding, pregnancy mention, heavy degradation, choking etc. this is pretty intense.

you’ve been appropriately warned of the content of this fic and are solely responsible for what you consume. don’t like, don’t read. hate is blocked.

-

it’s been a week since the incident in the kitchen— since mingyu had finally snapped, since you felt his firm hands and long fingers restraining and touching you as he pleased. since the event that you thought would have changed everything with your stepfather. except it hasn’t.

mingyu has said nothing about what transpired that day, and neither have you. you tried to, once, but a hand around your neck and whispered warning that “that wasn’t what you thought it was” had shut you down quickly. he’s still strict, but it’s from a distance now— he doesn’t scold or reprimand you, but nor does he praise or really interact with you in any way. you never thought you would, but you miss it. you miss him.

your mother is gone, again. she seems to have picked up on the energy shift in the house over the past week and, like you, doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. so she’s chosen to stay away, assuming that whatever’s going on will resolve itself as it always does. you had hoped it would too— except mingyu won’t let you get near him.

today you’ve been mulling it over; holed up in your room with your blanket around your shoulders. you’d gone down earlier to grab a piece of toast; you’d felt your stepfather’s eyes on you the whole time you were in the kitchen, but you paid him no mind, grabbing your toast and quickly retreating back upstairs without a word. you wish you hadn’t heard his sigh of relief when you walked away.

you can’t live like this anymore, you know that. whatever thick, immobilizing tension is separating you two, pulling at one and pushing at the other, needs to break. and you will break it, even if just to have back the annoying, obnoxious man you used to hate. it’s better than… whatever this is.

you discuss it at length with your best friend, pearl, over drinks at your favourite bar downtown. she’s the only one you could turn to with something like this— the only one you can trust not to judge you. not that you don’t deserve to be judged; you’ve done an awful thing, after all. you’ve allowed your mother’s husband to touch and finger you. you’ve not just helped him to betray your mother, but you’ve betrayed her yourself.

you’re past that now, though. you’ll make it up to her later. and if mingyu’s willing to do that to his own step daughter then clearly he’s not the right man for your mom anyway. it doesn’t make you feel a whole lot better.

but pearl doesn’t judge you; she never does. you’ve known each other since you were babies, for one, but more importantly, she has (to your annoyance), been saying from the start how utterly delectable your new stepfather is. if anything, she’s probably annoyed she didn’t get to fuck him first.

she listens silently and thoughtfully as you run her through the events of last week, tapping her manicured nails against the wood of the table. by the time you finish, a sly, knowing smile has reached her face.

“isn’t it obvious?” she asks.

you hesitate, confused. “isn’t what obvious?”

“what you need to do,” she says. “to fix this.”

“not to me,” you say. “i mean, i need to fuck him, i think. but i can’t do that when he barely even talks to me now.”

she shrugs, twirling the little cocktail umbrella between her fingers. “so make him jealous.”

“what?”

“piss him off, y/n,” she says. “bring someone home and let him see that you’re moving on. i guarantee you he won’t like it.”

you slump back in your seat, thinking for a moment. it’s a good plan— if it goes right. if it goes wrong, well… you doubt anything could be worse than this. “okay,” you say. “i’ll do that.”

it takes two more days to find the nerve to bring home a boy from your campus. you were careful to choose someone you wouldn’t have to interact with after today if it all went catastrophically wrong, which means the TA in your thesis group who makes eyes at you from across the room is off the table (sorry, wonwoo), but who you’ve seen and interacted with enough that it won’t seem weird when you invite them home with you.

you have no real intentions with joshua, but he’s nice enough, around your age and very horny, so you figure he’ll do fine; indeed, he can barely keep his hands off you as you walk into the house and accidentally-on-purpose make your presence known with a loud laugh. his wandering hands only leave you when your stepfather rounds the corner into the lobby.

he’s dressed in his pyjamas still, and he looks tired and irritated until he spots the boy next to you— and the non-existent, certainly non-platonic gap between you. in an instant he’s awake and the irritation is gone, replaced with anger. his palms twitch at his side, desperate to break the calm demeanor that he’s hanging onto by a thread. little slut.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. he tries to keep his voice cool and leveled but the resulting sound is low and dangerous, like a predator about to strike.

joshua swallows and you feel him tensing up nervously beside you. whether it’s to calm him down or to provoke mingyu further, you're not sure, but you grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. joshua relaxes slightly, and mingyu’s eyes narrow.

“hi,” joshua finally says. “i’m jo–”

“i don’t give a rat's ass who you are,” mingyu says sharply. “tell me what you’re doing here and what your hands are doing on my daughter, now.”

joshua’s eyes widen and he seems to shrink further into himself, wishing he was anywhere else. “look, man,” he says, “i don’t want any trouble. we were just gonna hang out.”

“yeah?” mingyu asks. “not anymore. plans changed, i’m afraid. we’re busy this evening.”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “busy with what?”

mingyu says nothing, just raises a cool eyebrow at you with a blank expression. you feel joshua’s gaze flicker between the two of you in confusion and discomfort.

clearly, he wants nothing to do with this. you don’t blame him; and he’s served his purpose anyway. you’ll make it up to him another day. buy him a coffee or something. doesn’t really matter right now.

“i’m just gonna go,” he mutters. he catches your eye as he walks past, face contorted half in sympathy and half in fear— fear for you, it seems. if only he knew that you’re halfway to getting exactly what you wanted.

“see you around, josh,” you say, but your eyes are already locked with your stepfather.

the door slams shut and he’s on you instantly, hand on your neck as you’re shoved harshly against the wall. the impact is so sharp and sudden that it sends the small painting hung up next to you crashing down, but neither of you notice; not when you’re looking at him with such lust and he’s looking at you with such ire. you could cut the tension between you with a knife, but even then, you’re not sure if it would break. the tiny gap between his face and yours and the heavy breathing as he looks you up and down is electrifying like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“min—”

“shut up,” he says. “i’ve had it with you.” his voice is almost shaking with rage and he stares at you for a moment before his large hand impacts the side of your face. you shriek in pain and surprise, reaching to clutch your stinging cheek but he grabs your wrist with the hand that had just slapped you, holding it firmly above your head.

“fucking slut,” he says. “parading your little boy toy through my house as if i wouldn’t know what you’re doing. debasing yourself like a cheap whore. is that what you thought i wanted?”

your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. you both know the answer but you don’t want to say it. he shakes his head, chuckling dryly.

“no, it’s not,” he says. “because you never cared or even thought about what i might want. only ever thought about yourself, didn’t you?”

you feel yourself shrink under his gaze and the venom of his words and he smiles briefly. his eyes roam your body, lingering on your chest that rises and falls with your heavy, panicked breathing. fuck, he’s practically drunk on the power he has over you right now.

his grip on your neck tightens momentarily— just enough to remind you of how small and breakable you are under his grip. “too fucking cock drunk to think about anything else,” he says lowly. “fuck. i should‘ve made your friend stay so i could fuck you in front of him, shouldn’t i? teach you both a lesson.”

his words hit you in the stomach, knots of arousal twisting in your gut. you know he sees the way your thighs clench together at the image. “i…” you trail off; you have nothing to say. he knows it too. he lifts his hand from your neck to stroke your cheek with a surprising tenderness.

“pretty thing,” he mutters. “my little girl.” he’s silent for a moment, eyes raking over your face, so small and fragile in his strong hands. his grip tightens, squeezing your jaw. “apologise,” he says.

you frown, confused. “for what?”

he snorts like it’s obvious. “provoking me, for one,” he says. “using that poor boy to get a rise out of me. and being a rude, bratty little girl simply because i wasn’t giving you enough attention.”

you roll your eyes before you can think it through and he’s quick to react, his hand slapping you again before returning to your neck. “no respect,” he mutters. “you obviously need an attitude adjustment. and that’s exactly what daddy’s gonna give you.”

you bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the name he’s given himself, but it’s no use. your stepfather is far too tuned in, far too in control, to let anything slip past him. his lips curl into a thin, sneering smile. “liked that, did you?” he asks. “you like being fucked by your fucking father?”

“mingyu,” you whine. your face burns at the humiliation of not just his words, but the truth of them— mingyu is your stepfather. he’s married to your mother. and you’d do anything to have your hands on his dick right now.

“no,” he says. “you don’t get to call me that. if you could act like a mature fucking adult then maybe i’d let you but you can’t, can you? you’ve been a little fucking brat since i met you and it’s about time i treated you like one.”

there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen since that day in the kitchen, only now it burns both brighter and darker than before. as he finally releases his grip of you against the wall, only to drag you by the hair through to the living room, you get the feeling you’re about to see mingyu in a way even the episode in the kitchen couldn’t have clued you into.

he shoves you down, watching you stumble to the floor with a surprised shriek. you sit yourself up, leaning on your hands as you stare up at him where he towers above you— tall, imposing, and terrifying.

he’s silent, watching you closely before he sighs and walks over to sit himself down on the couch. “come here.”

your legs are shaking as you struggle to pull yourself up from the floor. his jaw twitches, fists clenching. you’ve never looked so pathetic, never felt so humiliated and you still have all your clothes on. he reaches out to pull you towards him and you stumble forwards until you land on his lap— over his lap. you feel your short skirt flip up over your ass from the sudden motion, exposing your black lace panties. he chuckles, grabbing one of your ass cheeks and squeezing it firmly. your breath hitches.

“mm,” hums appreciatively. “this is how i like to see you, daughter mine. bent over and ready to submit.”

you squirm, thighs clenching at the low timbre of his voice; the deepening of it as he calls you his daughter. jesus. this is so fucked up.

his finger trails the inside of your thigh, stopping just short of your pussy. he fingers at the hem of your panties, right next to your pussy, watching the way you react to his touch as he teases the edge of your underwear like he’s inspecting it. he sees the wetness seeping through the black fabric and chuckles. “that desperate, baby?” he asks.

you say nothing, still processing the situation you find yourself in and he slaps your ass harshly, making you jolt. “answer,” he says darkly. “or i’ll just spank you and send you to bed without release. is that what you want, little girl?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head fervently. you won’t deny it; the idea of being spanked by mingyu, not for sex, not for foreplay, but solely for punishment, is embarrassingly tantalising. but you’ve been waiting too long to have him touch you like this again and if you don’t get to feel his dick inside you tonight you might actually go insane. “no, i don’t,” you say.

he laughs, pinching the sensitive skin of your thigh and rubbing the red mark soothingly. “look at you,” he chuckles. “so bratty and disrespectful but so quick to submit once i use a bit of force. can’t believe i wasted my time on your mother when i had this little kitten here waiting for me.”

his words are like cold water as they wash over you— your mother. this isn’t just your stepfather— this is your mother’s husband. this is the man she loves and relies on, who swore to be hers for the rest of his life. and you’re bent over his lap and trying desperately not to grind against his thick, strong thigh. you’re the worst daughter ever.

and if you weren’t before, you certainly are when you mewl out a desperate, “please, daddy, fuck me.”

“hm,” he says. “such good manners, i’m almost tempted.” his finger trails along your panties before finally sliding over your covered pussy. you gasp, squirming again when he ghosts over your clit. he presses down a little, enough to make you pulse slightly, then lets go. “what a shame you had to be such a brat.”

you make a noise of confusion, craning your head around to see mingyu sliding your panties down to your ankles, exposing you fully to him with your skirt by now halfway up your back. you catch his gaze and he raises an eyebrow. “turn around,” he says. “i’m gonna teach you how to fucking act around me.”

swallowing, you obey, turning around to bury your head in the pillows of the couch. you feel him raise the thigh you’re bent over, giving him easier access. you close your eyes, bracing for the first hit against your ass. you’re ready for it, you think— what you’re not ready for, is for him to suddenly tilt you forwards and start slapping your pussy instead.

the first strike makes you shriek and he gives you no time to recover before continuing. your pussy is far more sensitive than your ass, not to mention dripping, but he hits you with the same brute strength he’d used on your ass and face. the pain is white hot and searing and you hear the impact of each slap; and the wet, squelching sound of his hand against fluid gushing from you. strings of cream are connecting to his hand, following it each time he pulls away to wind up for another hit. you feel him hardening beneath you and adjust yourself a little without realising, trying to grind against his cock subconsciously. he grabs your waist to tug you back into place and delivers an extra hard swat right on your clit.

it’s so painful and so arousing that you don’t even notice when it’s over. not until he’s pulled you off his lap and pressed his leaking cock against his entrance do you finally realise what’s happening. he’s going to fuck you. finally.

he leans over where you’ve found yourself on all fours on the couch, lips pressing against your ear. “ask me to fuck you, baby,” he whispers. you gasp as he rubs himself against you and he chuckles. “c’mon, filthy girl. ask me nicely.”

“p-please,” you stutter. all your nerves are on fire and pushing against your skin, senses heightened as he slowly starts to push into you. “more,” he groans.

“daddy,” you gasp. his hands are on your waist as he guides himself into you, moaning at the way you sob his name. “fuck,” he grunts.

when he finally gets in all the way it’s overwhelming; mingyu is huge, beyond huge, and you’ve never been this full before. you feel him pressing against your cervix even without moving yet there’s none of the pain or discomfort that someone of his size would usually bring. it feels right. like you were made to take him and he was made to take you.

he starts moving without a word; slow thrusts that get faster and harder until he’s completely pounding you, fucking into you desperately like a wild animal. he sounds like one, too; you both do, yelling and grunting as you pushing yourselves deeper into the other. his grip on your waist is bruising but comfortable and you sink into it, lost in pleasure.

you chant his name on repeat — “daddy, daddy, daddy” — the only word that comes to you as he fucks you open. he leans over you, pressing his face into the back of your neck and kissing down the top of your back before straightening up again, angling himself to go deeper.

“you love this, don’t you?” he spits. “love being whored out by your stepfather. is that why you moved back home? to make yourself available to me?”

you groan at his words, clenching around him. you both know that’s not true, but it may as well be— you certainly won’t be moving back out again anytime soon now. you want to stay with him, be available for him— a waiting hole for him to use. fuck, you're depraved, but so is he; he groans when you say it out loud, thrusting harder. “that’s right,” he grunts. “just a hole f’me. just a fuck toy for your daddy, yeah?”

you choke, crying out when he slams into you again. you reach your arms back, trying to touch him and he grabs them, folding them against your back and holding you down.

“i knew it,” he laughs. “knew from the moment i met you that you just needed some dick. knew it had to be mine, fuck.”

“yes,” you gasp. “yours, yours, gyu, has to be yours.” you’re babbling and delirious now and he’s fucking high on it. he presses more of his weight onto you, trapping you beneath him— as if you’d ever want to get away.

“good girl,” he whispers. “i’m gonna fuck you every fucking day. every time that bitch leaves the house you’re gonna come and fucking present yourself to me, understand? gonna come offer up your holes to daddy.”

“yes,” you whine. “always, daddy.”

“i’m never fucking your mother again,” he says. “i’ve got this perfect little pussy now instead and it’s all mine.”

by now the sensations of his dick slamming into you have become a constant rhythm, allowing you to cling to it as you go dumber and dumber on his cock. you could stay like this forever; split open and abused while he spits filth into your ear; but you can tell from the clenching of your pussy and the throbbing of his cock that you’re both close to the edge. he grunts, grabbing your hair to pull your head backwards and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “good girl,” he says, movements speeding up. “i’m gonna cum in you. gonna put a fucking kid in you. you want that?”

you know mingyu knows you’re on birth control; he’s seen the pills you keep in the medicine cabinet and heard you discuss your prescription with your mother. but fuck, the idea of him getting you pregnant, your own stepfather knocking you up, is so twisted and exhilarating that it propels you towards your orgasm. you feel yourself releasing over his dick, drenching the couch and he makes a noise of delight. “didn’t know you squirted, baby,” he moans. “that’s so fucking perfect, god.”

“daddy,” you moan. “mingyu.” you’ve gone limp on his dick now, fucked out and exhausted but you’re smart enough to recognise that this stops when he’s finished. he’s almost there, though, you can tell; his grip on your tightens, moans getting louder until he spits out a “clench, slut,” and releases into you the moment you obey.

he collapses on top of you once he’s done, face pressed into your back. you’re both filthy; covered in sweat and cum and drool but you don’t care. you’ve never felt so satisfied in your fucking life.

mingyu pulls you into his arms and you relax into his hold, breathing deeply against his chest. it’s perfect peace, utter bliss— while it lasts. minutes later he jumps up, looking panicked.

you stare up at him in confusion. “mingyu?”

“your mother’s coming back,” he says. your stomach drops. “in 30 fucking minutes.”

panic takes over and you force yourself to your feet; it’s dizzying and disorients you for a moment, but mingyu is quick to catch you when you stumble, helping you steady yourself before he releases you. mercifully, most of the mess is on the two of you; the couch is pretty much clean. mingyu orders you into the shower and you obey, scrubbing away all the evidence of what you’ve just done. you hear him run past your room a few minutes later, and when you emerge, you’re both clean and in your pyjama. only the way he looks at you as you walk downstairs together gives away what’s happened.

your mother looks tired when she walks through the door, but smiles sweetly when she spots her husband and daughter waiting in the kitchen for her. she plants a long, wet kiss on mingyu’s lips and you feel your stomach twist in envy. looking away, you turn back to see his eyes on you, dark and scrutinising as your mother sits down at the table.

“how are my loves?” she asks. you smile weakly at her, wracked with guilt but at the same time wishing she would just get the fuck out so you can fuck her husband again.

mingyu puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it fondly, but his eyes never leave you as he speaks.

“we’re perfect.”

-

requests open! feedback, reblogs and comments are appreciated. love🖤🖤🖤

taglist open!

[demonic0angel]

Piggybacking off the protective Jason one, can you please do one where Danny is actually on his side for once/approves of him and tears the JL a new one for arresting his sister. (Idk if Danny is ghost king in your au so if not maybe like a diplomat or something so he can still give her diplomatic immunity.)

(Hell yeah 🫡)

Part 1

“We can’t just allow this to happen!” Green Lantern demanded. “If this just goes on, then what example are we supposed to be setting?! And Batman, how come you never told us that you worked with a literal crime lord?!”

Superman looked despondent. “I heard that he killed hundreds of people and once put decapitated heads into a bag. Batman… why were we not informed?”

Batman was silent. It was Flash who asked, “Wait, what’s going on?”

Green Lantern turned to him and said, “Spooky over here has a son that he never told us about that bailed out his partner that we captured! Wolf was ready for interrogation when the Red Hood came and took her out! Wolf is one of the most biggest figures in the underworld right now! Even if Red Hood’s your son, why did you just let him go with Wolf?!”

Phantom suddenly spoke up for the first time. His tone was very curt. “I’m sorry, did you just say ‘Wolf’?”

Everyone paused. Phantom was young, yes, but no one could deny his power and strength. If it wasn’t his raw power on the battlefield, it was his experience as king and god that made everyone pause in place to listen.

Green Lantern looked sullen but nodded. “Yes, Wolf. Y’know, the bombshell in all black leather, wearing a helmet, taller than 6 feet?”

Phantom’s gaze grew cold. “When did you capture her?”

Superman asked, “Do you know her?”

Wonder Woman suddenly spoke up. “We captured her only a few hours before she was broken out of the interrogation room. She faced no harm, but she did mention someone during her stay here. She mentioned that her little brother would have words with us if we hurt her…. Is her little brother you?”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Phantom scowled. “That’s right. Wolf is my big sister, and while it is partially my fault that you were not aware of her status, I know her very well. She must’ve tried to argue for herself, didn’t she? Did you lock her up even when she tried to talk you out of it? Did you let her speak at all or did you just throw her straight into the room to be interrogated?”

Wonder Woman’s eyes widened in guilt. “I—!”

Even Martian Manhunter winced.

Phantom growled and stood up. “As you know, my people and I came here to this world for diplomatic reasons to learn from and protect this place. It is my fault for not telling you about my sister’s identity, but I am sorely disappointed by how you handled this situation. As heroes, you should’ve been willing to listen and hear her out, even if you believed that she was a criminal.”

Frost began to form under his fingertips before they receded as the Ghost King forcibly calmed himself. “My decision is this: the Red Hood has done nothing wrong by protecting my sister. Since they are both my citizens, I will do my best to protect them and I say that we cease this persecution. I owe the Red Hood many debts, so if we continue this idea and you insist on capturing both of them… do not blame me if I pick a fight with you all to protect my people.”

Stunned silence.

After all, what could they say to that? After he just dropped several bombs at once?

Everyone agreed to his demands. After all, no one was really that suicidal to hunt down the man who was owed debts by the Ghost King and said Ghost King’s sister.

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part One

Part Two

Part Three:

After the confrontation at your house a night prior, JJ had only been able to see red, quickly pacing past your mum before making his way to the Chateau, kicking over some bins and verbally abusing some kids on his way.

He couldn't believe that you liked him. That you wanted to be with him. The thought stressed him out and made him regret doing whatever he'd done to get you to fall for him.

It wasn't that he didn't like you back. In fact it was quite the opposite - he'd been entirely obsessed with you ever since you'd arrived in the Outer Banks. His issue was that he'd seen up close just how damaged you were, just how sweet and kind you could be, just how much you deserved the world and everything in it - but not him. He wasn't good enough; not cool enough, not smart enough, not clean enough.

"Why him?" He thought. "Of everyone on this island, why him?"

You could've gone for Pope or John B or even one of the Kooks, at least they would treat you right. It might've killed him inside to see, but it would've been better than the pain he was feeling now, knowing that he'd been unintentionally hurting you this whole time, knowing that he was the one who bore the responsibility of your heart.

He stormed into John B's without stopping, going straight for the blunt in the ashtray and then storming back outside. From his behaviour, the Pogues feared for the worst and Kie's eyes were quickly tearing up, panic settling into her chest.

"She's okay, isn't she?" She followed JJ outside in a pleading tone, shortly followed by Pope and John B. "Please say she's okay."

JJ didn't answer, angrily sucking on the blunt and staring out at the sea, his mind racing.

"Answer me JJ! What's happened?" Kie demanded.

"Is she alright? Was she at home?" Pope questioned.

"JJ- fucking answer us man! Is she at the hospital? Is she- is she okay?" John B shouted.

JJ took another sharp drag on the blunt before solemnly answering.

"She's fine. I mean, she's not, but she's alive."

Kie shoved him with some frustration, her tears quickly drying up but her teeth gritting.

"Why the hell would you scare us like that? What happened?"

"We had an argument... I- You were right Kie. It is my fault."

She blinked incredulously, double taking as she tried to suss out what was wrong with the boy.

"What are you talking about?" She questioned angrily.

He took another sharp drag, even sharper this time, ran his hand through his hair and then turned to the Pogues with exasperation.

"Y/N likes me! And I've been a fucking idiot to not see it. I shouldn't have rubbed all those girls in her face. I didn't think she cared, but.. I guess she did."

"So you're saying that like it's a bad thing. I thought you liked her too." John B proclaimed in a confused tone, shooting a look to Pope who had also been aware of JJ's crush.

Kie was kicking herself for not picking up on that, wishing she’d known and she could’ve told you weeks ago - before you even had the chance to get depressed and pick up a pill again. But she didn’t focus on that thought for too long, more focused on your current wellbeing.

"I do, I just- We all know I'm a piece of shit, okay? I don't deserve someone like her. Hopefully she sees that now." JJ tutted, his eyes darting between each of the Pogues.

The uncertainty of his statement made them all nervous. 'Hopefully she sees that now' - what the hell did that mean?

"What do you mean? What did you do?" Kie hissed, her heart in her throat.

"Nothing! I was just rude. I guess I rejected her. Called her a junkie-"

Kie hit him again, seething with the boy at that point.

"What is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you do that?" She snapped, grabbing the blunt from his hand and throwing it onto the floor. "Go back there now and tell her you love her! She's probably crying her heart out right now."

JJ shook his head, thinking about picking up the blunt from the ground but not bothering. Weed wasn't strong enough to make him feel better anyway. He wanted to follow Kie's instruction, he wanted to hold you and tell you his truth, but he could think of too many reasons why not to - too many reasons why you were better off without him. The rejection may hurt now but you would get over it. You had plenty of other options. You would get sober again and you would be fine. His issue was that whether he was sober or not, he was never fine.

"Being with me would only fuck up her life more and you all know that! You should just convince her to like someone else, someone whose good for her. I can't do this." JJ protested.

"You're not a bad guy, man. Come on." John B said but JJ just shook his head again, walking towards his motorbike.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Pope scoffed as JJ got onto the bike.

"I told her to turn on her phone. Try calling her again." He said numbly before kick starting the bike and speeding off.

Kie groaned, unsurprised that when she called your phone moments later it didn't go through. She sat melancholically next to Pope, leaning on his shoulder whilst John B stressfully kicked a stick around.

"Well that's not what I was expecting." Pope sighed and then turned to Kie. "How long has Y/N been crushing on JJ exactly?"

She shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know. Forever. But that doesn't matter anyway. I'm worried. It must've taken a lot for her to admit that she likes him, so she's either really manic or.."

"Really high." John B finished her sentence, not looking up from the ground.

"How much do you want to bet it's the second one?" Pope groaned.

"I just don't get why she didn't talk to me if JJ was upsetting her this much. She promised us she'd never use again. She's never broken a promise before." Kie sighed and then stood up. "I'm gonna go to hers. I'm annoyed but.. I'm more worried than anything. I wonder if her mum has clocked on yet… I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

"Love that woman but she's clueless so I doubt it." John B scoffed dryly. "See you tomorrow Kie."

Kie picked up her bike and rode it to your house, her mind racing with all the possibilities of what you could be doing.

"Most likely passed out or crying." She thought, her chest aching as she thought of your pain. You'd been through a lot together, and though she was beyond frustrated with your relapse, she wouldn't stop being your friend because of it.

When Kie eventually knocked on your door, your mum was surprised to open it to her.

"Isn't Y/N at yours? That's where she said she was going. JJ upset her quite a bit earlier." Your mum questioned and Kie was quick to catch on to the lie.

"Oh yeah- yeah she is. She's just so upset right now. She forgot some stuff and I said I would come and get it for her."

"You're so lovely Kie. What would she do without you?" Your mum smiled, letting her in.

When Kie went up to your bedroom and picked up a bag to strengthen her lie, she was concerned to see that your phone was still on your bed. Wherever you'd gone, you hadn't brought it. She turned on the phone in hope that it would give some clue as to where you could be, but all that came through were the missed calls and messages from the Pogues.

Kie couldn't let herself panic though. You were grown enough to look after yourself.

"Maybe she just went on a walk. Or a bike ride even. That's most likely. She probably just went to clear her head. I'll try again tomorrow." Kie thought to herself, but she took the phone anyway, hoping that when you came back you would have to come get it off her. She scrawled a note onto your mirror with an eyeliner from the side; "Got ur phone. P4L. - K"

The next day, Kie waited until the afternoon to leave her house, waiting for your knock on the door that never came. She decided that she would go back to your house and confront you there, but when she arrived there was no one inside. Your mum would be at work - that made sense - but after pounding on your door loud enough to wake you up from whatever slumber you might be in and getting no answer, she started to panic.

All of the worst possibilities sprung into her head - a horrific vision of you overdosed and alone, bent over the toilet and throwing up uncontrollably or even passed out and foaming at the mouth - so she quickly rushed to find the spare key under one of the many plant pots and slammed it into the door. She ran up the stairs, loudly repeating your name as she did, and paced into your room.

"Y/N, please be okay." She said before opening the door, her heart dropping when you weren't in the bed.

Nothing in the room had moved, not the crumpled up bedding, the pile of clothes in the corner nor the note on the mirror. You hadn't come back.

"Shit. Where the fuck is she?" She muttered to herself before pacing around the house, desperately searching for you but finding nothing. "Need to find her."

Now her mind raced to even darker corners. Perhaps you'd fallen into one of the many bodies of water on the island, high and uncoordinated, and drowned. Or maybe you'd crashed your bike into an oncoming vehicle. Maybe you'd passed out somewhere and someone had called an ambulance, or maybe you’d put yourself in danger without even realising it. She had no idea how spot on she was with the last prediction.

Kie had told Pope of her plan to force you to come to hers by keeping your phone, and all of the boys had assumed that the confrontation had been over and done with by that point, so they were confused when she turned up at the Chateau without you.

"Did you speak to YN?" JJ asked, springing up from his seat as soon as he spotted Kie.

He'd hardly slept, tossing around in his bed all night as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to you but couldn't. "It was better this way." He tried to convince himself "She's better off thinking I don't want her. Maybe she didn't even mean what she said. Maybe she was just high." He couldn't push the image of him holding you and loving you from his head though.

"No. She never came to mine." Kie huffed, wheeling her bike over with furrowed brows. "And before you ask - yes I went to hers, she's not there. Doesn't look like she's been home at all since I went there last night."

"So where is she?" John B questioned, his posture tightening.

"Do I look like I know?" Kie snapped. "I'm seriously worried."

"Shit." JJ hissed, instantly jumping into a panic. He was quick and erratic. "Okay. We should all split up and look for her. I'll check the marsh and the forest, Kie you should check figure eight, Pope you check town, and John B you take the boat and check the waters. Report back here in two hours."

He rushed towards his motorbike before anyone could even answer, but stopped in his tracks when Pope suggested a disheartening idea. It was an idea that had occurred to both John B and Kie as soon as JJ had announced his plan, though it didn’t surprise them that he didn’t think of it. He was someone who always lived in a somewhat state of denial.

"Don't you think one of us should check the hospital too? You know, just in case."

JJ swallowed, catching the lump in his throat before it could properly form, and nodded.

"Y-Yeah. You do that." He said without turning around. He wanted to argue - to say that the idea was ridiculous and a waste of time - but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Pope might be right, and if he was... JJ had to cut his thoughts off before they got too hard to bare. He jumped onto his bike and sped off, heading straight to the marshes.

His search was obviously fruitless. He waded through knee high mud and lifted up heavy logs. He dug through thick bushes and climbed up trees. He shouted your name at the top of his lungs and prayed to God that you would appear.

But none of it worked.

By time the two hour mark had hit, he'd searched miles of forestry and worked up quite a sweat. Still, he wouldn't stop until he knew you were safe.

"Maybe one of the others have found her." He thought desperately to himself, jumping on his bike and heading back to the Chateau. They'd all tried to convince themselves with the same hopeful thought and been sorely disappointed when they eventually returned to their friends. JJ was the last to arrive.

"Any luck?" He shouted from his bike before he'd even got off it, springing across the lawn.

The rest of the Pogues were stood in a circle, also damp with sweat and breathing heavily. They looked upset which was understandable given the situation, but JJ felt his heart jump into his throat as he worried that the unimaginable had happened.

"Pope! She wasn't in the hospital, was she?" He asked with urgency, pacing over to the boy.

Pope was breathing heavily, still catching his breath from the run back to the Chateau.

"Pope!" JJ repeated in an almost shout, shaking his friends shoulders.

"No- No." Pope panted out.

"Chill, JJ. None of us had any luck." John B patted him on the back with a sympathetic look.

It didn't calm him down though. Instead he started to anxiously pace, running his hands through his hair and repeating to himself "Think, JJ. Think!"

"She might just be at someone's house. Who knows, she could be having a great time right now while we're thinking the worst." John B suggested which Kie rolled her eyes at.

"The only people she’d ever hang out with other than us are druggie degenerates, so it's not exactly great if she's with them either. Those people wouldn't care if she was on the floor foaming at the mouth."

"Well I don't know what you want me to suggest, Kie! We've looked everywhere else. Should we start banging on the doors of every junkie we know? Because that could take a while!"

As John B and Kie bickered, JJ continued his pacing, racking his mind for ideas until one shot into his head like a bullet.

"Wait-Wait. What did you just say?" He turned to his arguing friends.

"That she's probably with some drugged up degenerate?" John B answered in a sarcastic tone.

"That's it! She's probably at her dealers house. And I know only one scum bag who sells that prescription shit."

JJ ran back to his bike without saying another word, ignoring the questions from the Pogues as he kick started it and sped off - some hope finally in his mind though it was still mostly clouded by worry.

"Should we follow him?" Pope asked.

"Probably." Kie answered, heading towards the Twinkie with a sigh.

It was ten minutes later that JJ pulled up by Barry's house, carefully parking his bike around the corner so that the dealer wouldn't see him. They'd had their fair share of arguments already about JJ's dad and due to this JJ knew that he had a gun. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught on his property.

The blonde paced through the overgrown front lawn and almost jumped for joy when he saw your bike strewn lazily into one of the bushes - the signature ugly green paint instantly catching his eye. You would just be sat on the sofa smoking a joint or something. He could knock on the door, distract Barry without getting shot somehow and get you out of there in no time.

Then the sound of a large vehicle coming towards the house reached his ears, and he quickly ducked around the corner and crouched under one of the windows, anxious to not be caught by one of Barry's customers either. They typically weren't the most reasonable people after all. He was relieved with his decision when Rafe Cameron jumped out of the truck, music blaring and obnoxiously announcing himself as he knocked loudly on the front door.

JJ's ear pricked as he heard Barry's voice from inside, not having realised that the window on the wall above his head was open.

"Shit." The dealer tutted, followed by the sound of a zip. "Why now?"

Barry's breathing was heavy, like he'd been doing exercise, and it peaked JJ's curiosity. Was he working out whilst you watched from the sofa? That would be fucking weird. There was no way you would be lifting weights with him.

JJ listened carefully, waiting for the sound of the front door to open and the start of a passive aggressive conversation between the two men before he stood up and looked in the window. If either of them caught him, that would be a lot of trouble.

He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw through the glass though.

The sound of the zip suddenly made sense, and the heavy breathing. You were there, lying in an unmade bed, stripped naked and seemingly asleep. Even unconscious your face looked so sad and your body looked tired; thin, with random bruises scattered about your limbs and dirty looking hickies on your chest.

Had you let Barry do this? Surely not. Surely you had more self respect than that.

The thought of any other man touching you was enough to make JJ feel upset, let alone a scumbag dealer that he knew you would never have any real feelings for. But then it dawned onto him - that if you hadn't wanted Barry to have sex with you, that didn't make it any better. In fact, it made it a whole lot worse.

It meant that... you'd been tricked or forced or coerced in some way. It meant that you'd been raped. And maybe you didn't even know it. Maybe you were so knocked out that you would have no idea what Barry had done. Maybe he had drugged you on purpose so that he could do it.

JJ's blood boiled, so much so that he felt himself getting physically hotter, his teeth grinding and his fists clenching. He tapped on the window, hoping to get a response from you, but you stayed stiff and still, your eyes closed and your breathing shallow.

How much had you taken? Had he given you something too strong? Did the dealer even know if you were on the boundary of never waking up? Did he care? Either way, there was no way you could've rightfully consented to doing anything sexual with anyone. Not when you were clearly out cold.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." JJ hissed to himself, trying to quickly brainstorm a way to get you out of there without getting killed by Rafe or Barry.

He pulled out his phone and went to text John B before remembering that he'd ran out of data, cursing himself for not paying his bill once again. Then he decided to creep around the back and listen in through another window, hoping that he'd overhear something to help with his plan. All that he heard didn't serve to help though, in fact it made his rage all the more fiery and his brain even less able to come up with a good idea. The desperation was becoming torturous.

"Where's Y/L/N then? I can see her ugly ass bike out the front." Rafe asked in a mocking tone.

"She's in bed, sleeping. What's it to you country club?" Barry answered.

Rafe scoffed. "I caught you mid fuck didn't I? Sorry for being a cock block bro. Can't say I'm not jealous. Bet she's a total freak in the sheets."

JJ could practically hear the smug smirk on Barry's face.

"Yeah, tits like you've never seen. And pussy like a vice grip. You wanna come take a look? She's out cold."

"You already know my answer to that, bro." Rafe chuckled.

JJ's eyes widened, a deep panic settling into his chest. You would be mortified to know that Rafe Cameron had been ogling your exposed form, let alone the potential that Barry might actually let him sleep with you. He ran back around to the other window and banged on it one more time in hopes of waking you up before quickly ducking down again just as the two men entered the room. He couldn't stay down and listen to their crass remarks this time, he couldn't bare it. He had to cause a distraction.

With a rush of inspiration, he picked up a rock and lobbed it at Rafe's truck, creating a loud thud as it dented the exterior. The two degenerates stormed outside at that and JJ heard the sound of a gun clicking.

"What the fuck was that?" Barry muttered whilst Rafe angrily proclaimed "Something dented my ride!"

"If there's anybody out there, you better come out now!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the vacant lot of overgrown swampland.

Then right on cue, the Twinkie pulled around the corner, a very confused looking John B in the drivers seat with Kie and Pope sat behind him. Rafe scoffed something bigoted about the Pogues before stamping over to the van, knocking so hard on the window that he was almost punching it. JJ would've been glad for his friends arrival if not for the pistol in Barry's hand.

"You dented my fucking car. Get the fuck out here!" Rafe demanded as Kie slid open the door, pacing at him with a scowl.

"We didn't do shit to your car. Now where the fuck is Y/N?"

"Didn't do shit? Look at the dent! You're paying for this Kie - since I know you're the only one with any money."

"I'm not paying for something I didn't do. Now tell me where my friend is. I can see her bike there and I swear to god if either of you have hurt her-"

"What are you gonna do? Huh?" Rafe cut her off with an intimidating smirk, stepping so that he was inches from her face. "You can't do shit."

Pope jumped out of the van and quickly got in between them, his nostrils flaring as he eyed the sociopath. John B quickly jumped out too, though before he could open his mouth to say anything Barry had cocked the gun and pointed it at the trio.

"Y/N ain't here. She bought her pills and wondered off into the marsh. Left her bike behind. Now if you want to find her before the gators do, you lot best be on your way."

No one moved an inch, horrified by the revelation of Barry's statement.

"And you just let her go? What is wrong with you? She could be dead!" Pope hissed, an unexpected volume to his voice.

JJ could no longer sit and silently listen knowing that his friends were about to embark on another wild goose chase. You were there, mere feet away. This was their best opportunity to do something before anything else could happen to you.

Feeling that the dealer was sufficiently distracted, JJ decided to fully open the window and climb inside, struggling slightly with the old frame as he pushed it up. Once he was in, he instantly rushed to your side, gently shaking your shoulder in an attempt to wake you up again.

"Y/N it's me. We've got to go." He whispered, only getting a groan back from you.

Your hair was splayed messily around your face like the petals of a flower, making him think to the mornings he'd spent with you in the past. How he'd woken up beside you after a night of drinking and wanted to kiss you, but held himself back in fear that you would find it weird. That you would remind him that you were only friends with the occasional benefit. That you'd laugh in his face. If only he'd known how wrong he was.

Perhaps he didn't deserve you, but if being by yourself meant that you were going to do this to yourself... he would have to fight until the end of the earth to be with you.

In that moment, he regretted so many of his past actions. From the random girls he'd kissed in front of you to his recent rejection of you, he knew that once you were safe and awake he would do anything and everything to take it all back.

You would be his. No one else's... This could never happen again. No one other than him would touch you. He wouldn't allow it.

He looked around the room in a panic, picking up your shirt from the floor and lifting your head so that he could pull it over your body. Your body weight was resisting his actions, dead and heavy, but when he found your underwear and started to pull them up your legs, you finally flinched awake - even if it was only slightly.

"No Barry. Not again." You mumbled, lifting your leg to kick him away.

"It's me - JJ. We're gonna get you out of here." He said quietly, pulling your panties up so that you were covered and then slipping his arms underneath you to hoist you up bridal style.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, your heart jumping into your throat.

"JJ?" You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"It's me baby. It's me." He repeated in a hushed tone. "You're safe now."

Then he heard the sound of the van starting outside and knew that he had to be faster. He looked around the room for a weapon and was pleased when he spotted a shotgun leant against the wardrobe, an idea springing into his head. He quickly put you back down on the bed.

"No. No. Don't leave me." You choked out, your breathing becoming rapid with panic. It broke JJ's heart to hear.

"I'll be two seconds. I promise you'll be okay." He mustered the softest tone that he could, stroking your face and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead before picking up the gun and charging out of the room.

As soon as you were out of his sight, his bubbling anger returned. No longer would he be able to put on a calm front, that time had ran out. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his skin went hot again, thinking of the vile words he'd overheard.

He pumped the gun one time, making sure it was loaded, and then slammed open the front door, quickly drawing the attention of the bickering degenerates outside. John B also quickly noticed his friend too, instantly stopping the Twinkie from reversing and jumping out again as he watched JJ in disbelief. The scene moved so quickly that none of the Pogue's were able to immediately process it.

With a cry of anger, JJ lifted the gun above his shoulder and then slammed the butt of it as hard as he could into Barry's head, knocking him out instantly. The dealer fell to the ground and dropped his own gun, and before Rafe could reach for it, JJ pressed the barrel to his chest. Rafe held his hands up in nervous surrender, though it didn't mean much.

"I should fucking kill you both!" JJ shouted. "You fucking piece of shit. You like girls when they're passed out? Huh? You like girls that can't say no?"

"Woah man. Chill. I didn't touch her." Rafe tried to calm him down, his eyes wide with fright. "It was all Barry. I just got here!"

At the realisation of what JJ had alluded to, the three other Pogues ran to join in the confrontation again. They felt sick at the idea that you might've been hurt - especially by two such unsavoury characters.

"Where is she?" Kie shouted, throwing punches into Rafe's side whilst Pope picked up Barry's pistol from the floor and kicked his body a few times.

"Inside." JJ answered through gritted teeth, staring Rafe down and struggling to not pull the trigger. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

Rafe stumbled for a moment, swallowing before he collected himself and answered confidently "I didn't even touch her. Kill me and you’re going away for life! There’s not gonna be any of my DNA on Y/N, I can promise that! I’m not into passed out chicks. That’s all Barry.”

JJ didn’t move for a second, thinking on the boys words before lowering the gun slightly. He would make him suffer another time. In that moment, Barry deserved his attention much more.

"Get the fuck out of here." JJ eventually hissed.

Rafe did exactly that, backing away quickly to his truck and speeding off. The blonde turned his attention to Barry now, who was groaning as he slowly arose from the ground. Without hesitation, JJ bent down to his level and started to throw punches, blinded by fury and bloodlust. His nose cracked first, then his cheekbone, then his eye socket. JJ didn't know how long he'd been attacking him for when he felt John B's touch on his shoulder and heard his voice in his ear. The brunette had found you in the house and lifted you into the Twinkie during JJ’s raging, stood and watched for a moment and then decided to stop his friend, worried for your welfare despite enjoying the show very much.

"Come on JJ, that's enough."

Barry's face was an unrecognisable bloody mess, but he couldn't stop.

"J, you're gonna kill him."

That didn't matter.

"We need to get Y/N out of here. Let's go!"

The sound of your name did halt him. His knuckles were bruised and his chest was panting.

"He raped her, John B. She was passed out in there and naked when I found her!" He turned to his friend with a desperate expression. "We need to kill him."

"I know, I know. But he's not worth the prison sentence, J." John B struggled to bite back his own rage but managed to do so, speaking in a soft tone as he tried to calm his friend. "We'll make him suffer, don't you worry. But right now we need to go."

The blonde boy finally nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat dizzy from the adrenaline as he stood up and made his way to the Twinkie. Once he saw you inside, your half dressed body curled up on Kie's lap as you cried, the guilt came back to him in an agonising gut punch.

"This entire thing had been practically all his fault." Was all he could think. "From the relapse to this. He'd fucked you up without even trying."

He ignored his friends shouts as he paced back to his bike and said nothing as he rode off, deciding that he would go to a bar and drink his thoughts away for the night. As John B had said; it wasn't worth getting a prison sentence for murder, but that didn't mean he couldn't find some other random people to fight.

Hiiii I hope y’all enjoyed. I might make a part 4 depending on feedback. Stay safe!!

[kittysarchive]

Enhypen hyung line- Hard doms

*toxic enhypen coming very soon!

warnings- mostly written in dot points, includes smut, dom enhypen, hard dom, sub reader, mean enhypen, teasing enhypen, cumming inside (DONTT), punishing reader

Heeseung

He doesn't have time for you antics.

He could come across cold but he just wants you to shut up.

He'll make you use a safe word, just so he knows your annoying whines or punches to let him go, are you actually enjoying yourself.

Heeseung can switch though.

He wont change from being nice but his mean attitude will change.

Instead of insulting you or getting tired of your squirming he can be a mean tease.

Going extra slow

Mocking you

Only caring about his own pleasure....

"Fuck stop squirming" Heeseung huffs, gripping your hips, pushing them deeper into the mattress. You mewl at being manhandled.

"You like that huh? you dirty slut" He laughs, pulling his hips back to brutally thrust back into you. You cry out at the insult, but even yourself couldn't stop clenching around his cock. He emits another laugh, as his sends a hard thrust back into you.

"My fucking slut, that's what you are" He loosens his grip on your hips as he finishes inside you.

Jay

He's not too different from Heeseung

Except the fact, he more scolds you then teases you

He's annoyed, lets just say

Whether you had been teasing him all day

Giving him some attitude or going behind his back to hang out somewhere he doesn't like or talk to someone he doesn't like...

All these will end up with you on the bed, head down ass up

You don't complain though

It hurts yeah but maybe, this is what you wanted from the start of the day

And Jay isn't dumb

Thats why he scolds you and sometimes insults

Cos why did you have to be a brat?

He would have given you something, but now your getting this

"Little brat is what you are" Jay growles behind you, gripping your ass tightly and spreading your cheeks open. His cock was already deep up against your plush walls, but he knew he could go deeper. Your whimper is drowned out into the blankets.

"You don't want this anymore? This is all you fucking beg for" He pushes his cock roughly into you. You can feel his balls tickle your cunt.

"Take it all baby" Jay groans, pulling back before thrusting into you again, soon he'd have you on your back, and start all over again.

Jake

A little less brutal then the others but he does affect you with his words

Making you feel smaller then him

Making you feel worthless

Making you submit to him because how dare you be a brat and give him attitude

Of course this is all your fault, he's just fucking some sense into you

'your to rough' that's how he needs to be with you he thinks t himself, and he believes himself.

"You won't do it again right? I know you won't you whore" You whimper at the insult, mouth stuffed off his cocked, you couldn't bite back a response.

"You look better like this anyway, beneath me" Jake laughs to himself, leaning back on his elbows, enjoying you struggle to take all of him. Even with the tears pricking your eyes and the gags that bring you close to throwing up, he won't let you take a break, otherwise how else will you learn.

Sitting up straight, he roughly holds your head, pushing you till your nose was touching his pubic hairs. Feeling a wave of nausea as you feel his cock slide down your throat, you suppress it. This was where you were meant to be.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon enjoys when you make a fool of yourself

Making you beg

Making you cry

Making you gag over his cock

Even making you cum early and apologise

He loves it all

Even if you have done nothing wrong, that's just how he is in bed.

Because if you did do something wrong, why would he fuck you? It brings you pleasure

He'd rather jerk off in front of you

Or make you deep throat him

Anything that gives him pleasure and avoids you of any

"Please.....I'm sorry....Sorry for being a brat" You sob in front off him. After giving him a head, not only did you have his cum on his lips, but his cock was still hard.

"You think this is what I want to hear from your right now?' Sunghoon snaps at you, holding you hair tightly and pushing your head towards his cock again.

"Fucking suck" You take a breath before taking him into his mouth. Maybe just maybe later tonight h'' wake you and let you cum...maybe just maybe.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Prologue (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice upon the next upload. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 2k+

Prologue

Present Day ~ Friday, 10:23 PM

It was happening again. There was nothing you could do to stop it. No amount of shame or fear could keep you from hiding in the bathroom at 10:23 PM, your thumb hovering over the open message icon on your phone. You knew who it was, the person you desperately craved.

The sender's name was your best friend and coworker, Yuna.

You always talked to Yuna; sometimes you even stayed with her after work was over in the affluent area of Tokyo, Roppongi Hills. There were even the rare times you'd stay overnight after work because you felt like you couldn't see each other long enough. At least, it's who your fiancé thought you were talking to and seeing. If he ever found out otherwise, well, you weren't sure you even wanted to think about what might happen.

Toji would get annoyed at you for wanting to talk so much with one of your friends, and he always demanded to know what you two did or talked about all the time, which you offered very detailed lies in response to his questions. It's not like you came to these decisions lightly. You stuck it out faithfully for almost seven years before giving up and needing someone else to make you feel like a beautiful and worthy woman again. To know someone else could appreciate you and offer excitement in your life. To not hit or yell at for everything was a huge plus also. Even if it was only temporary. Even if they didn't care about you in the same way you cared for them, you still needed whatever you could get.

Listening carefully in the silence of the night, you could still hear Toji snoring from your tiny, shared bed down the hall, and finally, your shaking thumb pressed onto the screen, closing your eyes as you felt the little bzzt of the message opening.

Swallowing tightly before accepting the message visually, you peeked an eye open and felt your face flush with a tingling heat that traveled down into your core, making your thighs squeeze together tightly as you sat on the edge of the tub, breath hitching at the photo and caption that now had you uncontrollably mesmerized.

Clicking the lock button on the side of your phone you dropped it down onto the soft rug below, your shaking hands now covering your face before going through your hair and you let out a long quiet breath.

Your heart pounded with the image in your mind, and what usually happened after you got one of these messages, there was no stopping it, and you hoped it never would.

Finally calming your nerves at the moment, you picked your phone back up, only to have that heated chill drop to your stomach again as there was another message to open now. Biting your lip, you opened it and at this point, you could nearly hear your own elevated heartbeat.

-"Aren't you going to answer me, doll? I know you're still awake."-

You covered your mouth with your free hand to try and quiet the excited breaths escaping your mouth, scrolling up slowly to review the previous message.

-"I know it's late, and to be honest, I really don't care. I want you here, need you beneath me in my bed where you know you belong. Letting a real man fuck you. You know he can't make you feel like I can." Photo attached: It was of that enormous bulge desperately trying to push through dark sweatpants that were loosely tied at the hip, shirt lifted and held up by sharp canines to show off that ridiculously built body, and sinful black tattoos that hugged the skin.-

Damn him. A quiet whine churned in your throat as your thighs clenched together more tightly in that shameful desire. He was right though. Toji could never fuck you as good as Sukuna. It was so embarrassing. Embarrassing how easy it was for Sukuna to turn you completely limp in his arms, and how quickly you'd lose yourself beneath him. Embarrassing because of how loud and lewd your moans were. Embarrassing because of how much you wanted this arrogant playboy.

Knowing another message would come through if you didn't reply, you quickly responded with the only thing you could think of at the moment, being so flustered and already getting dumb over dick through a teasing photo. -"I still have that report I have to finish this weekend, I don't think you'd be too happy if I don't complete it by Monday, Sukuna."-

As soon as you sent the message, it was as if there was an answer already waiting, and your phone almost immediately vibrated in response. -"Just stay the whole weekend with me, I don't even care anymore at this point. You can finish that here after I'm finished with you. I've already transferred the train ticket vouchers to you. The last one leaves at 10:51 pm. I'll pick you up at the station when you arrive. Just don't keep me waiting, my pretty, little thing."-

Running a hand over your forehead that felt a bit damp from nervousness, you shoved your phone into your pocket and let out a quiet but heavy breath. Having an affair with your boss was undoubtedly making you the happiest you've felt in years, but still, at the same time, it made you so frightened and ashamed. Especially since it felt like you were getting more attached to him, though you knew Sukuna wasn't looking for a serious relationship of any kind. He had made that perfectly clear. Painfully clear. You weren't the only woman in his life that he entertained, and you knew you wouldn't be the last. You were just fortunate to have his attention, for now.

He certainly knew how to make you feel like the only woman in the world though, despite knowing you were just sharing him. At least he kept his wandering eyes and flirtatious comments under check when the two of you were spending time together. Meanwhile, Toji acted like the biggest flirt in the world with every woman he encountered, even with you at his side.

Toji could be so gentle and loving when he wanted to be, but it never lasted long, and it was only when he was rewarding you for properly behaving. There'd always be something to set him off or some woman nearby he couldn't keep his eyes off of. You were certain he had been sleeping with other women for years, the way he acted around some of them proved it. Despite your supsicions, you had stayed faithful and loyal. Even through the beatings and constant derogatory things he called you. You weren't sure if it was because you had morals, or because you were terrified of him.

So long as you were obedient like a trained dog, Toji wouldn't hurt you. Mentally or physically. Most of the time you were too frightened to fall out of line, knowing how easily he could knock you out, or break an arm; something he's done before in a fit of drunken rage. He definitely scared the shit out of you, and cheating or lying like this was enough to make you shake in fear for your safety.

But, Sukuna never asked you to officially stay for several days like this at his own home. Sure, you've taken work trips together, but even though you gave yourself to Sukuna in any way he wanted, most of those were strictly professional and work related. So, as terrified as you were of your fiancé finding out, you couldn't pass up this type of opportunity. Maybe Sukuna was getting more attached to you as well? 

"I have no desire for a relationship of any kind beyond this. Don't get any hopes or ideas, I simply enjoy what we have, and it wont ever change."

Doubtful.

Even knowing his attitude towards your relationship, it wasn't always easy to keep your mind free of hopeful thoughts, unfortunately. The way he'd hold you so close or kiss you so gently at times brought such confusion it hurt almost worse than any slap from Toji.

You carefully snuck out of the apartment, praying to god that Toji wouldn't hear you. You'd have to come up with some lie at some point, but for now, you just wanted to see the man you desperately longed for. The train station was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment, so it was a quick walk down the road. Approaching the kiosk to pick up your tickets, you held the voucher barcode on your phone underneath the scanner and it printed out a set of tickets for you to board the train. 

Knowing the ride would be a little time-consuming, roughly over an hour, you stared aimlessly out the window for most of the trip, your leg bouncing in anticipation. You tried not to think of all the shameful things you were going to let this beast of a man do to you through the rest of the night, and how you craved every bit of it. It was the only time you didn't have to think or worry, you could just let Sukuna use you as he wanted. 

Nearing the destination, you clicked on Yuna's name in your contacts and took a quick selfie, angling the camera so your pushed-up boobs were clearly visible as well. Before Sukuna, you could never feel confident enough to take such pictures. Even when Toji demanded some risqué photos, you couldn't feel comfortable doing so. Sending them to Sukuna was exciting, however. Being satisfied after a few images, you attached a message, -"I'm coming. ❤"-

-"Yeah, you'll be screaming that soon enough."- he replied nearly instantly.

God, you could hear his cocky chuckle through the text. -"Please, 'cause I seriously need it. This whole week was awful."- You type out, still feeling the throbbing, dull pain in your side where Toji jammed his fist into your ribs for talking back to him. -"Yeah? Well, glad I had you come over then. I'll make sure to fuck all of the stress out of you."-

He sent another photo and you nearly dropped your phone once it popped up on the screen as you weren't expecting to see his large hand tightly wrapped around his hardened cock. You let out a near silent yet audible whimper as your eyes fixated on it. A shudder traveled through your body as you recalled how amazing he could make you feel.

You were just grateful Sukuna asked you to come over tonight, and it not be mainly for work, considering you and Toji had another fight about his past financial problems that somehow became your main responsibility to fix. At the time of your engagement when you were young, dumb, and in love, you had agreed to put all of his bills in your name and his credit debt as soon as possible so he could catch a break and start rebuilding his finances and you'd be able to help with the payments then.

Of course, through some miscommunication, you were responsible for ALL the payments now, and you couldn't keep up. To make it worse, he kept taking out new loans for who knows what and it seriously terrified you. Loan sharks were nothing to mess with. They'd give you anything you want, but if you didn't pay it back, they weren't afraid to get rough for their money. No point in calling the cops either, cause the cops were scared of them half the time too.

Seeing the city lights get closer, you let out a deep breath of suspense, knowing within the next few moments or so you'd be getting fucked stupid in one of the very expensive, luxury penthouses of the seductively, dominant man you met only a few months ago.

You knew the moment you had literally run into him while rushing down the sidewalk, causing his hot morning coffee to spill onto you and all over his expensive suit that things were going to change in your life, even if just for a little while.

End Prologue

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

I'll do my absolute best to keep this story updated, unlike before. I promise!

[cha-melodius]

6. The “I forgive you” hug (for rwrb, if you haven’t gotten this one yet)

(Ooh, an unusual request! There are so many ways this could have gone; I hope you enjoy what I came up with. read all the hug ficlets)

6: The “I forgive you” hug

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Henry asks, having finally managed to corner Alex alone by the cake, midway through their friends’ wedding reception.

Alex rolls his eyes, not in that teasing way he used to but decidedly exasperated, which is as much a sign that something’s wrong as all the rest of his behaviour. “Nothing’s going on,” he huffs, pretending like he’s suddenly fascinated by sugar flowers.

“You’ve been acting like a right arsehole all night. To Jeff, and to me,” Henry says bluntly. He’s never seen Alex be as rude as he’s been to Henry’s date. Maybe he and Alex haven’t stayed in touch as much lately, but they were close friends once. Honest with each other. Ok, perhaps Henry had kept one secret, but that’s beside the point. “Something’s clearly wrong, and I think you should just say it.”

“It’s nothing,” Alex grunts.

He starts trying to walk away, but Henry’s not done with this discussion; he reaches out to grab Alex’s arm, only to for his grip to get shaken off. The movement causes Alex to lurch to the side and he bumps into the cake table, which wobbles once, precariously, before stabilising.

Alex lets out a heavy sigh of relief, and Henry takes advantage of his distraction to grab his arm, more firmly this time, and haul him out into the corridor.

“Stop saying it’s nothing,” Henry snaps. They’re standing closer now, their noses no more than a handful of centimetres apart, and Alex glares up at him. “I know you, and this isn’t who you are.”

“Maybe it is now,” Alex retorts defiantly, but there are cracks forming in his façade. His lower lip, stuck out along with his set jaw, wobbles.

“Please, Alex,” Henry says, his voice softening before he means to let it. He’s never been able to stay mad at Alex for that long. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Alex’s expression crumples, and he drops his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, H. I was frustrated at myself, and I took it out on you guys. You didn’t deserve that.”

Henry doesn’t hesitate before he pulls Alex into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Alex’s shoulders as Alex tucks his head partly under Henry’s chin. “It’s forgiven,” he says, half into Alex’s curls. “It’s just… I missed you, and it hurt when you pushed me away like that.”

“I missed you too,” Alex sniffles into Henry’s shoulder. After another breath, he carefully extracts himself and smooths the front of his jacket down. “I saw you after all this time, and I think I was so fucking overwhelmed by regret that I temporarily lost my mind.”

“What do you mean, regret?” Henry asks, though he assumes Alex means not keeping in touch as much as they should have—Henry certainly has plenty of regrets about that.

But Alex just smiles a little ruefully and shakes his head. “Mostly regret that I didn’t figure out I was bisexual until after college.”

Henry blinks at him. “What?”

“I mean, I had such a big, fat crush on you, and I didn’t even realise what it was until literal years later. How embarrassing is that?”

He says it with a laugh and an alluring dusty pink tinge on his cheeks, like he hasn’t just turned Henry’s entire life upside down.

“But—” Henry starts, only to falter. “But you’ve got a partner now, too.”

“Who, Nora?” Alex frowns at him. “I could have sworn I told you she’s my sister’s wife. She’s just here because I didn’t want to come alone. That, and the free cake.”

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

Alex’s mouth tips wryly. “Nope. Sadly single.”

Henry doesn’t think—he crosses the few steps between them, puts both of his hands on Alex’s face, and pulls him into a kiss. Alex responds almost instantaneously, like he can’t help it, and their lips slide together for a few blissful moments before he tears himself out of it, his eyes wide.

“Wait— what about Jeff?”

“We’ve been on three dates and I don’t even like him that much,” Henry confesses. “I didn’t want to come alone either.”

“So you—”

“Have been in love with you since our first year? Yes,” Henry finishes, unwilling to waste any more time.

Alex’s smile is impossibly brilliant when Henry pulls him into another kiss.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 10, A Saturday well spend

Masterlist Word count: 2.8 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Yes, I HC Simone as a lesbian. Fight me.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Zayne watches you intently at the breakfast table. He can tell you're nervous to see what mindset Sylus will be in when he gets here, but he's proud of you for insisting on him joining or you going home. With past boyfriends you had never cared this much. It was never because you didn't like or love them, more so because they did not care the same way about you, and you were tired of giving them everything while getting nothing back. 

That being said, he doesn't like that you're just poking around at your breakfast without taking a single bite. They've got a full day ahead and with Sylus joining them, it may become emotionally exhausting. That's not a problem of course, but you should eat. 

'Please eat,' he mumbles. You look up from the table with wide eyes, just now snapping back to reality. Thoughts had been flooding your mind. Everything that could've happened to Sylus runs around your head all at once. You are terrified of what you might see when he gets here. 'I know it's nerve-wracking to sit here and wait, but you need to eat. We've got a long day ahead of us.' 

'You're right.' Of course he's right. He's always right. You finally take a bite. The food is absolutely delicious as it always is when you let Zayne choose the hotel. For a second he revels in your satisfied expression before turning back to his own meal. 

'How do you want to do this?' 

'Hm?' 

'Do you want to take Sylus along for everything or do you want to chance the schedule?' 

'Let's just keep to the schedule. I really had to fight him on coming here so I think the last thing he would want is to feel like he's keeping me from doing what I want,' you explain to Zayne, who nods along with your words. 

'Sounds like a plan.' He gets up from his seat and you notice he's already done eating. 'If you're okay with it, I'm going make a reservation for a restaurant.' You nod. He's got a point. Most places can usually squeeze in two people but three becomes a crowd. 'Make sure you finish your breakfast. Doctor's orders.' Your lips pull into a smile for the first time today as you nod in agreement once more. 

'Thank you, Zayne. For understanding.' 

'Of course.' He walks off, heading back to the room while you finish munching on your breakfast and staring out the window. Your phone is next to your plate and you've been waiting for Sylus to send an update on his whereabouts. He was texting you very early this morning that he couldn't sleep so that he would just head out so he could be there in the morning. He could be arriving at any moment. 

That's when you hear the rumbling of a motorcycle outside. Excited, you quickly shove your breakfast into your mouth and run towards the lobby where you wait for him to park his bike and head inside. It just takes a few minutes before he come sauntering in wearing his motorcycle gear, his helmet swinging in his hand, saddlebags thrown over his shoulder. You almost have to take a moment to compose yourself. Your man looks so handsome. 

'Sylus,' you call. He looks over and smiles, seemingly shedding all his worries the second he sees you. You run over to him and hug his waist. His free arm wraps around you and you feel his lips on top of your head. 

'Thank you,' he whispers as you feel his body soften underneath your touch. Whatever happened must've shaking him up quite a bit for him to be so tense. You decide against asking about it for now. 

'Come on, let me show you our room.' You take his hand and start dragging him towards the elevators. 

'Our room? I thought you would be sharing a room with Doctor Zayne?' 

'No, Zayne likes his privacy, so we get separate rooms.' 

'I like the sound of that,' he teases, shaking your hand off and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 'And Doctor Zayne is truly alright with all this?' You nod enthusiastically as you press the button to the sixth floor. He smiles ever so slightly and leans down to press a kiss on your lips. 'You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me.' 

'Sylus, you are wonderful. You deserve everything good that comes your way.' 

'You are too kind, sweetie.' The elevator dings at your floor. 

'I am,' you agree. 'Come on, let's drop your stuff off and tell Zayne that you're here.' He stiffens up a little bit again but does let himself be led by you. You notice his hesitation and stop in your tracks. 'Sylus, I don't know what your history is with Zayne but you should know that he takes patient confidentiality very seriously if it has anything to do with that. He hasn't told me anything nor will he ever tell me anything that goes on inside hospital walls.' 

That seems to do it and he follows you inside the room. 'This is nice,' he notes as he drops his things and looks around the room. 

'Oh, you know, maybe get changed first. We're going on a hike in a bit. I'll go tell Zayne you're here.' You almost rush out of the room again but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest like you're light as a feather. His eyes look at you so intensely, so full of love. 

'Let me just hold you for a second.' You give him your consent by wrapping your arms around his waist once more and holding him as close as you physically can while resting your head against his chest. You feel him lean his head on top of yours as his breathing slowly becomes steadier and his heartbeat slows down as he slowly sways with you. 'Thank you.' 

'You already said that.' 

'I know.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The only thing you did not account for when inviting Sylus along is that you are now not on a trip with one tall man, but with two. The hike feels like a run, walking around town feels like a hike, and your neck fucking hurts. But at least your two favorite people are getting along great. 

You groan as the three of you finally sit down at the restaurant. Your legs are tingling from all the walking and running. The two men sit across from each other, and you sit at the head of the small table. Zayne picked a fairly nice restaurant but nothing to intimidating. It's something that you would have picked too. 

'Doctor Zayne, I want to thank you again for letting me come along,' Sylus says as if he hasn't said it at least five times today. Zayne shakes his head with a laugh. 

'Please, just call me Zayne.' 

'Sorry. Hard to get it out of my system.' He looks over at you, sitting there with a self-satisfied grin while looking at them interact. 'You're enjoying yourself.' 

'It's hard not to. My two favorite men get along. That's something to enjoy,' you tell him. He huffs a laugh in response. Zayne chuckles and pats Sylus hand. 

'I'm glad I finally have someone to take her off my hands.' 

'Hey, don't say it like that. I am lovely,' you playfully argue as you gently nudge Zayne's shoulder. Sylus can't help but stare at you with a lovesick look on his face. He just loves watching you, loves seeing you happy, loves you. Despite all of that, there's a stinging in his chest. His situation changed yesterday, which might mean changing the relationship you have with each other. He'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts. 

'It's no trouble,' he replies to Zayne's joke, 'I'd gladly take her off your hands any time.' 

'You two need to stop talking about me like I'm a burden,' you warn with a teasing grin. You quickly notice the mischievous glint in Sylus eyes as he leans his elbows on the table and folds his hands together, pretending to exclude you from the conversation. 

'Say, Zayne, how did you deal with her constantly being at your door?' 

'Excuse me,' you exclaim, pretending to be offended. 

'Oh, I was barely home because of work so she was barely at my door. The texts though,' Zayne goes along with the joke, a small smile playing on his lips. 

'Rude,' you huff. 

'See, the texts I can handle. It's the constant knocking.' 

'I don't knock at your door all the time.' 

'Well, it's your problem now.' 

'You guys are being mean. How about I leave you on your date and I'll go home,' you suggest, keeping up the offended act as you pretend to get up. Sylus quickly grabs your wrist as you are standing and pulls you down far enough to press a quick kiss on your lips. 

'I'd never betray you for some man,' he whispers to you. It's a joke, all of it is still a joke, but the words come out so sincere. You sit back down with a pretend pout and cross your arms. 'Alright, what will it take for you to smile again?' 

'Nothing. I'm never smiling again.' 

'You sure?' You notice his hand inching closer to your stomach. He is going to try and tickle you. 

'Woah, no, stop, don't do it. I'll smile. Look, big smile.' You pull the biggest smile on your face. Zayne chuckles as Sylus grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. 

'I prefer you like this,' he whispers, hoping that Zayne can't hear it. He can and he is truly happy for you and Sylus. He's almost gleaming seeing that you have found someone that truly loves you and that Sylus has found someone to love him unconditionally. It's perfect. 

'Hi, my name is Simone. I'll be your server. Did we know what we want to drink yet?' All three of you look up at the waitress a little dumbfounded. Well, except for Zayne. He's the only one who's been looking over the menu. 

'A bottle of still water for the table please. She'll have a glass of vermentino. What do you want Sylus?' You notice the way the waitress is looking between the two men you are with and then at you. She's very pretty and you trust Sylus, but you really don't feel like seeing him get flirted with all night. While Sylus quickly glances over the menu, you take his hand that was laying on the table. 

'Do you want to share a bottle of wine, Sylus?' He leans towards you so the waitress can't hear your little conversation. 

'Sweetie, you are drunk after three glasses of wine, besides I prefer red,' he says with a grin. Clearly he has noticed the way the waitress was looking at him and your slightly possessive nature. It feels like a whirlpool of mixed emotions in his stomach. He remembers how possessive his ex used to be and he knows you're not like that, at the same time he kind of likes it when you do it. He has to remind himself that it's a completely different situation. 'And I only have eyes for you.' He turns back to the waitress. 'I'll have a glass of the Hacienda Monasterio.' 

'I'm sorry, that wine only goes by the bottle.' 

'Can we take the bottle if we don't finish it?' 

'Yes, but I do have to note it's an expensi-' 

'Then it's not a problem.' You try to glance at the wine list to see the price, but he returns it to the waitress before you can see. 

'Alright, I'll go get those drinks and I'll take your food order when I come back.' The waitress almost turns, but decides she has one more thing to say. 'Also, I saw you get a bit uncomfortable so I feel the need to say this,’ she says as she looks at you with a kind smile, 'I am a lesbian.' 

Zayne almost bursts out in laughter, Sylus puts his hand in front of his mouth to hide his smile, and you just sit there catching flies with your mouth. Zayne pinches your thigh to snap you out of it and you quickly apologize. 'I am so sorry. It's just-' 

'No, no, I get it,' Simone says with a smile, 'he's very attractive, as are you. I was just trying to figure out if you were friends or a polycule.' Sylus can't hold it anymore. He tries to bite down on his teeth to keep his laughter from coming out but it fails terribly, as is Zayne. You don't quite know what to say but you suddenly really like this waitress, and you will be flirting with her to tease Sylus. 

'We are not a polycule. He is my boyfriend and that is my best friend,' you explain. She nods and bites her lip a little. 'Why? Were you hoping there was space for one more.' 

She chuckles, seeing where you're going with your joke. Teasingly, she brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. 'I mean.' The two of you burst out laughing together at the dumbfounded faces of the men at the table. 'Okay, okay, I'm getting those drinks because I might die of laughter if I stay here.' 

'Thank you Simone.' You turn to Sylus, who now looks a little conflicted. 'What?' 

'Are you also into women?' 

'Why do you ask?' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Sylus paid for the whole dinner as a thank you to Zayne for allowing him to come along. Also, he did not want either of you to pay for an expensive bottle of wine he planned to finish at home.  

When you came back to the hotel, you had a long talk about sexuality and boundaries in the bathroom while you shower and he brushes his teeth and does his skincare. Normally, Sylus and you shower together. That's what you have been doing for the past few weeks at least but today feels different. There's a distance between you two that you can't quite put your finger on. You figure it has something to do with what happened to him yesterday, but he won't tell you anything. 

As you sit on the bed dressed in one of Sylus’ shirts that you stole recently, reading your book, you listen to the shower turn off. You wonder if he'll feel comfortable sleeping with you in one bed if he doesn't feel comfortable taking a shower with you. It's almost as if you're meeting him for the first time all over again. 

The words on the page you're reading don't seem to come through in your mind. You keep rereading the same passage, trying to keep your mind on the page. It doesn't help. Thoughts are racing through your mind faster than you can keep up with. Worst case scenarios keep popping up and you have to convince yourself he'd tell you if it came to that. 

Not that it works. He has barely told you anything about his past, nor why he had a panic attack a few months back. It seems he keeps his secrets close to his chest where they can only hurt him, but he should know by now that nothing could make you run away. 

The bathroom door unlocks and Sylus steps out. He's only wearing boxers and is lazily drying his hair with a towel. For a second, he stops in his tracks when he sees you in his shirt and you notice the slightest twitch of his lips into a smile. 

You close your book as he throws the towel in a corner and approaches the bed. The worries you had melt away when he slips under the covers with you and pulls you into him. His arms wrap around you like you're his safety blanket and his head is against your shoulder. You instinctively start scratching his head with your one hand and put the other on his skin as your legs slot between his. 

It takes mere seconds for his breathing to slow down. He must've been exhausted. He did tell you he couldn't sleep last night but he didn't let it be known that he was tired all day. 

'Sylus?' He hums in response, the rumble going through his chest. 'You know there is nothing you could tell me that would scare me away, right?' He doesn't respond, but his arms tighten around you. 'I love you.' 

It's the first time you've said it and you've been scared to do so. The last person you told you loved them thoroughly explained that they didn't love you back, so not hearing him say something right away is nerve-wracking. Sylus looks up at you and presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, pulling you impossibly close as if he wants to absorb you into his very being. 

'I love you too.' 

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[sageivy11]

no better than a dog

Price/Ghost/Puppy hybrid!reader

warnings/contains: puppy hybrid reader (only ears and tail), smut, slight dub-con (considering reader is a hybrid), fingering (r!receiving), afab reader, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight dirty talk, light dom!price, voyeurism, Ghost takes a backseat while Price does all the work, age gap (reader is young 20s, Ghost late 20s, Price early 30s), daddy kink

introduction: first time posting on tumblr EVER. little nervous 😓 i haven’t written in forever but randomly got inspired to write this since it’s been in my head and i couldn’t find it anywhere. i have no idea how space things or how to correctly align things sooo idk how this will come out. 2.6k words. writing tips and tumblr tips appreciated please. sortve proof read and written on my phone so… good luck!

A door creaking open accompanied by a giggle breaks the silence of Price’s focus on the television. He stiffens his posture slightly and turns his head towards the door of the 141’s private common room. He’s greeted by the sight of you stumbling into the room, tail wagging behind you as Ghost follows after.

You pant as you clamber onto the couch on your palms and knees, breathless giggles in the air as you plop right into his lap. Horizontal, stomach across his two thighs. A ploy for protection from the older man. He’d noticed a speck of dirt on your flushed cheeks as you filed in, as well as Ghost looking exhausted even with his mask still on. You’d come from some sort of drills with the way your clothes are uniform and not casual.

Ghost doesn’t even bother trying to snatch you up from Price, instead heavily slumping into one of the chairs opposite the couch he was sitting on. Price doesn’t need a single word from Ghost to figure out he’s not in the mood for whatever you’re up to. Still, he can’t help the way his lip turns up a little at the ends. He rests a hand on your back, amused as he smoothes down the back of your shirt. “What’ve you been up to, hm?”

“Nothing, Daddy-” you start with a falsely innocent tone, only to be interrupted by Ghost. “Bein’ a damn pest, she is.”

“Not true,” You pout a little from your perch, but only Ghost can see it. It’s mostly light-hearted, as you knew you couldn’t get away with a successful lie around them. Not that you tried.

“Having trouble wrangling the beast again, are you?” Price asks, smirking as he glances up towards Ghost from behind your wagging tail.

“Wouldn’t be so hard if she just listened,” he grunts, scowl still directed towards you. Price chuckles, his hand absently petting over your lower back and bottom. His palm is large and firm against your skin. You shift to snuggle in a little, tail swishing as you fold your arms underneath your head like a pillow.

“Been naughty, ‘ave you?” He asks, bringing his free hand up to your hair and lightly scratching behind your left ear. You hum from the pleasure, wriggling slightly in his lap. “No.” you assert confidently. As if there was no possible way Price would believe Ghost over you. You were his precious little thing.

Price just barely catches the roll of Ghost’s eyes as he scoffs. “Yeah, you were just a fuckin’ peach running a muck during your drills, weren’t you?” Your eyes narrow at him and you huff.

Ghost swears he’s never seen a more smug smile on Price’s face. “Oh, what could my precious girl have done to ruin your day?” He asks, sarcasm and amusement dripping in his tone just to watch your tail wag.

“Nothing-” you pipe up in a whiny tone, which Ghost interrupts with a “Quiet. Don’t get to complain when you’ve been practically biting at my heels all day. Must’ve just slipped your pretty little head all the times you’ve run from me when I told you to stay, huh? Hiding in the bloody equipment room, trying to snatch candy from a diabetic just because you’re curious.” he growls. Price laughs at the absurdity of it all.

“I didn’t know,” You pout at the last part, a frown on your lips. It’s true. You didn’t. And who can expect a puppy to not accept the opportunity of abandoned candy? You were practically salivating at the idea, but Ghost had your wrist in a tight, cold grip under his gloved fingers before you could even take a step toward it. Damn him and his ability to always be able to read your mind.

“Seems a bit of a punishment is in order, is it?” Price asks, his gaze shifting towards Ghost with a particular excitement in his eyes. Ghost pauses before he responds, trying to read the expression in his eyes. “Askin’ for a spankin’ with her arse up in your lap like that f’you ask me,” he utters. Quiet, as if it was just an afterthought and not a clear insight into his mind at the moment.

Price sees this, and recognizes it. He could let you get away with it, only frustrating Ghost more. He could spank you right here, humiliate you in a way that might bridge a gap between the three of you. Or, he could turn that anger, that deeply hidden and buried secret of Ghost’s arousal towards you into something more. Something tangible.

He sighs, the hand in your hair gripping the strands and gently pulling until your head is craned back. Your lips pop open as if to say something about the awkward angle your neck is now at, but you pause at the expression on his face. Your eyes flutter over his face. A pinch between his eyebrows, an interested gaze in his eyes, and a faux frown on his lips. Price starts talking before you can gather your thoughts and pipe up.

“Seems like Ghost won’t be satisfied until you get a punishment. And you’ll take it like a good girl for Daddy, won’t you?”

You practically melt at his syrupy, smooth tone. He’s playing right into that deep-seated need for some type of authority figure. Someone gentle. Someone firm. Someone that told you what to do when you needed it. Daddy.

You nod absently. Lips still parted, eyelashes fluttering over your cheeks. You hadn’t gotten a single punishment while under the 141’s guidance. Scoldings, sure. Now, you weren’t a star pupil. But at your heart, you were a good girl. Puppies can’t be perfect all the time, can they? You didn’t know what their punishments entailed, but you were pretty sure you trusted John enough at this point that you weren’t afraid.

John smirks at your expression, already looking like you’ve fallen under some sort of spell. It looked more like a smile to you. “Yeah, you’ll be alright. You’ll take it nice and well for me, won’t you?” He asks, releasing your head to fall back down into your arms.

“Mhm,” you nod. His hand previously on your lower back slides down to your ass. Giving a quick squeeze to one cheek before his other joins him to tug at your waistband and pat your bottom. “Up,” he mumbles.

You raise onto your hands and knees after only a slight pause. Was he seriously going to spank you? No, surely Daddy wouldn’t hurt you.

Ghost watches in interest as Price tugs your pants down to the crook of your knees, then fully off and beside his hip on the couch after some wiggling. Especially careful as he pulls your fluffy tail from its assigned hole in the garment. You settle back down onto your stomach after he instructs you to do so. His hand, all big and warm and familiar now, reaches for the band of your underwear.

He’s slow as he just glides his calloused fingers along the band for a moment, giving you more than enough time to voice any discomfort. You don’t, curious.

Price was a bit concerned when you first showed up at your complete disregard for personal privacy. They all were. But over time, he’d come to like it. Did he recognize it was a little selfish? Yes. Would he also take advantage of it? Yes.

He tucks his thumb under the elastic and tugs them down over the swell of your bottom. A deep-chested groan is pulled from his chest as he sees the white, sticky substance stringing from your leaky hole to the gusset of the underwear. “Fuck,” He breathes, leaving the underwear to snap back to your thighs as he shifts your tail aside to slide a thumb between the sticky mess, pulling a lip to the side to see your twitching, thoroughly used entrance.

Ghost’s jaw clenches, his gaze growing more heated. He ignores the stirring between his legs, urging off his erection. Every time he blinks he’s harassed with the image of you earlier this morning. Bent over the common room kitchen counter, shorts pushed down to pool at your bare feet. Shirt pushed up to your collarbones. Gaz flush against your back, cock gliding in and out of your sopping hole. His boxers at the floor. Your head turned over your shoulder for a filthy connection between lips.

It wasn’t just the two of you, either. Soap was in front of you both, separated only by the opposite edge of the counter. He was leaning forward, lips sealed around one of your nipples. Your other breast was accompanied by Gaz’s groping hand. His other hand? On Soap’s flushed cock. Soap’s pants were pushed down to his knees, one hand guiding Gaz’s on his cock. The other is between your legs to rub you even more quickly to completion. The dirty noises and moans will never leave his mind.

Price’s voice is the only thing to disrupt his train of thought. “Who had you today, baby?” His voice is a little deeper like arousal had punched him in the chest.

“Um.. Kyle.” You mumble, cheeks a little warm against your arms. You would’ve forgotten all about it if it weren’t for the fact you’d been dripping with Gaz’s spend for the past couple of hours. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap had recently gone on an assignment, leaving you alone with Price. You were a little sad, but you’d only been with them for a few weeks, and Price was probably your favorite anyway.

After going straight to bed, exhausted, you three had an interesting reunion in the kitchen. You didn’t mind. Maybe it was the animal traits bleeding through into you, but you were wet all the time. Not sexually satisfied until multiple orgasms. Crazy stamina. Good thing you had four soldier boys to help out with that, right? Well, three. You wouldn’t count Ghost since he’d barely touched you after the first time. You shiver at the thought.

You’re brought back to the moment by Ghost’s gruff voice. “And Soap.” You guess Soap counted too. But you didn’t think so, since he didn’t fuck you. What Ghost has taught you though, is whatever he says, goes.

Price is distracted by the absolutely delicious sight of your soaked mound. Barely listening. Only roused to respond when he hears you whimper as he runs a gentle thumb down your slit, brushing against your sore hole and sensitive clit. He’s almost jealous of Gaz. No, he knows he is. “Yeah?” He responds to Ghost, looking down to you for confirmation.

“I guess… sorta.”

“Specifics, love.”

“Well, only Kyle.. f-fucked me. But Soap was there too.” you concede, the curse coming out a little naturally. Swearing was strictly forbidden back at the facility. The guys had told you multiple times that you could say whatever you wanted, but it still didn’t feel right.

“That it? Only there?” He continues to question as he slowly pushes his thumb inside of you, cursing under his breath as the white, creamy liquid slowly gushes out around his digit. You whine and dig into your lower lip with your upper canines. You were still sensitive after Gaz.

“N-No. He was- mmph, Gaz was touching him. And he was touching me.” You stumble over your words a little as he pumps his thumb in and out gently. “A-Aren’t you supposed to be punishing me, Daddy?”

He chuckles breathlessly, slowly pulling his thumb out to watch your entrance contract. He drags his thumb down to brush over your clit. Your hips jerk, thighs tensing. “We’re getting there. Eager?”

“No.” You shake your head, burying your face in your arms. “Maybe. I don’t know.” You were a little unsure as to what he was getting at, and that would be your main point of anxiety. He must sense this because he continues the gentle petting on the back of your head.

“You’re alright, love. You know Daddy will be gentle with you. Hm?” He soothes as he lightly pets over your clit with his thumb. You twitch before you nod. His fingers slip inside of you once more, index and middle. He nearly moans at how easily his fingers are sucked in.

A low moan is pulled from your chest as he slowly presses inside, hands curling into the fabric of the couch under you. It feels nice, if not a little over-sensitive from your time before with Gaz. You can’t see how this would be a punishment. Not as he gives you the first orgasm or the second. You were starting to get a little sensitive at the third, a few tears slipping down your warm cheeks. Easily placated away by a few coos from Price.

You start to understand during your fourth as he wrenches it from you. Doesn’t slow between your third and fourth. Get a little worried, even. Ghost is scarily silent from his spot, but Price seems convinced this punishment will leave a lasting impression.

You screech as he fastens his pace right as you peak, not slowing down despite your incoherent babbles. His one hand is firm on the nape of your neck, keeping your upper body still with your face pressed in your tense arms. His other hand is busy pounding three thick fingers inside of you. You can’t control yourself with the sensations being so strong and sudden.

Your legs flex and bend at the knees, kicking up uncontrollably, heels hitting your bottom. You squirm enough that his fingers slip out and he struggles to re-enter them for a moment. He grunts and grips the back of your thighs with his soaked hand to still you.

You pant at the relief and whine at the prospect of an orgasm ripped away by your own doing. You’re whimpering into your forearms, tail sliding between your legs in an almost protective gesture. You cringe as you feel your slick spread to the fluff of your tail. You vaguely hear Price call out to Ghost over the blood rushing in your ears.

“Simon,” he grunts, trying not to get too frustrated. You’re just a pup, after all. You’re still learning.

Ghost nearly jolts from his spot across the room. At some point, unknowingly, he’d slid a hand over his bulge to grip tightly. As if to placate it. His fingers flex briefly before he jolts it away as he stands and steps over to the couch. “Coming, Sir.”

“Wha-..” you mumble, confused as to why Ghost is coming as you turn your cheek to one side. There seems to be some sort of silent communication between them you can’t quite understand. Ghost sits right next to Price on the right side, the side where your legs are. He sits nearly flush with Price, gripping your thighs just above the back of your knees and pinning them to his lap. Spreading them a little, too. Giving Price better access.

Price carefully tucks your sticky tail off to one side, gentle but firm. “Nooo…” You whine as you start to understand his motive. What were you supposed to do if you couldn’t squirm? Just sit there and take it?

“Shhh..” Price shushes you as he slips his freed hand between your legs once more, gently rubbing at your sensitive clit. Tugging your hood up with his middle finger, grinding his thumb against the exposed bud as you flinch. “Doin’ this for your own good. You’ll learn.”

Ghost has an even better view now that he’s up so close. He can see the pulsing of your entrance, inner thighs and Price’s hand completely soaked with your shiny slick. Can feel the warmth of your thighs, nearly taste the salty sensation of your skin. Can hear the way you whimper and moan much more clear now as Price slips another two fingers inside of you.

Ghost can’t help but fall silent again at the gorgeous, arousing sight in front of him. He knows Price’s schedule by heart, and nearly shudders at the relaxation he’s free for at least another hour.

They both are.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 33 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

CW: Fingering, nudity, consent is sexy

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi Show your support by leaving a tip, buy Kit a coffee

“I want to make you feel good,” you whispered, eyes wide and tearful, daring from where he held your wrists, then to his crotch, hardly looking different from it had before and then up to his eyes. 

“No,” he said again, “I don’t- You don’t need to do-” 

You pulled your wrists from his hands, his grip slack enough to let you do so easily, though he could have kept you in place. Leaning back, you wrapped your arms around yourself, hiding your chest as you curled into yourself. 

You had been being a silly girl again. 

He didn’t want you like that.

“I’m sorry, I- I thought-” You shook your head, tears spilling from your eyes as you looked everywhere but at him. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Your knees shook as you stood, looking for anything you could use to cover yourself instead of standing before him naked. Tears dripped down your face, leaving burning trails of shame on your cheeks. Angerly, you batted them away, not noticing Alastor standing until his hands rested on your forearms and then on either side of your face. 

Thumbs caressed your cheeks as he looked into eyes that refused to meet his. “What’s wrong?” he said, “Talk to me. Why are you crying?” 

“It’s-” you forced yourself to smile, a bitter laugh you had intended to sound sunny bubbled from your chest. “It’s nothing. I’m just being a silly-” 

“Talk to me,” Alastor reiterated, smile nearly wiped from his lips. “I cannot fix it if you do not talk to me.” 

“I- It’s silly, I’m just being-”

“I’ll be the judge of that, but if it has you in tears, I doubt it’s truly silly so, stop saying that.” 

You braved looking at him, peeking at the warm brown eyes that held nothing but worry. His eyes begged you to trust him, to open up to him, to give him just a little more. “Why don’t you want me?” 

The words were so soft that Alastor nearly didn’t hear them. For a moment, he stood there simply looking at you as the impact of what he had done, what it had made you believe, washed over him. 

“I do, ma cherie,” Alastor said simply. 

“You don’t.” You were nearly weeping again as you shook your head in his hands.

 The buzz of the electricity in the lights and the ticking of the wall clock seemed deafeningly loud. The sound seemed to drown out the roar of your pulse in your ears. You hugged your arms around you tighter, trying to shrink away. It was silly to think he would want you in the way a man wants a woman. 

“I do,” Alastor insisted, leaning down to be more on your level. “I wouldn’t touch you in these ways if I didn’t.” 

It was a lie, he knew that, but it was a lie he felt alright telling. He’d touched many women he couldn’t care less about, simply to see to it he had the right kind of reputation as a man or to manipulate them, to get something from them. 

The difference was he didn’t dread touching you. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to hear the sounds you made. It wasn’t the right time for him to examine why touching you wasn’t a chore, why he wanted to. 

“Why don’t you want me to-” You didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a harlot. “You’ve felt every part of me and I- I haven’t felt you. You haven’t tried to- to take me.” 

“That has nothing to do with-” Alastor’s thumb smoothed over the damp skin under your eye as he tried to calm you. 

At some point, he made a mistake, and you were hurting for it. He hoped to protect you, to comfort you, yet you were in tears because he failed to read your needs well enough. He had been selfish, taking his entertainment in pleasing you without considering what he could have been saying with his actions… or lack of action. 

“If you don’t want me, that’s fine.” You spoke over him, wet eyes darting to the floor. 

“I do,” Alastor pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. “But Cher, what I do isn’t about me. I’m after your pleasure. I want to see you pleased. I want to bring you pleasure you never thought possible.”

“What about you?” You pressed, “If you do, why don’t you what to be pleased? Why don’t I ever feel-”

“I don’t need to be,” Alastor pulled you into his arms, holding your naked body to his bare chest as he backed you both back to the couch. When he backed up against it, he let his legs fold, pulling you down with him. He sat with you in his lap, keeping your body close to his. You were mildly aware of the slick smeared around your pubic area and thighs, surely smearing into his trousers as he shifted you in his lap. 

“What does that mean?” You wiped the tears away, “Can you not?” 

“I can,” Alastor was quick to assure you before falling silent. Seconds that felt like hours ticked off, marked by the deafening sound of the clock. 

“Then why?” You whispered, too scared to ask if you were not pleasing enough to his eyes. Perhaps there was something wrong with you. There had to be, though he was too kind to say it.. 

“I don’t…” Alastor paused, head falling back against the couch as he sighed, taking his glasses off and letting the wall across from the couch become fuzzy. 

He wanted her; he knew that. He wanted her not as a friend. He wanted her as a wife. He wanted her as a partner. He wanted her as his everything, and so she deserved to know what she was getting by picking him. 

“I’m not consumed with the need to seek pleasure,” Alastor settled for saying, eyes straight ahead. “I can. I’m perfectly capable of functioning but I just… don’t. The drive isn’t consuming. I don’t need it.”

“I don’t understand?” you whisper, scared that if you spoke anything closer to normal volume you would shatter this moment of vulnerability. 

“I don’t need it. What I need is for you to feel good. Your pleasure consumes me. Seeing to your needs drives me. I am satisfied with that.” 

“And that’s why I dont… don’t feel you?” 

Alastor shrugged, “I avoid that, when I don’t…” He hesitated, looking for the right word, “need it. It’s distracting.” 

Silence ticked on as both of you seemed to wait for the other shoe to drop. “You need my pleasure?” You asked finally. 

“Like air to breathe,” Alastor said simply. “It consumes me. Burns through my thoughts. It’s shameful how it haunts me.” 

“What if… What if I needed your pleasure?” you braved resting your hand on the center of his torso, feeling his warmth and the muscles bunched under. 

“You’ve been doing just fine,” Alastor rested his hand on yours, running both up his chest as he wrapped his fingers around yours. 

“Just because I- I am doing that, that thing you make me do, doesn’t mean I’m not wanting more. It feels unbalanced.”

“I don’t need anything,” Alastor kissed the palm of your hand, “All I need to balance it is know you’re pleased and satisfied, that I am giving you something he cannot.” 

“What if I’m not?” You tried to will the tears from your eyes, but they still flowed down your cheeks anew. “What if I want more? What if part of me isn’t satisfied?” 

“You don’t need to do anything for me.” 

“But what if I do?” You turned, facing him better and resting both hands against his chest to brace yourself. “What if I need to please you so I can feel like- like I’m more than I am in this?” 

“You wish to?” Alastor asked carefully. “Truly? Not because you feel you have to? Not because you think I’ll leave without it? Not because you’ve been made to believe your worth is based on it?” 

“I want to,” you pressed. “I want to know what it’s like to- to do those things with a man who loves me, who cares… with a man I love.” 

Alastor was quiet for a moment before pulling you to his chest, nestling you against him. Hot skin burned against you while you waited for what he would say, to see if he would reject you again. He took a slow, deep breath and let it out with a sigh. You waited with your eyes locked on the mark you had left on his neck, scared to push harder and yet terrified of what he would say.

“I want to,” you whispered, slowly running a hand down his chest. “If you’ll let me, if I can?” 

Alastor hooked a finger under your chin, pulling you to look at him as he spoke. “The moment you do not want to anymore, you stop. I don’t care if I’ve not… reached completion. It’s for you. For your enjoyment. Do you understand me?” 

You nodded but Alastor sat frozen still until you squeaked out a soft word of agreement. As soon as you did, Alastor leaned forward and captured yours in a sweet kiss. His hand ran down your back and you gasped into the kiss. He wasted no time slipping his tongue between your parted lips. 

Timid fingers ran along the buckle of his belt as he leaned back, pulling you with him. His hands were so strong as they lifted you, pulling you softly until you were straddling his lap. The smooth fabric of his trowsers under your naked legs, core hovering over him as he tasted you, drinking up the small sighs you let out while his hands roamed your back, holding you. 

Bright brown eyes looked back at your still wet eyes as you pulled back, feeling his hand slide down and cup the swell of your ass. Leaning forward, you tried to remember all the ways Alastor had turned you into a gasping mess as you kissed his jaw and down his neck. 

Hot, open-mouthed kisses you hoped were not just a pale imitation of what he did. You gasped as his back arched a little, his eyes closed as his head fell back as your lips moved over the surely sore place you had bitten him. 

There it was. You felt it. Just a twitch, but it was there as your teeth ghosted over his skin. 

Alastor pulled you tighter against him as his hand reached down from behind, running between your legs. Fingers caressed your folds as you kissed his neck, tentatively running teeth over flesh. Growing bolder by the moment, you worked the belt buckle free as you softly bit his neck, just above where you had sunk your teeth in before.

“You don’t have to do that,” Alastor whispered above you.

“Do you not like that?” You whispered back, grasping midway through as his fingers plunged into you from behind, three wide and spreading your opening easily. You rocked back into his hand before you understood what you were doing, sinking his fingers deeper into you.

“I-” Alastor started before changing direction, “It’s not needed,” 

“That’s not what I asked,” you whispered, grazing him with your teeth again as you felt the twitch of him. 

“I just need a few moments to feel you enjoying yourself,” Alastor said as he worked his fingers in and out, long arms giving him the reach to do so while you were working your mouth on his neck. 

Whatever his feelings on you biting him, you knew it got a reaction even if he wouldn’t talk about it. That’s alright, you decided as you moaned in his ear, his other hand caressing your clit from the front. In time, you would learn every way that Alastor liked to be touched. 

“You’re so wet,” Alastor whispered, head leaned back and Adam’s apple bobbing. You couldn’t help but kiss it. “You’re dipping.” 

Looking down your body and between your legs, you saw he was right. Shame burned through you for a moment, only to be quickly replaced by something else burning as you watched the long, clear glob of slick swaying from your opening. Alastor’s fingers continued working in and out of you as you watched the glob reach his pants. 

You hadn’t realized the orgasm was sneaking up on you until it hit. Your arms gave out, and you had little chance but to ride it out, laying on his chest as your legs trembled and twitched, The weight of your body and the force of his hand working in and out of you was all that kept you on your knees though they spread wider, lowering you closer to him. 

Your pubic mound grazed him as you twitched, rocking with his hand as waves of pleasure coursed through you. You gripped his trousers as if they would somehow ground you as you cried out against his neck.

There was another twitch, stronger, and something remained as you ground against him. It was happening. He was responding to you. That realization caused you to clench around his fingers, still working in and out of you with lewd squelching sounds as a second orgasm chased the first. 

It was too much and god; you craved more. You felt like every part of you was breaking apart with the force of it as you felt him again, becoming firmer under you while you cried out his name. His focus on what he was doing was razor sharp, head to the side to give you room as you writhed in his lap. 

Part of you wondered if he was trying to work you to the point of insanity so that you’d not have the energy to please him. Perhaps he was, but you could feel him now and that kept the fire inside you burning. You needed to have him, though you did not know what you were doing in practice. 

It terrified you how much you wanted something that you knew caused pain. For him, with him, the pain would be worth it. You wanted to suffer through the pain if it made him feel even a fraction of how good he made you feel. It would be worth the pain. 

And what if it didn’t have to hurt? What if being with a man as a woman didn’t have to be painful? What if the pain was something unique to your husband? What if he brought the pain knowingly? 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you reached out for something to keep you from floating away. His hands working on your sensitive skin wouldn’t be able to keep you grounded. All you could think of was gripping him with your teeth as he worked you through the high, since your hand wrapped around his arm and the waistband of his pants wasn’t doing enough.

Your mouth opened as you gasped, head pulled back as he continued working his fingers into you. Your body ran from the sensations as you partially laid against his shoulder. The smell of him surrounded you, the soft skin of his neck brushed against your lips as you tried to catch your breath. And then, you acted without a thought, sinking your teeth into his neck, near where you had bitten earlier. 

Alastor groaned at the feeling, hips bucking up into you before he caught himself. His hand gripped your hip to hold you steady as the twitch under you became something more solid, something that held promise, though you didn’t understand what of. 

“There you go, dear.” Alastor whispered, his voice full of gravel as you let go of him with your teeth. “Are you pleased to have me awake for you? What are you going to do now?” 

In truth, you didn’t know what to do next. You wanted him, but being with him was something you didn’t know how to do. He kept letting you lead. You were walking an uncharted path, and it terrified you not to be following his lead, to not have him telling you what to do. 

“You’re in control,” Alastor said, grabbing your hand from the waistband of his pants. He guided your hand down between your bodies to where he was straining against his pants. Your slick was warm under your fingers as you wrapped them over his covered shaft. “There it is.” 

“I’ve never,” you whispered, looking up at him. “I want to, but-” 

“Do you want me to guide you?” He offered, throwing you a life raft.

“Please?” You whimpered, wanting to be so much more for him. 

“Alright,” Alastor slipped his fingers from your still fluttering hole and leaned you back. “Unbutton my pants, then unzip them.” 

You did as he asked, moving slowly and looking to him for reassurance as you pulled the opening wider. The trail of hair reaching to his naval was rooted far below his waistband, short and neat. With timid touches, you shifted his pants until he sprang free. 

For all of your marriage, you had done your best to avoid looking at your husband’s manhood. It had caused and promised pain. It wasn’t something you had touched, but it had touched you plenty of times. The general shape and form of what men carried wasn’t something surprising to you. 

Anxiety rolled in your stomach as you came face to face with Alastor, standing tall between your bodies. This would bring you pain. It would hurt you. You would endure the pain if it would please him, if you could return just a fraction of what he did for you. 

Alastor was a tall man, though lean. You hadn’t known what to expect since he had been sizable while flaccid. Now that he was harder, he was larger there, too. His tool would have looked cartoonish on a smaller man, but right on him. It twitched under your gaze, as if responding to the way you examined it. 

“Did you just wish to see it?” Alastor asked as he watched you. 

“No, I-” Your face was so hot it felt like it could light a match. 

“Let’s start together then, shall we?” 

When you timidly nodded, he took your hand in his. You trusted him. Alastor would not hurt you any more than he must for you to give him the pleasure you wanted. He could guide you. You would suffer through whatever pain that would come, you would weather.

Alastor wrapped your hand around his manhood. Your hand was so small in his that he nearly covered it with his own. It wasn’t the hard steel that you had known to be rammed into you, but you didn’t brave asking why his skin felt so soft under your fingers. You had already pushed him for so much. If you asked anything more of him, it would surely be too much. It was better to not ask questions. 

His hand guided yours in caressing the length of his shaft as he spoke. You could feel each vein as he ran your hand over his soft skin, toward the slight mushroom shaped tip. A drop of wetness smeared under your fingers as he guided them over the slit at his tip before he brought your hand back down his shaft. His grip tightened over your hand as he guided your hand on a slow journey up his length again. 

“I’m sensitive here, but it’s not likely you’ll hurt me, at least not without trying.” 

Each pass of your hand along his length had him twitching and becoming firmer in your hands. He watched, eyes trained on your face as he took his hand away. Reaching up, he caressed your face, urging you to loop up from your task. 

He pulled you toward him as your hand worked timidly, but independently, along his length. There was a flush on his cheeks, ever so slight as his lips met yours. To kiss him more soundly, you had to raise up on knees planted on either side of his legs.

Each time your hand worked down his shaft, quickly turning to velvet covered steel in your hand, his tip brushed the inside of your thigh. The head of his cock and part of his shaft smeared in your spilled slick, leaving traces of the moisture gathering at his tip in the process. 

It would be so easy to seat him inside you, you realized. You loved Alastor and because of that love, things like this felt good. That was what he had taught you, shown you. It had felt good to have his fingers inside you, to have his tongue inside you. It would surely feel good to have him inside you, too. 

You hadn’t realized how close you had come to spearing yourself on him until his lips pulled from yours and his hands gripped your hips tightly, halting your slow sinking before the head of him could do anything more than brush against your lips. 

“No,” Alastor’s voice was thick, naked of accent and full of gravel. “No.” 

That one word caused you to flinch back from him, shock and fear crossing your face. You had misread. You hadn’t understood. You had thought-

“I’m sorry, I-” 

Alastor shushed you with a kiss, leaning up but not letting his grip on your hips weaken. “It isn’t that I do not- that it isn’t something I want with you, if you wanted it. And you clearly do. You’re dripping on me even now.” Your face flushed as you realized he was right. You could feel your slick dripping onto his cock and your hand around it. 

“I’m so-” 

Alastor cut off your reflexive apology. “It’s not a bad thing. It means you want me. But Cher- I can’t. We can’t. We can do anything and everything but that.”

“Why not?” You struggled to not whine and to hide the hurt from your voice as it felt like a vice was gripping your heart in your chest, threatening to crush it. 

“I’ll not have intercourse with you while you’re still married to him. I can’t- I won’t risk my seed taking root and him acting as father to my child.” 

“Then we’ll never-” 

“Not while you’re married,” Alastor leaned up, kissing you hard as he guided you to sit on his thighs. His cock stood tall and imposing between you, still held in your hand. “What else would you like to do? How else would you like to give me pleasure?” 

You were not sure what to say or do. “What do you like?” 

“I like whatever you’ll enjoy doing. I am yours to explore, to learn what you like to do with.” 

“You had- you used your mouth on.. on me, before.” You whispered, too timid to meet his eyes. “Is there something like that for me to do to you?” 

Alastor was silent for a moment before speaking, “If you’d like. Not all find the act enjoyable to perform. Men and women both can use their hands to bring themselves and eachother to completion. And their mouths on eachother to do the same.” 

“I want to,” you decided, not sparing a second to think of the logistics of what you were asking to do. All you were focused on was the fact that Alastor had used his mouth on you, bringing you to the height of pleasure that you were only just beginning to learn existed. If he could do that for you, knowing surely what bodily functions happened in that region, surely you could do the same for him. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[toomanytookas]

This one took my heart on such a rollercoaster

They are still so crossed in their understanding of where the other is at for so much of the chapter, it's so perfectly pitched to be frustrating and agonising and yet so compelling in terms of my needing to see how it all plays out (full of hope for them to realise they are being much harsher on themselves than the other truly is). And of course it's done with such love.

This was so beautifully achy:

His heart aches, wishing he could curl himself around you and say the words that live on the tip of his tongue. But the moment passes as you pull your hand back to your side of the mattress and the gulf between you feels wider than ever. He lays awake for what feels like hours wishing he was still a cat so he could sleep in your embrace.

I love how you've been mirroring different aspects of their thoughts and experiences throughout this story — their jealousy at the other being with another, their yearning and feeling like they need to let the other go to live their best life, and now their desire. The scene of her in the bath was so delicious and such a fun companion to him in the bathroom.

And of course I loved the resolution of the perceived unrequitedness. ALL OF THE KISSES PLEASE.

Shout out to this, which makes me feel like I have to bring my hands up to my cheeks so they don't fly off my face from grinning so hard (particularly the eye crinkle... the eye crinkle!!!):

“Little mage, I have wanted nothing more for longer than you can know,” he says, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 5

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, yearning masturbation, vegan slander, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: Today feels like a really rough day in the US so I wanted to share this new chapter. Hopefully it'll take your mind off things. I've had a really really hard time writing this chapter. Really glad I stuck with it and struggled through. Could not have done this without input and beta from @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre. Thank you my little witches!

🐈‍⬛

With Margot’s reprieve, life with Ezra becomes the new normal. Weeks pass and he’s slotted into your day to day so easily. Grocery shopping, breakfast at the cafe down the street. He comes to work with you. Except now, instead of lounging on top of a dusty bookshelf, he helps man the cash register. 

Despite your aunt’s insistence that she would not under any circumstances be involved with this “conspiracy” (her word), she had pointed you in the direction of a vieling spell that would keep Ezra’s transformation under wraps. You and he cast the ward around town hoping it might buy some time but you’ll have to come clean eventually.

“By Yuletide, you’d better come up with a proper appeal,” Aunt Margot said. “People will ask questions if you’re absent and I’m not going to lie.”

There’s still time and so you choose to enjoy this secret, this new chapter with Ezra.

You’re smiling to yourself as you climb the stairs to the second floor of the Page with a book in your hands. It’s an antique school primer someone just brought in for Margot to appraise. Nothing special except that the little darling that once owned it filled the margins with dirty limericks and pencil sketchings of cock and balls. Some things never change, no matter what century it is. Ezra will get a kick out of it. He probably knows a few lewd poems himself. 

You hang back when you find him beside the front window. Soft morning light falls over the angular planes of his face. There’s a divot in the center of his throat just visible above the collar of his olive sweatshirt that always catches your eye. You still haven’t quite gotten used to the fact that your old pal Ezra is so damn handsome. Not that you’re attracted to him. He’s just attractive. You’ve reminded yourself of the distinction between that many times over the past few weeks. 

But it’s not the cast of the sun that has you hesitating. Ezra’s talking to a customer, his crooked smile revealing the dimple in his cheek, with a tarot deck in his hands.

“And it was the exact image I’d seen when I took ayahuasca,” she says. “The four of cups.”

“Well, cards are certainly prophetic,” he says, his voice edging on a tease. 

You know her— Zoe’s a regular. She moved into town after backpacking through South America, and waitresses at the diner. She comes in to buy crystals from time to time and she’s good for business. Ever since the diner got written up as one of the “hidden gems of the Catskills,” she sends more and more of her customers over to the Page. 

She’s been stopping in even more recently, the shop’s newest doe-eyed employee obviously her motivation. Twice a week you find her in conversation with Ezra. In fact, she’s given up the pretense that she’s actually shopping for anything anymore. 

“Have you ever had your aura photographed?” she asks. 

“No. A picture of me is a rare thing, indeed,” he says. 

Zoe’s the exact kind of mortal Ezra detests– always talking about “getting into wicca” as if magic is a hobby she can try on– but she’s beautiful. She has hazel eyes and razor sharp cheekbones. Her slim arms are tattooed with delicate talismen and her haircuts seamlessly straddle the border between chic and edgy. 

“I know a place down in Woodstock where you can get it done. Next time I’m going, maybe you can tag along,” she offers. 

There’s a sparkle in Ezra’s eye that makes your chest tight.

You retreat to the stairs before you hear his answer. The sensation building in you is a stab, a flare of something bitter and dark. You’re not sure why you’re jealous because you don’t have feelings for Ezra. Okay, maybe a little crush. But you’ve got that in check. You’re not going to fall for your best friend just because he woke up with the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.

And you’re definitely not intimidated by Zoe’s waif-like frame and heavily lidded eyes. Next to her, you look like an ogre. But why would you need to compare yourself to her? And why shouldn’t Ezra get to bang a goddess when he has a mouth that should be sculpted in marble?  

You realize how ridiculous this train of thought is becoming so you shove it down as tightly as you can, actually shaking your head as though this insanity might tumble out of your ear.

“You okay?” 

Zoe’s standing in front of you at the register, the tarot deck set on the counter between you.

“You’re buying something,” you say, though it’s more of a question than a statement.

“This deck has a really good vibe,” she tells you. “Ezra picked it out.”

Hearing her say his name, you’re like a cat with its hair standing on end. 

“He’s got the same name as your cat. Isn’t that funny,” she notes.

“I see how you look at him,” you say. It’s not meant to come out as an accusation but there’s a bite to your words you weren’t expecting. You’re being ridiculous so you decide to prove to yourself once and for all that your feelings are strictly platonic. The faster you see Ezra with someone, the quicker this little crush will die. 

Luckily, Zoe doesn’t notice it. “That obvious, huh?”

“You should take him for a drink. He’d like that,” you say. Something like relief comes over you. Obviously you’re not jealous. If you were, you wouldn’t have tried to set him up.

“You think so?” she asks, glancing back towards the stairs. “I tried to give him my number but he told me he doesn’t have a phone.”

You try to keep yourself from laughing at what a devastating rejection that would be if it weren't true.

“He actually doesn’t,” you say.

“Really?” 

You shrug.

She nods. “That’s smart. The EMF really messes with your brainwaves.”

“Hm,” you say with a noncommittal nod. “Well, I’ll have him send you a letter or something.”

–

Ezra used to trot down the stairs of the bookstore. Now he has to duck to keep his head from smacking into the shelf that hangs over the doorframe. 

It’s taken some time to get used to his body again but after these few weeks, he’s navigating the world with ease. Ezra hasn’t felt this happy in hundreds of years. He’s doing magic for the first time in a long time and he spends his days working in the bookstore. It’s oddly enjoyable even despite the fact that it’s dull and full of silly mortals. Best of all, there’s you. 

He still can’t comprehend how lucky he is to be given this gift. To be yours. Even if he isn’t anymore, not beholden by the fetters of a familiar, he’ll never stop thinking of himself as belonging to you. 

You’re smiling at him as he comes to the counter and he has to resist the urge to nuzzle his head into your shoulder as he used to greet you. If there’s one thing he misses about being a cat, it’s your scratching behind his ears.

“I got you a date with her,” you say.

“The vegan?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a laugh. “The vegan that you shamelessly flirt with.”

Ezra furrows his brow. He was once quite the charmer but he hasn’t intended to do anything more than amuse himself. Over and over, this woman batted her eyelashes at him and Ezra carefully demurred each time. She was pretty. Perhaps some time ago he would have liked to bed her but he has no designs on her now, not when he falls asleep swimming in the scent of your skin each night.

”You shouldn’t have done that,“ he says.

”Why not? She’s so into you,” you reply.

Ezra says nothing because his answer would give it all away. Instead he grabs a handful of bookmarks decorated with pressed flowers and busies himself putting them on a table on the other side of the room. 

“You’ve been celibate for how long?” you go on, following behind.

“No need for reminders.” 

“We need to get you laid!” you say so helpfully. ”Are you blushing?”

If Ezra’s red in the face, it’s only because he’s realizing what a fool he’s being. You’re ready to send him off to another while he’s madly in love with you. He shouldn’t be surprised. He couldn’t expect that you were going to suddenly leap into his arms with any of the enthusiasm Zoe’s shown him. Maybe he thought there was some chance, some faint hope that you could belong just as much to him. 

But this makes your feelings so clear. You’re not interested. You’re ready to pawn him off on some ridiculous mortal.

”What’s wrong? She too young for you or something?” you tease. 

Zoe is, no doubt, attractive and she’d made it clear that she’s ready to take him to bed, both facts that should have elated him. The problem was, she wasn’t you. And you were someone he’d never have. 

“I can manage my own matchmaking,“ he grumbles. He moves on to a stack of books, straightening their spines though they’re hardly askew. Anything to keep himself from looking at you, being reminded that you’re off limits.

“Ez, she’s been throwing herself at you.“ 

”I suppose in my time I’ve learned to savor the hunt.“ 

“Oh please. You used to eat out of my hand. You should be thanking me,” you say. 

Thanking you for pushing him into the arms of another. His despair calcifies into a rotten resentment. You don’t want him, you never will. 

“I’d much prefer it if you didn’t involve yourself,” he says. It’s nearly impossible to keep the venom out of his voice.

You scoff. In the corner of his eye, you’re frowning. ”Okay. If I’d known you were going to be such a dick about it, I wouldn’t have bothered,” you say, and then you turn around shaking your head and walk away.

He watches you stomp into the next room, regret flooding him. He shouldn’t be so mean, not to you, but the damage has been done. There’s hardly time to think about it because Margot is breezing in from the back door with Percy riding high on her shoulder, the sound of her bracelets filling the store with their music. Ezra sets his features in as neutral an expression he can manage.

“Oh, Ezra, dear. Just who I was looking for,” she says. “Come here a minute.”

She sets a wide box that’s tied with a grosgrain ribbon on the counter.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Open it.” 

He looks from her to her familiar before he pulls the dark ribbon and lifts the lid. Inside is something he hasn’t seen in a dog’s age. The memories it brings back makes his lips tick up in an absent smile. 

“Robes,” he says. “How did you—?”

“We found a description in Goody Cartwright’s diary in the basement,” Margot said. “Dusted off the old sewing machine.”

Percival scampers down her arm to climb into the box. He crawls beneath a sleeve and lifts the hem in his paws, standing on his hind legs.

“I hope they turned out,” Margot says.  

“Mine were nearly identical,” Ezra says as he wistfully inspects the fabric.

He still remembers the feel of the homespun linen against his skin. His robes always smelled of woodsmoke from the moon revels. They had been stained with wine and goat’s milk, the bottom edge besotted with moss and rainwater.

“It was Percy’s idea,” she says.

The mouse ducks his head bashfully when Ezra looks up at him. 

Ezra swallows down the lump in his throat. He’s moved, jaw gripped as he tries to stop from shedding tears. Another gift he’s not worthy of, compounded by the fact that he’s just upset you again. You were doing for him what you’ve always done– taking care of him, showing him that you loved him. If only he could accept it’s not the way he wants it.

He sets his hand out on the countertop. 

“Percival,” he says. 

After some hesitation, Percy steps into Ezra’s palm. Ezra brings the mouse up so that he sits at eye level. 

“I deserve a much starker retribution from you, friend,” Ezra says. “I hope you’ll forgive my misdeeds.”

Percy cocks his head to the side. 

“He says he’ll think about it,” Margot tells him. 

Ezra grins. He offers a finger which Percy takes in his paw and they shake hands. 

“You can wear them this weekend. Sunday’s your first full moon since you turned,” Margot says. 

Ezra had forgotten all about the phases of the moon. How could he be expected to keep track of such things when there were so many new things to experience?

”We’ll celebrate,” Margot insists.

He wants to protest. Right now he doesn't feel much like frivolity, can’t imagine you’ll want to join in with any festivities when he’s been such a complete and total ass. But he knows he ought to learn his lesson and accept.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

Percy squeaks happily and Margot claps her hands together.

“Come on, Percy! There’s much to be done!” she says before disappearing into the back room.

-

The rest of the day is tense between you and Ezra, with few words exchanged. He’s lived with you long enough that it’s not your very first squabble but, in the past, it was much easier to stay out from underfoot. The apartment feels so much smaller now that he’s human, its walls crushing when there’s silence between you. It’s at its worst when you announce you’re going to bed. It feels cold, lacking an invitation, and so Ezra waits in the kitchen for a long while wondering if you want him beside you at all. 

Some time after you’ve turned off the light, he slinks in nervously. He might as well be sneaking into the bed, though for all intents and purposes, it’s become just as much his as it is yours. He’s shared it with you from that very first night. Neither of you raised the notion of his sleeping elsewhere so it became a habit. He wonders now, more strongly than ever, if he’s overstayed his welcome. 

You lay facing the window but he knows your breathing well enough to see you’re not yet sleeping. He lays on the cold sheets hating himself for loving you, for taking advantage of you, for disappointing you.  

“I shouldn’t have accused you of meddling,” he says quietly.

Ezra has accepted the fact that he’ll have to take this mortal out despite having no interest in her. There’s no good reason not to, as you so aptly showed him, and if he doesn’t you’ll want to know why.

At some point in the late afternoon he decided that he would make the best of it. He would stop kidding himself and accept that you had no romantic feelings for him and try to keep an open mind with Zoe. At the very worst, he’d finally get a long overdue fuck. How could a man mope over that? 

But seeing the slope of your shoulder in the moonlight, your eyelashes fluttering as you turn your face up to the ceiling, makes him realize just how impossible is the task that lies ahead of him. 

You sigh and turn over, sheets rustling with your movement. There’s just enough light in the room to shine in your sweet eyes as you look at him and tuck a hand under your pillow. 

“Ez, it’s okay. I know why you got upset,” you say. 

His heart skips a beat. Of course you know. He’s been so obvious, how could you not see it? He swallows hard, unsure of what he’ll say when you call him out. It feels like an age passes as he waits for you to say the words. 

“You haven’t been with anybody for a long time. If you’re not ready, I get it,” you say and you put a gentle hand over his. 

A little laugh escapes him. How absurdly wrong he’d been. He sinks deeper into his self pity. How could he ever imagine a creature as kind and beautiful as you would want him? A reprobate, hundreds of years old. A fucking cat.

“Yes, well, I suppose if she’s as smitten as you believe I’ve nothing to worry about,” he says. 

A smile cracks across your lips and your gaze melts over his face. You brush your palm across his cheek and Ezra can’t help but close his eyes and lean into the touch of your warm skin. 

“How could she not be?” you say.

Your gaze lingers on him, your expression difficult to read. There’s nothing but the sound of your soft breaths and the whisper of dry leaves outside the window. His heart aches, wishing he could curl himself around you and say the words that live on the tip of his tongue. But the moment passes as you pull your hand back to your side of the mattress and the gulf between you feels wider than ever. He lays awake for what feels like hours wishing he was still a cat so he could sleep in your embrace.

-

You lay on the couch with a book spread open on your lap but you haven’t been able to read a single page. Ezra’s out with Zoe which is fine. Totally fine. You made it happen after all, even gave him some cash for drinks and coaching on the dating scene. 

“I’m newly human but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m well acquainted with the customs and mores of modern courtship,” he protested. 

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you asked. 

For a moment, you almost fooled yourself into thinking he wasn’t interested in her. He’d been so prickly when you brought it up. There have been times when you wonder. You’ll catch him looking at you in a way that makes your heart flutter. Or his touch will remain just a moment longer than it needs to, days when you wake up and question if his morning wood is actually for you and not just a fact of human biology. But of course not. And that’s fine.

It’s been a while since you’ve had the apartment to yourself— certainly not in the weeks since Ezra became human— and you’ve had little down time. There’s always some new adventure to take him on. Not that you’re complaining. It’s been the most thrilling time of your life. 

This whole date situation is good, actually, because you could really use a night alone. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine and lit some incense, cracked open the book. A good start. That’s about all you managed. You keep thinking about how it’s going with Ezra. What could they be talking about? Is he having fun? Maybe he’ll actually like her. Wouldn’t that be….something?

Things could never get romantic between the two of you anyway. You wouldn’t risk your friendship, so many years of trust and affection. It’s too precious to you. Besides, there must be something unethical about dating someone that’s been sworn to serve and protect you.

Not that you want to do that.

You snap the book shut and toss it on the coffee table, sitting up. You need to stop being weirdly obsessed with this date. Ezra is your friend, you remind yourself, and you’re excited for him. You just need something more engrossing. 

You put on a period piece. Nothing like a night in with ballgowns and wine. You put your feet up on the table and try to lose yourself in the movie. Ezra is such a pedant when it comes to historical dramas, always pointing out the inaccuracies, complaining about the costumes.

You wish he were here now groaning over the cut of a coat. You wish he was here instead of–

This isn’t working. You know what always clears your mind? A bath. 

The clawfoot tub is filled with oils and herbs, the little bathroom flickers in candle light. You slide deeper into the warm water, focus on the way your muscles unwind. You hadn’t even noticed you were so tense. This was a good call. There’s a knot in your shoulder you massage with your hand. Finally feeling serene, your wet fingers coming to slide across your chest. The water drips peacefully out of the faucet and your cheeks bloom with the alcohol and heat. Maybe Ezra should go on more dates, get the place to yourself more often.

You know what would really make you feel relaxed? Your fingers drift below the water, and skate down your belly and your eyes come to close. It’s been over a month since you got off– Connor (though most of the credit should really go to your passion elixir). It’s been impossible to rub one out with someone else in your bed. At least when Ezra was a cat, he spent a lot of time prowling the woods and being moody. Maybe he’d heard you back then, a thought that somehow equally horrifies and thrills you. 

You touch yourself with a slow, delicate hand and you’re lost in the idea of him watching you now. His chocolate eyes hungry but his body still, the only movement he allows is the rise and fall of his chest. How many times had he seen you, all of you, and not looked away? 

You shiver imagining him, urging you to show him how you take yourself apart. Studying, appreciating. Savoring. Throbbing at each twitch in your brow as you crest and your breath hitches. Even in the water you can feel yourself growing slick, a coil of need winding, and you bite down on your bottom lip. Your mind swirls, your body taught.

He’d be calling you dirty and pretty and good in his flowery prose, stroking your cheek with his knuckles and you unfurl a moan so loud because you don’t have to stay quiet, you’ve got the place to yourself.

Before you’ve even come down from your high, you're flooded with the sting of reality.

No matter how wrong or immoral or risky it is, there’s no denying it– your feelings for Ezra are anything but platonic. And he’s on a date with another woman.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes with a groan. 

The thought of facing Ezra after this revelation makes your stomach turn. You can almost see him sauntering in, hair mussed, body slack from his sexual conquest. It burns a hole in your chest, a scream practically rising in your throat. And you’ll, what, go on living with him, smelling his musk on your sheets and not go completely insane?

You pull the plug from the drain. So much for the bath. It’s early yet but the only thing you can do to help yourself now is be unconscious. There’s no way you’re going to fall asleep with your thoughts racing so you brew up a sleeping draught in the kitchen. With any luck, you won’t have any dreams either.

-

Ezra’s side of the bed is empty and cold. Mid-morning sun glows on the walls of your bedroom and you’re just waking up, the effects of the potion still making your head groggy. But eventually it dawns on you. He’s not there. 

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Your eyes sting with tears, your gut sinking with the weight of it. You imagine Ezra curled up in bed with her. Morning sex. Breakfast. You want to puke. 

After a long while pulling yourself together, you realize it’s better this way. The last thing you need is to wake up next to Ezra smelling like sex and the patchouli notes of Zoe’s perfume. 

You can’t sulk. You need to get up, get over it.

When you step out of your bedroom, you stop short at the discovery that Ezra’s asleep on the couch. So he didn’t spend the night. It does little to soothe your aching heart. In fact, it somehow feels worse. He looks so perfect, long legs bare and brow smooth, mouth turned down in a pout. It’s not fair you have to survive around a man so perfect.

You go into the bathroom and close the door a little too loud a little on purpose. 

Maybe there’s a potion for falling out of love.

-

Ezra’s dragged himself up by the time you step back into the living room, woken by the slam of the door. He had the damndest time sleeping on that couch. Never realized how lucky he’s been to share the bed. 

You stop outside the bathroom door, arms akimbo, and your oversized sleep shirt rides up your thighs. 

“Well?” you ask. 

Ezra can’t help but smirk at your down to business attitude.

Well indeed. 

Zoe had been fine company. Not hard to look at even if the conversation left a little to be desired. His favorite part of the evening came when Zoe brought up the shop and, in turn, you. It was difficult not to let his words run away from him.

Despite his best efforts, knowing that he should give over and accept this, his mind kept slipping back to his little mage. What you would look like in the little frock Zoe had chosen, the jokes that only you would understand. You’d helped him pick out clothes for the evening, a soft woolen sweater you swore wasn't too tight. All night, he kept remembering the drag of your eyes over his arms before you said, “You look really good.” He wants you to look at him like that all the time.

”She’s not intolerable for a mortal,“ he says. 

“‘Not intolerable.’ Sounds like Ezra for bangable,” you say. “So?”

Perhaps in another universe, Ezra would have had a splendid time, would have debauched himself. He’d left after only two drinks, a look of disappointment on Zoe’s face that he wouldn’t soon forget. Had he been a better man, he would’ve felt worse about it but he couldn’t care about anything but you. As he walked briskly from the bar, he resolved to tell you everything, that he couldn’t stand even the suggestion that he sleep with someone else when you consume him. Good sense be damned. What was the point of being human if he had to live like this?

But he came home to find the apartment dark, your bedroom door shut. He listened there before opening it ajar to see you sleeping peacefully. Reality sunk in, fast and hard. A confession could ruin everything. His home, the only family he knew, the people he loved. He couldn’t risk losing you. 

If he woke you, he’d have you face the question you’d just asked so he’d curled up under the throw blanket on the couch, as he had so many times before.

“I won't make a braggart of myself,” he says, sidestepping the question.

You roll your eyes and head back to your bedroom in a hurry. 

Ezra’s shoulders sag with a deep sigh.

-

Sunday morning in the shop is slower than usual. It’s maddening, leaving you with too much time to meditate on your sorrows as you hide behind the cash register. Every time your eyes land on Ezra, you’re treated to fresh torment. For some reason you can’t stop picturing him fucking her doggy style with wild thrusts of his hips.

“Tea, dear?” Margot asks. Her rings tink against a spoon as she stirs honey into her tea cup. Mint and ginger fills your nostrils. 

You merely grunt in reply but hear her setting another cup out for you. There’s a clink of porcelain and Margot clicks her tongue.

“Your bad mood is sullying the energy in here,” she tuts.

You turn to find her wicking spilled tea off of her hand.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” you say too quickly. 

What kind of mood are you supposed to be in when you realize you’re in love with your best friend who was, until recently, a cat, and said friend spent the night with another woman? When there’s a chance that this was all for naught when the Elders find out and turn you into a newt?

Margot scoffs and lights a stick of palo santo, wafting its smoke in your direction. 

“You’d better not bring that energy into the full moon,” she says. “I don’t need to feel all mopey for the next fortnight.”

You cross your arms. 

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask. Margot’s been welcoming to Ezra but you still feel her ambivalence towards you. It hangs in the air the same as your sour aura. 

“Mad at you,” she repeats, pouring another cup of tea. “Why? Because you implicated me and Percy in a crime that I’m concealing from the Elders? I should be, shouldn’t I?” 

You sink deeper into your frown. Margot hands you the teacup. 

“But I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Besides whatever bee is in your bonnet today,” she adds with an arched brow. “And that’s made me very happy.”

You look at her, your lip quivering. Margot’s been there for you longer than Ezra, taught you everything you know about magic and given you an unconditional love you can hardly fathom even in adulthood. You nearly spill your tea again, setting it aside so you can throw your arms around her.

She stumbles backwards with an “Oof” and chuckles into your ear. Her open palm warms your back.

“It’s all in the stars,” she says.

And, right now, you have to believe she’s right.

-

Through the long sleeves of your velvet dress, you feel the chill in the air. It’s much colder than the last time you were in these woods for the solstice. Of course, this is a much different kind of celebration. The fire is smaller, there’s less paraphernalia involved. It’s just the four of you— you and Ezra, Margot and Percy— but it feels more joyful. 

Margot leads you in a ritual to draw down the moon, then sets out an ornate jar of water to charge in its light. You and Ezra help her cast some spells. She swears the ones done under a full moon have the strongest effect. 

But mostly the night is for merry making. There’s wine and incense and apple cider caramels. Margot perches on a tree stump and plays a few songs on her concertina and Ezra insists that you dance with him.

You do, putting your hands into his and letting him spin you in circles. Margot’s words ring in your ears. You can be happy that he’s happy even if it makes your heart ache. At least now, safe from the rest of the world, hands clasped together, you can pretend. 

Ezra looks so handsome in his new robes, you almost wonder if there’s an enchantment on them. The white patch in his hair glows as if the moon came down and kissed him on the forehead. His cheeks are pink and he’s as breathless as you. 

You’re both laughing when the music ends and you let your hand stay in Ezra’s for a while, wanting the fantasy to last just a little bit longer. 

“Now I must insist on a dance with you,” he says to Margot. He holds out a hand to her but doesn’t let go of yours yet. 

“I’m playing the music!” she says. 

“There must be an incantation that will make that squeezebox play itself,” he says and he slips from your grip to pull her to her feet. 

Percy scrambles off of her lap and hops onto your knee as you flop down on the ground. 

“I’ll sing!” you say.

“Goodness no!” Margot says. 

You all laugh and Ezra releases her after a few twirls.

Since it’s his party, Ezra takes the liberty of sharing his favorite stories. He sits beside you on the ground, animatedly narrating his wildest adventures. You’re pretty sure half of them are pure fabrication but he’s having so much fun recounting them, you don’t question even the most outlandish of details. The fire warms your face. Though, considering how it’s dying down, it could just be his glow. Ezra loves being at the center of attention and you wonder the last time he had the chance to command so much of it. He hasn’t stopped smiling since the sun set, that gorgeous dimple growing deeper with each hour. You love seeing him like this, full of excitement and life. 

Eventually, the moon hangs full overhead and Percy curls up to sleep on Margot’s shoulder. The crackle of the fire slows and you throw your head back to look at the sky dotted with so many twinkling stars. For the first time since Ezra left for his date, you feel peaceful. He’s quiet now and you try to catch another glimpse of him in the dark only to find his dark eyes shining at you. He smiles tenderly, and your whole body warms with affection. You can almost believe it’s a look of longing.

Margot slaps her hands against her thighs and stands, breaking your gaze. 

“Well, I’d better go before I turn into a pumpkin,” she says. 

“Oh, come on. It’s early,” you say. 

“We’ll brew you something to wake you in the morning,” Ezra offers. 

“That’s alright. Enjoy,” she says. Before she heads back into the trees, she takes Ezra’s hand and gives it a squeeze and pats you on the shoulder. 

You’re quiet for a long time, watching the fire die down. It comes back to you, slowly at first, then a flood of emotion, the uncertainty of your future. This night has been a gift but, one way or another, you’re destined to lose Ezra. There’s a melancholy look on his face that hints he might be thinking about the same things. 

“Should we retire then?” he asks after a sigh. 

“Wait. I want to give you something,” you say. Margot arranged this whole evening and you feel like you’ve shown up to a party empty handed.

“You’ve given more than enough.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been putting off really bad vibes. So a protection spell.” You rise to your feet.

Ezra pulls himself up with your help and this time you don’t allow him to let go. You take both of his hands in yours, his rough fingers entwined in your own, and he watches you, with a fond curiosity on his face. He flusters you. His gaze is so intense, you have a hard time meeting his eye.

“Okay,” you say, shaking out your limbs. 

Magic tingles where your palms meet and you notice that his thumb traces yours gently. Having spent the night before without him seems to double the intimacy of the moment. He looks downright beautiful like this, the angles of his face outlined in fire and moonlight. It’s almost unbearable. 

“Ezra,” you start.

His lips part at the sound of his name.

“I protect you with my magic and my spirit,” you say.

He can surely feel it surrounding him like an embrace. It’s so intense, you can barely fill your lungs. His eyes are so soft, round and sweet. They glisten in the darkness. 

“And my heart,” you add, your voice breaking.

You put your palm against his cheek, the pad of your thumb tracing the hairline scar there, to seal the spell and he takes in a sharp little gasp at your touch. There’s a look in his eye, beseeching, and you feel the tug of his magic, drawing you in closer like a knot tightening between you. It’s a whisper, so faint you’re probably imagining it, but you follow it to him, to his lips. 

Before you even realize it, you’re kissing him. Tender and aching and it feels like relief to have his mouth on yours, to taste the wine on his tongue. His lips are soft and hesitant. Your body molds against him, it always does. You’ve been in his arms so many times before and yet it’s never felt more right than this very moment. 

Except that it’s wrong. There are all of those reasons why this can’t be, how awkward it will be when he stops you, when he goes back to sleeping on the couch. Suddenly you’re pulling away despite your body screaming for you to do anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I shouldn’t have– Shit!” You swallow down a lump in your throat.

Ezra holds you firm by your elbows, pulling your hand away from your lips and shaking his head.

“Little mage, I have wanted nothing more for longer than you can know,” he says, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

You stare at him, wide eyed, mouth agape, trying to make sense of his words. Your heart flips and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

And then he kisses you again and again and again.

🐈‍⬛

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[plaidpajamallama]

(You scared me) RHEA RIPLEY X JEY USO

Chapter 25

_________________________________________________

Rhea was sitting in the passenger seat of the rental car. Damian got they were on their way to the Intuit Dome.

The music from her playlist blasting over the radio as she stared out the window

She felt nervous about what the day would bring.

This was her last shot at her title; if she lost this, then it was over. It was Liv’s, and she would have to move on and accept it.

She turned to Damian. You think I can do it?

He turned down the music, looking over at her. Yeah, you're going to win.

And if I don’t?

And if you don’t, then you find something else, something better. There’s a whole new title to go after; there’s Tiffy the Rumble. Besides, you never needed a title to be the best; you just are the best. Rhea

She grabbed his arm, laying her head against it. Thank you.

No problem. For the record, you're going to win.

She sighed. It’s going to be a long day.

Yeah, it is, but I don't have anything to do, so if you need me—

I’ll come find you, she cut in.

Thank you, and please don’t just run off after your match with Jey.

I won’t. She chuckled, letting go of his arm. I don’t think there will be any running off tonight.

He looked at her with a confused expression. What happened? What did he do?

Nothing; he didn’t do anything! She said quickly. He’s just got a lot going on with Roman right now, so we’ll see what happens tonight.

She sank into her seat, resting her head against the window. She was a little worried about what might happen; this whole day could end horribly.

Not just could she lose her final shot at what was rightfully hers; she knew she took the first shot at Liv, but Liv took more than was fair, and now this was the end. What happens happens if she lost; it was over, and if she won, she was finally done with all of it.

Then on the other side she had to worry about Jey.

Not just in his match; she believed in him. He could handle Drew; she knew Drew pretty well from when he helped them out in war games.

She would bet good money on Drew letting his emotions get the best of him.

But then she could say the same for Jey; there was a lot on his mind right now.

She wasn’t sure when they would talk to Roman, but if that was anytime before his match, whatever Roman says will affect him in the ring.

She kept making up different scenarios in her head of how this whole thing might go.

She knew some of the things Roman did, but she didn’t know the full extent of said things until she got with Jey, and he told her.

He never said it exactly, but just the way he spoke told her enough about what happened when he was in the bloodline.

This was eating at him, and she couldn’t help but feel a little responsible.

none of this would’ve happened if she didn’t make some big deal out of it If she didn’t pick a fight with him about him not fucking talking to her, then they wouldn’t be here. Jey wouldn’t be going through all of this right now.

She let out a sigh, her breath fogging up the window.

God, she shouldn’t blame herself; if she told him any of that, he would be even more upset that she ever thought, even for a minute, that it was her fault.

She heard the music stop, and all of a sudden, she picked her head up off the window.

The screen on the dashboard lit up with a text from Jey saying they made it to the arena.

He slid his phone back in his pocket as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk before slamming it down.

He told Roman that they needed to talk sometime before he left.

He had gotten there a little early since he had to do something before the actual show along with the normal thing he always had to do.

This day wasn’t all bad, though he not only was going to beat Drew’s ass, he also got the opportunity to walk out with Travis Scott.

So if shit went bad with Roman, at least he had that to look forward to, and he means Rhea winning what was hers, of course.

He pushed through the back doors of the arena. Waving at the security guards standing out front as he passed

He was excited for Rhea; she had this one. There was no doubt in his mind she was going to walk out tonight empty-handed. He had no doubt in Roman winning either; he believed in Solo; he was going to give him a run for his money. for sure

But Roman was going to win, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Solo may not have been the best, but he surely was as bad as Roman.

Everyone in Solo’s bloodline was there because they wanted to be, not because they were forced to be.

Roman has been drunk on power ever since he got it. Before he got it, he was now getting humble. He thought about all the time Roman got knocked on his ass while he walked down the long hallway.

Rhea was sitting with her eyes closed as she got her makeup done.

As the show got closer and closer, she could feel her nerves creeping up but also her adrenaline

If this really was the end, she was going to fight like hell to win. If Dom and Raquel felt the need to intervene, then she would take care of them to

Nothing or nobody was going to stop her from winning tonight.

Hey, babygirl, it’s good to finally see you. He sat down at one of the vanities along the wall.

She smiled. I wish I could see you.

You look beautiful, Mama.

And I’m not even done yet. Claire chimed in.

Don’t feed his crazy

It’s not crazy if it’s true; you're beautiful, right?

Oh yes, you look beautiful, and you will only get more beautiful from here.

She laughed at both of them. Do you need something, love?

I just wanted to see you. I've been busy; I had to work the red carpet. You know he popped his collar.

Oh! I know, and I don’t know if I appreciate you showing everybody what’s mine.

People see all that all the time; it ain’t new. Now all that other shit, yes, it’s yours.

As long as you know it, I would hate to have to show you, she said sultrily.

She smiled to herself when she heard him get quiet; she could feel Claire smiling back at her.

This wasn’t the worst thing she had overheard in these chairs; shit, this wasn’t the worst thing she had even seen in these chairs.

She heard him clear his throat as he stood up.

The devil is a lie, he said before walking by her.

She grabbed his hand. Hey, when do you need me? She said gently.

Um, after you get done here, if that’s cool?

Yeah, of course, I’ll come find you. She brought his hand up, placing a kiss on it.

See you in a bit, Mama, he said, walking away.

I think I like him more than Dom. He’s much better to look at, that’s for sure.

She laughed, Ooh, by a long shot.

Ok, now stay still so I can finish.

It didn’t take long for Claire to finish her makeup. A purple look with a black lip, as always. She already had on her gear, so she just needed to get her hair done, but she would do that after everything with Jey.

She met him outside the man’s locker before walking to Roman’s

She checked with him one last time if he wanted her there before they made it; he told her he wanted her there before knocking on the door. Heyman answered the door and let them in.

As soon as they walked in, the air was thick with tension. Roman was sitting back in his chair, manspreading, rubbing his wrist in his hand.

He had on his ring gear along with his gloves.

She had seen him before, but in this light he was even more intimidating than he was in the ring.

They sat down on the couch, his hand letting go of hers as he clasped his together.

Heyman sat down on the couch on the side closest to Roman.

She had forgotten how loyal he was to him; he found it a little weird then, and she still found it weird now.

So what do you want? Roman seemed already tired of this conversation.

Why lie if you already know about us, uce?

Because you wanted to tell me, so I let you.

He sucked his teeth. You let me?

Yeah, you made a big deal about telling me, so I let you

You could have told me after I told you.

Maybe I was, but you ran away.

He scoffed, I ran away? I walked away because you were being an asshole, uce.

He scowled. Jay I told you I don’t care about all this he gestured between him and Rhea. I was just looking out for you.

Looking out for what? You haven't been here. What were you going to do, uce? You haven't even been here to handle your business, he said, annoyed.

Roman sat up in his chair, leaning forward, his arms hanging off his knees.

See, Jey, you always get caught up in your emotions.

He scoffed, Here we fucking go, he muffled under his breath.

This isn’t about you and her; it’s about business.

What fucking business!? I don’t work with your ass anymore; you don’t get to decide what I do! I’m a grown ass man; I can do whatever I want!

You don’t act like one, Roman said weirdly calm. You don’t get it, do you, Jey? Everything I do is to take care of you.

Bullshit!

He ran a hand over his chin, letting out a frustrated sigh. You can think whatever you want, but that's the truth: the Wiseman only looked into the her for you.

I didn’t ask your ass to do that shit, uce!

Roman looked him dead in his eyes because that's what family does, Jey; they try to help each other even when they don’t want it.

He ran his hand over his face. There you go with your bullshit again, Uce, he said as he stood up.

Roman stood up to meet him; he didn’t say anything, just looked at him, and that’s all it took before he started to avoid his gaze, finding anything else to look at.

I was just looking out for you, Jey. I just wanted to make sure you were happy, but all you want to do is fight. I’m fighting for this family. In 20 minutes, we both agreed that Solo can’t do that yet.

He’s not ready, he said softly, but maybe one day you’ll be ready. But if you keep acting like a goddamn child and picking fights, you won’t be, so get it together! He didn’t yell or raise his voice; he kept his voice soft and calm, but the bass in it hit him in his chest.

I don’t want to see you until you beat Drew, and if you lose, I don’t want to see you at all.

He shoved him back, his heels hitting the front of the couch.

He didn’t respond, just nodded before storming out the door, hitting the wall behind it.

Rhea stood up to walk out after him, but Roman stopped her, putting his arm across the doorway.

She looked up at him in his eyes. Move She said confidently, which seemed to catch him a bit off guard.

He eyed her down before moving his arm out of her way.

She walked out mumbling under her breath, as she did so, she walked down the hallway looking for Jey. She found him sitting on a crate with his head in his hands.

Baby, she put her hand on his back. She was about to ask if he was okay, but she already knew the answer to that question.

Baby, it’s fine.

He let out a breath through his hands. No, it’s not. I let him get to me, and now

Don’t worry about that, my love; just focus on Drew. That’s all you have to worry about tonight.

She bent down in front of him, putting her hand on his knee. Okay?

He’s moved his hands away from his face, looking down at her. I just need a minute, Mama.

Okay, I have to go get ready for my match. It’s after his, so I’ll probably see you after yours.

Okay, he kissed the top of her head before she stood up, walking away.

He let out a deep breath, falling back against the wall.

He couldn’t believe he let Roman get to him like that; it brought him right back to all the times before when he had put him in his place.

But now he was on the same level as him. Shit, he let him walk out last at war games.

But he so quickly brought him down back to the level he thought he belonged at.

It was funny, actually, that he thought they could have a normal conversation.

He was so damn confused why he was making such a big deal out of this for no fucking reason.

It’s not like he told him to sit down and have a talk with her, but he wanted to bring her around without it being weird, but maybe he was asking for too much.

He cleared his throat, hopping off the crate. He needed to get started getting ready for his match, and sitting around thinking about Roman wasn’t going to do that.

_________________________________________________

Rhea ran to go find Damian; she finally got her baby back, and she was over the moon.

It didn’t take long for her to find Damian; he was coming to find her as well.

She jumped up into his arms, her title hitting against his back.

So many emotions were running through her right now: happiness, sadness, just a mix of emotions.

I knew you could do it, he said, wrapping his arms around her to hold her up.

She could feel tears welling up in the corner of her eyes, tears of happiness.

She couldn’t believe it that she was finally champion again, that the title was hers; she wasn’t just holding it because Liv dropped it.

It was hers, actually hers; it was in its rightful place, and it was never gonna leave her again.

She hopped down, feeling off balance; her legs felt like they were going to buckle at any moment.

Damian grabbed her by her shoulders. You good?

Yeah, I think I’m just in shock, she said with a nervous giggle.

Ok, here, sit down. They moved to the side of the wall. She slid down the wall, sitting on the floor.

He sat down next to her, putting his hand on her knee.

You see me out there? You see my new friend?

She said teasing him

You are never going to not rub that in my face, huh?

Nope, because I meet the Undertaker, she said in a sing-songy voice.

I hate you, he said, shoving her away.

She playfully scoffed. No, you love me, and soon enough we’re both going to have gold again.

She stood up off the ground. But for now you can hold mine if you want to fill the void.

I hope they lose your nameplates. He said, standing off the ground.

Oh wow, and I was going to let you do an interview with me, but

Oh come on, we’re going to be late, or do you want to go see Jey first?

No, he’s already set for his entrance. I’ll see him after his match.

Alright then, come on.

Jey walked through the curtains out of gorilla

He beat Drew; all that was behind him now.

He handled it just like he was supposed to.

He walked through the halls looking for where Rhea was.

He thought about going to see Roman, but that thought left his mind as fast as it came.

He found her with Damian, standing in front of a TV; she was bouncing off the walls.

Jumping up and down as the replay played on the screen

He sneaked up behind her, grabbing her waist, feeling the cold metal of her title under his hands.

She giggled, Hi, baby.

Hey, babygirl, you like my match? He asked with a smirk.

No! She hit him in his arm. You scared me half to death!

Okay, okay! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you, Mama. I’m good, alright?

Ok, just don’t do it again.

I won’t. He turned his attention to Damian. Sup, Uce? How you been? He said dapping him up

Good, just keeping an eye on this one, he ruffled her hair.

She pushed his hand off of her head. I don’t need you to keep an eye on me.

Alright, you did good out there, man.

Thanks, Uce, finally starting to put all this shit behind me.

I'm going to put this whole thing with Finn to rest next week.

Look at that; we're all moving on to better things. Rhea chimed in, Who would have thought, huh? She smiled.

Speaking on moving on, he said, Looking at Damian, give us a minute, Uce.

Yeah, see you guys in a bit, and please remember you both are on the press show, he yelled as he walked away, making her laugh.

Yeah, yeah, he said, waving him off.

He turned his attention back to her. You look good with that title, babygirl.

It should. That’s where it belongs, love.

I like my woman with gold. He said, his hands wrapping around her waist.

Mmm, we still have work to do, baby.

So fuck the press conference.

I thought you were going to enter in the rumble tonight?

I can do that next week on Raw.

Or you can do it when you’re supposed to, or are you that needy baby?

He felt a shiver down his spine as her words left her mouth; she had a smirk on her face as she moved her hands to his waistband, pulling him closer. Do you need Mami that bad baby? Or can you wait like a good boy? She said with a pout.

He felt his pants becoming tighter as she slipped her fingertips into his waistband.

I’ll wait, he said, stumbling over his words.

She raised her eyebrow, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

He leaned closer to her, just inches above her ear. I can wait like a good boy.

His pants definitely felt tighter now he lifted his head up.

She had a pleased grin on her face. See, baby, you always make this so hard, she said with a giggle, sliding from under him and grabbing his hand.

Now let’s go find a place to watch the end of the show.

Damn you, you aren’t going to give me a second girl all that shit you just pulled.

You started it, baby, and I’ll finish it later, but for now we have shit to do, so come on, she said, pulling him down the hall to where Damian went.

Fine, fine, but can we stop by the locker room right quick, though?

Sure, whatever, baby.

Jey slid the keycard into the lock, throwing the door open, not caring where their suitcases went.

as they stumbled into their hotel room, their lips crashing into each other

He closed the door with his foot; the light from the hallway disappeared, leaving them in the dark.

His hands grabbed at her waist, her title still around it; she pulled off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Her hands roamed his body, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went.

He pushed her up against the wall, beginning to take off her shirt; he tossed it on the floor before kissing and biting at her neck, pulling a moan out of her. She flipped him around, holding him against the wall.

They both took this opportunity to catch their breath, just the look of lust in their eyes.

Damn, babygirl, what you trying to do? he said in between his breaths

Mmm, I have a couple of things in mind. She said with a grin, moving her knee between his legs, pushing it against him.

Fuck Mami! his head hit the wall, his now aching cock trapped under her knee

You have been so needy lately, and I don’t know why, baby. Her knee pressing harder against his cock

Shit, he said breathlessly, slightly bucking his hips.

God, baby, people would think I have touched you in weeks with the way you're acting.

Mami I didn’t mean to—his words died in his mouth as he saw the look on her face.

I want you to take your pants off and go sit on the bed while I do something.

He said, "Okay, letting a whimper leave his lips as she took her knee away, turned around to get her suitcase, but realized they were still in the dark. And get the light too, love.

She heard a click before yellow light filled their hotel suite. She chuckled seeing their suitcases just thrown in front of the door.

She rolled them into the living area in front of the coffee table, laying hers on the floor and unzipping it as she heard his shoes hit the ground.

She slipped off her shoes, then took off her pants, leaving her in just her bra and panties, her title hanging low on her hips.

She walked around the room diviner seeing Jey lying on the bed with his hands under his head, watching TV in just his boxer briefs.

She leaned against the column of the diviner, her hands behind her back, eyeing his body as he lay there, her eyes tracing over him.

His skin shined under the yellow light from the lamp on the nightstand.

She could see a few faint marks on his chest that were later turned into bruises. If she didn’t know his body so well, they would go unnoticed due to all his tattoos covering his body.

She loved the way they looked; she followed them down the sides of his waist to the top of his underwear. There was a visual bulge in his boxers; they were high up on his thighs, showing off the rest of his tattoos. his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the ground

His eyes finally flickered over to her, the air getting trapped in his throat.

She sauntered over to the bed, swinging her hips.

You turned on the TV?

Didn’t know how long you were going to be

She crawled onto the bed.

Mmm, you look real good with that gold mama.

Thank you, she giggled, throwing her leg over his hip, straddling

Her fingers ran against his skin, giving him goosebumps as she leaned forward, kissing him.

Moving down his jawline and neck, leaving marks along them

Fuck, the cold metal pressed against his skin as she moved down his body; he winced as her hand touched his rib, subconsciously pulling away from her touch. Shit baby

Sorry, I didn’t mean to love you. Are you hurt? She sat up, her hands resting on her thighs.

No, I mean, yeah, but I’m not injured or shit.

But you are hurting? She said, eyeing the marks on his chest.

Yeah, just that spot, though these are just marks he gestured at himself.

So you’re ok? She said with a worried look.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her back over him, just inches away from his face. I’m okay, Mama. Do you still want to do this?

Yeah, I just didn’t want to hurt you.

You won’t Rhea. He said, hooking his finger under her chin, pulling her into a deep kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth, making him groan into her mouth.

She grinded down on him, feeling him through the layers of cotton between them; she could feel the warmth between her thighs growing with each groan and moan that left them.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her down against him. She reached her hands behind his head into his hair.

You want me to take it off? He said, breaking their kiss, his hands going up her back.

Go ahead, she said, kissing and marking his neck.

He unhooked her bra. His fingers grazed her hot skin as he pulled down her bra straps, throwing it to the side.

God baby, you're so beautiful. his hands cupped her breast, causing the air in her throat to get stuck

She gave in to his touch, his big hands kneading her breast, his rough palms brushing against her hard nipples.

Her moans vibrated against his collarbone, going straight to his dick as he played with her

He moved his hands down to her hips under the leather strap of her title, grabbing her ass.

She pushed back into them. Take them off, baby. Fuck Mami, he groaned as she brushed against his hard, trapped cock.

She giggled as she brushed up against him again. I love those little sounds you make, baby.

He slipped her panties down her thighs, throwing them on the floor.

The cold air hitting her dripping pussy, she held herself up with one hand, using the other to tug down his boxers, his cock popping out over the waistband, falling against his stomach.

Oh, but I’m needy, he grinned.

She smacked her teeth. Shut up; she raised her hips up, lining him up with her, his tip rubbing against her cunt.

He threw his head back, feeling her warmth drawing him in, but she just held him there.

Mmm, Mami he said, coming out like a whine

Tell me what you want, baby.

Fuck I want you please right there, Mami, please, please, please.

She slowly sat down, throwing her head back at the feeling of herself stretching around him.

Shit, baby, you're so fucking tight.

She took all of his length inside her; she always forgot how big he was until she had to take him, feeling him deep in her gut.

She put her hands on his chest as she began to move her hips, both of them moaning at the new sensation.

Fuck Mami! He grabbed her thighs, his nails digging into her skin.

She leaned forward, her hands next to his head.

God, baby, you fill Mami up so well, you feel so good; she felt his cock twitch at her praise.

You're such a little praise slut, baby, she said with a grin. You would do anything I asked if I told you you were a good boy, wouldn’t you?

His nails dug into her skin deeper; his face contoured, his mouth fell open, but no words fell from it, just broken babbles.

God baby, I wish you could see yourself; you look amazing like this.

Every word that left her mouth was fuel to the fire; he couldn’t even think of the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room as she moved her hips up and down.

He moved his hands up her waist, grabbing onto her title, his thumbs sliding under her title, touching her burning skin, his fingertips brushing against something.

Holy shit, baby! He shouted with one hand on her stomach and the other on her title.

She giggled, pushing her hair out of her face. I told you you were a big baby; she arched her back down. So big you almost split me in half the first time she whispered in his ear.

Fuck Mami, please, he moaned.

What love? She nipping at his ear

He sighed, Mami, come on.

Oh baby, if you can be needy, you can beg, so let me hear that beautiful needy voice of yours.

He threw his head back. Fuck Mami, please, just please

You can do better, love. Come on.

He groaned. Please, please let me cum. Mami, I’ll be good, so, so good, please. He gripped her hips tighter.

She felt the warmth in her stomach growing, her movements growing faster. Keep going, baby.

Please, please, I’ll listen. I’ll... I’ll fuck! Just please, Mami, I can’t. It’s shit! His words turned into a moan as she squeezed around him, her body shuddering as her orgasm rips through her. His following a second after

She fell down onto her elbows trying to catch her breath.

He brought his hand up onto her hair, pushing it out of her face. You good? He said in between breaths

Yeah, just need a sec.

He unclipped her title, pulling it out from under her, letting it fall to the floor. Here is that better?

Yeah, thank you. She kissed his cheek before raising up off of him with a gasp, lying down next to him.

What the fuck are we watching? She laughed.

I don’t know; I haven't really been paying attention like that, babygirl, he chuckled, standing up. I’ll be right back.

Ok, will you get me some water?

Yeah, of course.

He walked into the bathroom, grabbing a towel, wiping himself off, and catching a look in the mirror.

His chest was covered in marks along with his neck. Damn, babygirl, you fucked me up!

He flicked off the light walking into the kitchen. He set the cup down on the TV stand before crawling back on the bed in front of her.

We should really start putting a towel down or something.

Yeah, we should, but will we?

Not a chance. He stood back off the bed, grabbing her cup. Here, babygirl

She sat up. Thank you.

You want to take a shower?

No, I will take a bath, though my body's still sore.

Ok, I’ll draw us one where he kissed her forehead before walking away.

They sat in the triangle-shaped tub, both at different points. bubbles covering them

Don’t think I have taken a hot bath in years. Jey said his arms were lying on the sides of the tub.

It’s nice, plus I’m in it, so it helps her smile, her foot popping out above the water.

That does help, so what are you going to do now?

I don’t know. I’ve been chasing Liv’s ass for so long I don’t really know what’s next. I guess whatever comes my way. What about you? Who are you going to from when you win the rumble?

Don’t know shit; I might not even win.

She playfully scoffed. She splashed him in the face.

Girl! He turned his head to the side.

You’re gonna win!

Okay, damn girl.

Jay I’m serious; you're going to win. Don’t doubt yourself.

It’s not doubt; it’s just I don’t know, maybe it’s doubt. He rubbed the back of his neck.

You're gonna win, baby. I would bet good money on that shit; I would put my title on the line for that.

Ok, don’t be crazy, Rhea. You just got that shit back; don’t risk it.

I’m not. I’m just saying if you act like you already lost, then you're going to lose.

I know, I know.

So say it, say you're gonna win.

Are you serious?

Dead, she said, straight-faced.

He chuckled, Really?

Come on, what you got? She nudged him with her foot.

I’m going to win the rumble. he said halfheartedly

Oh come on, you can do better; you just did a whole lot better. She said, her mouth curling into a grin.

I’m going to win the rumble, he said this time with more confidence but still not good enough.

Aw, it’s cute that you call that conviction, and you were a heel for years.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. I’m gonna win the fucking rumble and beat both Cody and Gunther’s asses this time, saying it like he believed it this time.

See, I knew you had it in you.

He sucked his teeth. Girl, get on; he playfully pushed her back down.

She laughed settling back down against the edge of the tub Baby, can we talk about this morning?

He sighed, his body tensed up. I don’t wanna talk about that shit.

Jey, if I knew that would’ve happened, I wouldn’t have told you to talk to him; I would’ve dropped it immediately. She sat up, putting her hand over his.

It’s not your fault, babygirl; he’s just like that.

I know just I wouldn’t have pushed you—

You didn’t push me to do shit, Rhea. He shifted, running his hand over his face. I wanted to talk to him; I just needed a little help to get there. I told you Roman was an asshole.

Jey, that’s not just him being an asshole; that’s-

I know what it is; his eyes flickered away from hers. I know what it’s called; he hung his head.

Then why take it? She moved forward, his knees in between her legs. Why put up with it?

Because he’s family, and if you don’t, it’s worse than what you saw—his voice cracking just a little, or you’re out of the family.

She grabbed his hand. My love

Seeing all that happened today showed her why Jey acted the way he did, why he would shut down, why he was so scared to lose her, and why he never wanted to talk to Roman or get involved with the bloodline again in the first place.

It was all trauma. Roman broke him and then put him back together the way he wanted.

My love It’s ok; I got you.

I know he put his hand over hers, gripping it tight.

I will never let Roman hurt you like that again, ok?

You can’t make promises like that, Rhea. he said, shaking his head

Yes, I can, because I mean it. She lifted his head up to look at her; there were tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. I will never let anything happen to you, my love.

He looked like he believed it, but the look behind his eyes looked like he didn’t want to trust it.

She brushed his hair out of his face. I love you, and I will always be here for you no matter what. You will never lose me. Do you understand me?

He nodded his head in response. Come here.

He said almost as a whisper, he moved his legs, making space for her.

She moved, sitting with her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close; she could feel his breath was a little shaky.

She knew his mind was racing; she rubbed his arm, her head falling against his shoulder.

I love you too.

_________________________________________________

Woo this one is long but I think it’s well deserved since it was the first raw on Netflix

Also i hate to say it but the next chapter will sadly be the end of their story (who knows what will happen down the line) I will probably do a one shot here or there but as a series this is the end I hope y’all still rock with me after this is over 🖤

[cigarettesaftersae]

i'll like you - 07 lucky girl syndrome

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

With a good sniff, the inhalation gifted you great pleasure. The well-cooked food settled down on the table was nothing but a present wrapped with a bow just right for your tummy. The soft clatter of dishes echoes through the dining room as your mom gracefully places steaming plates of food onto the table, the rich aroma of her cooking filling the air. Reo, his eager eyes sparkling like a puppy's, sits obediently by your side, his hands folded neatly in his lap. A warm smile spreads across his face as he watches your mom showcase her culinary talents, her precise movements a testament to years of practice and love.

“Is this what you have every dinner?” Reo turns to you

“If I don’t take naps”

A chuckle gracefully leaves his lip which only get glossier. Finally accomplished with tonight’s dinner, your mom sits down immediately picking up utensils as if her stomach rumbled with thunders and both you and Reo followed along with her.

“So, what do you do nowadays, Mikage?” your mom asks politely, her hands busy arranging utensils on the table.

Reo’s lips twitch upward into a charming smile, but he quickly waves a hand in the air, his tone light and friendly. “Oh, please, no need for formalities. Call me Reo,” he insists, leaning forward slightly in his seat. “but I’ve really been focusing on soccer.” There’s a brief pause where his smile deepens, and you catch the flicker of genuine pride beneath his usual confidence. Reo’s voice spikes with a glitter of excitement, perhaps his passion towards soccer has been his highest of satisfaction or maybe it was his bromance with Nagi. “I couldn’t have done it without my great friend Nagi.”

Your mom hums in approval, her gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Reo. “Soccer, huh? That must take a lot of dedication. It’s wonderful that you’ve found such a strong connection with your teammates.”

Reo nods eagerly, his excitement undiminished. “It’s not just dedication, really. It’s… I don’t know, it feels like it’s my purpose. And with Nagi, well,” he chuckles softly, “it’s like having someone who always understands what I’m aiming for, no matter how crazy it seems.”

“How romantic,” you comment dryly, breaking the thoughtful silence as you spear a piece of food with your fork and pop it into your mouth. Your tone carries the faintest edge of sarcasm, but it’s softened by the amused smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Your mom chuckles softly at the interaction, shaking her head as she arranges more food on the table. “It’s wonderful to see such passion in young people. You don’t see bonds like that every day,” she says, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Right?” Reo agrees, flashing a grateful smile at your mom before shooting you a playful look, as if daring you to make another comment.

Before you can respond, your mom’s voice cuts through the moment, light yet curious. “Where’s Yuna nowadays?”

The name alone sends a jolt through you, freezing you in place like ice water running through your veins. Your hand stiffens around your fork, the lump rising in your throat making it impossible to speak. How could you answer that? Lie to your mom? No, you’d never do that—never could.

“She’s, um…” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “She’s busy nowadays.” The words leave your mouth dry and flat, as if scraped together from fragments of an incomplete sentence.

The room feels heavier now, as if unseen storm clouds had gathered overhead. The once-warm atmosphere shifts to a quiet tension, your mom’s cheerful hum faltering for just a moment. Maybe you should say more, something convincing to ease her concern, but the words won’t come. They stick in your throat like stones, immovable.

Reo, however, doesn’t let the silence linger. “I heard she’s been having lots of family over!” he interjects, his tone effortlessly light and cheerful, like sunshine piercing through heavy clouds.

Your eyes snap to him in surprise, and for a moment, he meets your gaze with a knowing look—one that speaks of silent understanding and an unspoken promise to have your back. The gloom that had settled over the table begins to lift, the tension easing as your mom’s expression softens.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she says, the smile returning to her face as she continues setting the table.

Reo flashes you a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your mom, smoothly steering the conversation away from the subject that had you reeling. He use to make your stomach turn upside down, a vomit form in your throat, and his smile always felt deceiving but he’s never felt more beautiful.

“Thank you for having me,” Reo says warmly, his signature smile lighting up his face as you walk him out to the gates.

“If you hadn’t come over, we’d would’ve had some leftover pork,” you grumble, stuffing your hands into your pockets to fend off the chill of the evening.

Reo chuckles, the sound soft and easy. “Oh—here,” he says, abruptly stopping to pull something from his bag. He holds out two neatly wrapped boxes, their sleek design and embossed logos practically screaming luxury. It’s so obviously Reo, and you can’t help but raise a brow as you take them from his hands with deliberate care.

“What’s this? And more importantly, how much were these?” you ask, your tone laced with suspicion as you tilt the boxes slightly, their weight surprising you.

Reo grins mischievously, his violet eyes gleaming under the streetlights. “It’s a secret,” he says with a wink, his playful tone only making your irritation rise.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you untie the elegant ribbon on one box and carefully lift the lid. Inside, nestled against a cushion of soft velvet, is a black necklace. The pendant—a sleek tooth design wrapped in a dragon’s claw—shimmers faintly, its craftsmanship intricate and unmistakably expensive.

Opening the second box, you find an identical necklace, except this one is white, the dragon’s claw seemingly carved from pearl.

Reo watches you intently, his smile softening as he explains, “You can give the other to Yuna when you two are together again.”

The mention of her name makes your hands falter for a moment, your thumb grazing the smooth edge of the white pendant. You swallow hard, unsure how to respond, but Reo’s voice is gentle now, lacking his usual teasing lilt.

“She’s still important to you, right?” he adds quietly, his gaze searching yours.

You don’t answer right away, instead staring down at the necklaces in your hands. The intricate designs seem to hold more weight than just their physical presence, as though Reo knew exactly what they represented to you.

“Yeah,” you finally mutter, your voice barely audible. “She is.”

Reo nods, his expression unreadable but somehow comforting. “Then keep them safe until the time’s right.”

Another fine morning with a bleeding sun greets your moon kissed eyes. An abundance of school air is yet to welcome your skin as soon you finish brushing away your dust collected morning breath, slipping into your school uniform, and a kiss to your mom’s cheek as you rush up. No longer being provided of the coffee smell warmed up in your house. With a creek of the gate noise opening, you would usually run off to school and meet Yuna on the way. But the most avoidant fight is still ongoing. So you’ll just head to the bus alone, right?

Well this Tuesday wasn’t the case; if Reo’s sleek, lavish black limo outside waiting for you. This would be the closest you get to a red carpet upon the earth ground accompanying your feet with rose petals delightfully scattering the scene, and white flashes, that even sunglasses can’t behold, blind your eyes. How’d he get it to be so shiny? A question only the dirty wealth can answer you guessed. Nagi’s white messy hair is spotted, engraved into his cell phone games. The LED lights inside make his hair almost colorful. Then Reo slips out of the limo, feet on the ground, a signature smile vibrantly stunning you “Good Morning”

You stood silent as the rest of the bread crumps in your mouth were being chewed away. “What is that”

“What is what?” His dumbfound act made you rise an eyebrow, a sign of impatience's for a simple answer already “Obviously it’s a limo but you didn’t say you were going to pick me up in a limo, I thought kids do that for dances”

“Well a lot can benefit you now that you’re with me my love”

“Can you not call me that?’

“I was kidding—” You quickly pinch the skin on Reo’s ear then slide into the limo, resting your bag by your hip as Nagi still makes love with his gaming. Following behind was a heart-broken, wounded, rich boy. “Now my ear is red, that hurt” He whines childishly, attacking a pout towards you.

“Is baby gonna cry?” You tease back into his childish manner “you basically broke my nose last week you should be a good”

“That was an accident!”

“Womp womp” The car— or rather the limo takes off, away from your home gates directing to where you’d have to face the unavoidable quiet fight.

“We’re already here?” You lean against the window, staring across the school field and building, the hundreds of other girls and boys in school uniform entering into which you bestowed a synonym for hell.

The car door swings open, revealing a tall, older woman whose posture is strikingly upright despite the evident weight of her years. Her appearance is imposing, her sharp, angular features framed by thin wisps of silver hair tucked neatly. Across her face is a long, hooked nose—a feature some might whimsically describe as a "witch’s nose,"

The sunlight pours in through the open door, momentarily blinding you as you squint against the glare. Then, out of the dazzling light, Reo’s hand extends toward you, his fingers steady and inviting. He stands there, looking every bit the part of a fairytale prince in shining armor, though instead of a sword, he wields his signature charm.

“Shall we?” he asks, his voice warm and smooth, his smile effortlessly disarming. Without missing a beat, you swat his hand away with a quick, decisive motion. “I can walk on my own,” you mutter, brushing yourself off as you step out of the car.

Reo’s smile doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows wider, his amusement evident in the glint of his violet eyes. “I thought we needed to act all lovey in front of these people,” he says, his tone laced with playful exasperation.

Your brow furrows as you turn to him, crossing your arms. “No one’s in front of us?” you fire back, your voice sharp but carrying an edge of curiosity.

Reo sighs dramatically, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair as if your defiance is the greatest challenge of his life. “Let’s just go,” he says, his tone a mix of resignation and humor, gesturing toward the imposing building ahead. As soon as you take a step into the school grounds a line of students is in awe, cheering, reeling with an immense amount of joy to the sight of the famous future Mikage heir. You glance at the crowd and then back at him, unimpressed. “Are these your friends or fans?” you mutter, your tone dry as you watch a group of students practically fawn over his every step. Reo flashes you a grin, his violet eyes glinting with mischief. “Can I say both?” he quips, lifting a hand in a casual wave. The gesture earns a fresh round of squeals, and you roll your eyes so hard you swear you hear them creak

“Put your arm around me,” he whispers suddenly, leaning closer so only you can hear.

Your steps falter, and you whip your head toward him. “What?”

“Just do it,” he insists, his voice low but commanding, the smirk on his lips never quite fading.

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicion flaring. “So Nagi can third-wheel? No.” Your tone is sharp, almost venomous.

Reo chuckles under his breath, completely unfazed. “He’s just on his phone, as usual,” he says, nodding toward the tall, silver-haired figure loitering nearby with his gaze glued to his screen. “Remember the plan,” he adds, his tone firm but with an edge of exasperation, as though he can’t believe he has to remind you.

You hesitate, glaring at his outstretched arm like it’s the most revolting thing you’ve ever seen. Your disgust is palpable, but so is the growing pressure of the watchful crowd, their murmurs and curious stares intensifying.

With a resigned sigh, you step closer, wrapping your arm around his with all the enthusiasm of someone being sentenced to a lifetime of chores. Reo, on the other hand, moves with effortless ease, draping his arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“There,” he whispers, his tone light and teasing. “See? Was that so hard?”

You glance up at him, your glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “I already regret this.”

He chuckles, the sound soft and infuriatingly smug, and together, the two of you walk further onto the school grounds, every pair of eyes on campus following your every step. “Is this how it is everyday?”

“What do you mean?”

“The attention, all the stares?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Never mind, of course you’d like it”

Upon your arrival into your regular classroom, students of boys and girls applaud for the two pretty individuals relationship, your holding hearted arms, and oh-so loving eyes, pleading with help to begone already- your arms entwined and expressions... less than thrilled.

“LOVEBIRDS!” a group of jock boys shouts from the back, their voices loud and obnoxious. One of them even makes exaggerated kissing noises, prompting laughter from their friends. Your shoulders stiffen, and your pleading eyes scream for this to end already. But Reo, ever the charmer, seems entirely at ease, raising a hand in a mock wave as if he’s royalty greeting his adoring subjects.

Before you can untangle yourself from his arm, two girls rush up to you both, their faces lit with uncontainable excitement. One has sleek black pigtails, her uniform pristine, and the other, shorter with flowy hair and bubbly eyes, practically bounces on her toes. They block your path with beaming smiles that already give away what they’re about to say.

“Is it true?” the one with pigtails asks breathlessly. “You two are really in a relationship?”

You glance at Reo, who looks back at you expectantly, leaving the answer entirely in your hands. His smirk widens slightly, clearly entertained by your discomfort.

“Yes,” you say with a forced smile, nodding coaxingly. What else could you say or do?

The girls gasp in unison, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” the shorter one squeals. “You two are like... the it couple!”

“Totally!” the other agrees, her eyes sparkling with delight. “When did it happen? How did it happen? Was it love at first sight?”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Your brain scrambles to come up with something remotely convincing, but all you can think about is how much you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Reo steps in smoothly, his tone effortlessly charming. “It’s a long story, maybe one for another time?” he says, flashing them one of his signature grins. His hands intertwines with you, the casual gesture almost too natural, and pulls you gently along with him toward your seat.

The room buzzes faintly, filled with whispers and muffled giggles, but you’re too focused on maintaining your composure to care. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Across the room, another group of girls huddles together, their heads bent close, their voices toxic in their secrecy yet deliberately loud enough to be overheard.

“Yuna, look,” Naomi breathes, her words sharp despite the hushed tone. She leans closer to her companion, the stale scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

Yuna’s delicate head lifts at the mention of your name, her gaze drifting reluctantly toward you. Her eyes settle on your figure, seated beside Reo, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair. The sight of his violet hair close to your own makes her stomach twist, though her expression remains unreadable.

“There she goes,” Naomi sneers, her lips curling as she watches the interaction from afar. “Do you think she’s just using his money?”

“Oh, definitely,” another girl chimes in, her tone dripping with malice.

Naomi smirks, leaning back in her chair as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. Her eyes gleam with a dangerous combination of curiosity and cruelty as she turns to Yuna. “What do you think, Yuna? She was your friend, wasn’t she?”

Yuna hesitates, her gaze dropping to the desk in front of her. Her fingers grip the edge of it, her knuckles faintly white. “Yeah... definitely,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Encouraged by Yuna’s response, Naomi presses on, her tone growing even more poisonous. “Hey, didn’t you say her mom was, like, 32? Doesn’t that mean she got pregnant at 16?”

The question hangs in the air, sharp and cutting, and Naomi blinks her lashes expectantly at Yuna, as if waiting for her approval to unleash another round of insults.

Yuna swallows hard, her voice faltering as she murmurs, “Yeah...” The word is so quiet it’s almost swallowed by the hum of the classroom, but it carries a weight that Yuna can’t seem to shake. Naomi’s laughter, soft but biting, echoes in her ears. Meanwhile, with you, Reo, and Nagi, all remain settled down 10 minutes before class starts. “You can let go now” you nudge Reo softly

“Oh, right” You feel the faintest trace of his skin as he begins to pull away, the touch so subtle yet noticeable enough to make your chest tighten. It’s maddeningly slow, a deliberate yet unspoken hesitation that leaves you caught in a moment you don’t fully understand.

Your instincts urge you to slap his hand away, to break the strange tension that lingers in the air between you. And yet, for some reason, your subconscious betrays you, allowing his touch to linger just a little longer. You hold your breath without realizing it, suspended in the warmth of the fleeting contact until reality strikes, sharp and undeniable, breaking the spell.

You clear your throat, turning away sharply as if to shake off the lingering feeling. Reo’s hand retreats fully now, his expression unreadable but his smirk faintly returning as he leans back in his chair.

.

.

.

erm hi

[doodle-pops]

Just A Hug…And One Kiss

Námo x reader

Request: Hello! Could you please write a fic with Namo? Something sweet and fluffy, maybe reader drags him from work to a date night, with a romantic dinner and cuddles afterwards? Our lovely judge needs some love and affection. Thank you and have a beautiful day!

A/N: Thank you the request so I can write more Námo content, anon!

Warnings: none, fluff

Words: 1.5k

Synopsis: You convinced your overworking husband to let go for one evening and relax.

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You found yourself standing in the grand chamber where he often spent long hours contemplating and recording the fates of the dead. The space was vast and imposing, its stone walls carved with intricate patterns that glowed faintly with an otherworldly light. There, Námo sat at a large stone table, his dark hair flowing over his shoulders as he pored over yet another decision. His piercing green eyes were fixed on a glowing scroll before him, his sharp features illuminated by its soft light. He looked every bit the formidable Judge of the Dead, but to you, he was simply Námo—the one who had captured your heart.

“You’re working late again,” you said softly, breaking the heavy silence.

Námo’s head lifted slightly, his eyes meeting yours. He did not sigh, nor did he frown, but you could see the faintest flicker of weariness in his gaze. “There is much to be done,” he replied in his deep, measured voice. “It cannot wait.”

You stepped closer, the hem of your robes brushing against the smooth stone floor. “It can wait for one evening,” you insisted gently, placing a hand on the edge of the table. “You’ve been at this for days without pause. You need a break.”

Elegantly, he raised a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “The souls entrusted to me do not rest, nor do they delay in arriving. My duty is to—”

“Your duty,” you interrupted, though your tone was soft and teasing, “will be there tomorrow. Tonight, however, your duty is to me.”

His expression shifted slightly, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, reaching out to grasp his shoulders and massage his tense muscles. You felt him stiffened slightly before relaxing under your touch as your fingers worked. “You work harder than anyone I know, but even the Judge of the Dead deserves an evening to himself now and then. Let me take care of you for a change.”

“I have responsibilities—”

“And I have plans,” you interrupted with a firm tone yet affectionate. “Plans that involve you, my dear husband, stepping away from all of this,”—you gestured at the desk piled high with documents—“and spending an evening with me.”

There was the barest hint of a smile threatening to break through his stoicism. “And what, may I ask, do these plans entail?”

You leaned down, placing your chin on his shoulders, and slid your hands down his arms. “Dinner,” you said softly, “a proper one. Followed by a quiet night together. No scrolls. No souls. Just us.”

For a moment, he said nothing, simply studying you with those piercing eyes of his. You could see the conflict there, the instinct to protest warring with the desire to give in to your request. Finally, he sighed—a sound that was more resigned than exasperated. “You’re persuasive.”

You grinned, straightening and holding out your hand to him. “Only because I love you. Now, come on. Don’t make me drag you out of this chair.”

With a quiet chuckle, Námo took your hand and allowed you to pull him to his feet. His tall, imposing frame towered over you, but the way he gazed at you—gentle, almost reverent—made you feel as though you held all the power in the world.

The dining room you had prepared was far removed from the austere grandeur of Mandos. It was warm and inviting, lit by the gentle glow of candles placed in elegant holders. A table stood in the centre of the room, adorned with a simple yet charming arrangement of flowers and a delicious spread of food that you had painstakingly prepared. The scents of roasted vegetables, freshly baked bread, and spiced wine filled the air, creating an atmosphere of comfort and intimacy.

Námo followed you into the room, his sharp features softening as he took in the sight. “You did all this for me?” he asked quietly with a touched of genuine surprise.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling as you guided him to a seat. “You deserve it.”

“I can’t imagine you cooking all this yourself,” he teased.

“Excuse me,” you retorted, feigning offence and lifting a hand to your chest. “I’ll have you know I spent hours on this. Blood, sweat, and tears, my love. Blood, sweat, and tears.”

“Is that so?” he replied, one dark brow arching. “I suppose I should commend your effort, then.”

“You should,” you said, nodding emphatically. “And if you’re not careful, I might make you do the dishes.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and you could have sworn you saw the ghost of a smile. “I shudder to think of such punishment. The Great Doomsman washing dishes,” he humorous muttered. “How poetic. If my brother ever catches a whiff of me washing dishes, I will never know peace.”

He sat down, his movements as fluid and precise as ever, but you noticed the way his posture relaxed slightly as he settled into the chair. You took the seat opposite him, pouring wine into his goblet before filling your own. The two of you clinked glasses, the sound ringing softly through the room.

As the meal began, Námo allowed himself to enjoy the food, his usual restraint giving way to a more relaxed demeanour. You chatted easily, steering the conversation away from his work and instead focusing on lighter topics—the beauty of the stars that evening, a memory from your shared past, a funny story you had heard earlier in the week. And he listened intently, his lips curving into a faint smile at your words.

At one point, when you reached across the table to brush a crumb from his cheek, he caught your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingertips. The simple gesture sent a shiver of warmth through you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You spoil me,” he said with a tinged of rare vulnerability.

“Someone has to,” you teased. “And I’ll do it as often as I can.”

“I had forgotten how pleasant it is to simply...be,” he admitted after a while, his voice thoughtful. “To enjoy a meal without the weight of responsibility pressing down.”

“That’s why I wanted to do this for you,” you said softly. “You give so much of yourself to others, Námo. It’s only fair that someone gives back to you.”

His fingers instinctively tightened around yours, his touch warmer now after the meal. He looked at you with a desire that made your breath catch, his viridian eyes filled with a depth of emotion he rarely showed. “You are a gift,” he said quietly, his words carrying a weight that made your heart swell. “One I do not deserve, but one I am endlessly grateful for.”

You felt a heat rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, Námo rose from his seat, holding out his hand to you. “Come,” he said. “Let us leave this table behind and simply enjoy each other’s company.”

As he led you out the dining room, you two of you ended up in a smaller sitting room, where a plush sofa and a warm hearth awaited. He sat down first, his long, dark robes flowing around him as he leaned back against the cushions. You joined him, curling up at his side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The warmth of the flames and the steady rise and fall of Námo’s chest beneath your hand created a cocoon of comfort and peace. For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in each other’s presence.

“I cannot remember the last time I felt so at ease,” he admitted eventually. His fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, his touch light and soothing. “You have a way of quieting even the most restless parts of my spirit.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “That’s what love does,” you replied. “It makes even the heaviest burdens feel lighter.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. Then he turned to you with an expression uncharacteristically open and vulnerable. “You remind me of the light before the first music,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Pure, untainted, and full of endless possibilities. When I’m with you, it feels as though I am standing in that light once more.”

“You and your rare, sweet words,” you chuckled as you reached up to run your finger along his jawline. “What would I do without them.”

His lips curved into a small, affectionate smile as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. In response, you tilted your head up, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft and tender. There was a fleeting moment when you sensed the final weight on his shoulders dissipating.

When you pulled back, his eyes were closed, casting a serene expression. “It seems I have received far more than I deserve tonight.”

You laughed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve everything,” you said firmly. “And I’ll spend every day reminding you of that if I have to.”

“You have humbled me, my love,” he whispered. “I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will spend every moment I have trying to be worthy of you.”

“You already are,” you reassured. “And you always will be.”

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