#ruthlessness is ruthless more at six

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

love that, in the Odyssey, there's one suitor (Leodes) who very specifically didn’t do anything wrong. he didn’t eat too much food, he didn’t harass the staff, he didn’t plot to kill Telemachus. and when Odysseus starts killing suitors, he begs for mercy because he was always respectful and kind and even tried to stop the other suitors from being like that

and I love that Odysseus was like “you were trying to marry my wife tho” and immediately kills him

[skitskatdacat63]

Please save me, I'm reading a reddit thread about Seb vs Max(bcs Tost said he thought Seb would win out), and none of these people know how good Seb was in his prime

[bravest]

six and mono are the most iconic black cat / golden retriever duo . to me

[tonycries]

BRAT!

Synopsis. Scream it! While he’s still asking nicely, that is…

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, getting reader to not be quiet in béd, CÚMPLAY, spítting, Sukuna’s second tongue, oraI (fem rec), pússydrunk boys, squírting, six eyes, face-sítting, pússy-slappíng, true form Sukuna, chokíng, markíng, exhíbitionism (Nanami), víbrators, dp, slight voice kínks, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Love y’all, have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Let it all out!

“Doll…” he drawls out, that tiny scar at the end of his smirk dragging roughly against your glossy pout. And when Toji’s given nothing more than a few of your muffled, bit-back whimpers, he’s insisting - begging, “My stubborn girl-”

Five thick fingers wrap delicately around your neck - jostling your fucked-out expression up to his greedy gaze, “Cat got yer tongue?” As if to fuck the answer out of you, his hips are ramming angrily, knocking rawly into your bruised g-spot. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hah- fucked dumb already? Wha’s the problem, ma?”

It’s been hours now, and Toji’s absolutely wrecked - blood thumping in his ears, broad chest heaving with short rasps, stars bursting behind his half-lidded eyes after each sloppy thrust. And, yet, he still has enough sanity left to notice when you’re biting down brattily on your knuckles, throat tight with all those sweet moans being held back. 

See, that’s when Toji gets impatient. 

“Fine- be as quiet as your pretty lil’ heart desires, then.” Your eyes are widening at the mushy twitch of his rotund tip - still leaky, still angry. “We’ll see how long that lasts, anyway.”

Just that dark little promise is enough to make you keen - and he’s chuckling, “Now now- what did I say-” Those soft pads of his fingers glide up in a gentle curve towards your lips - but the way he just shoves them inside is anything but. Rounded tips constricting into the very back of your throat, “Ya wanna be quiet? Then, commit to it like the big girl you are.”

Big fat tears spring up to your eyes when he’s hiking a powerful thigh up, pressurizing the ruthless pace of his achy cock even more. Bullying into your velvety walls like he was angry, knocking all the air in your lungs with every glide of his swelteringly hot head along your cervix. 

“Hngh-” you gurgle past his swirling fingers. Your nails piercing ravaged red lines where you’re gripping helplessly onto his wrist, “T-To-ah!”

There’s such a deafening squelch gushing out of your messy cunt when the mean digits on his free hand push down about halfway at your stomach, feeling for the branding little nudge of his fat cock. Toji’s mouth drops in awe at the milky white coating of his cum. Dredge after dredge soiling your inner thighs, forming a creamy little ring where he was pushing his thick hilt into you over and over-

“Shit-” his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy gulp. Mindlessly, he’s falling down onto his elbows in exhaustion, bending you in half like a little ragdoll underneath him. “N’ suddenly I’m the one speechless, doll- Hahah-”

The heavy thwack! thwack! thwack! of his still painfully-full balls make your head spin, and Toji’s drinking in your little gasps like a starved man. Slow, languid, eyes drooping shut. “S’this why- hngh- s’this why my girl’s bein’ so quiet all of a sudden?” Hips stuttering forwards like he was losing control, just filthy, lusted-up little half-thrusts and drags of his length down your gummy channel. Even that was too much for his poor, overworked cock - painting your insides full with his thick, translucent precum with every swallowed-up inch. “Too cockdrunk? Too hah- full of my cum t’speak?”

You were so close - so overstimulated - you could barely string together a sentence. And you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to - because your lovely boyfriend only rummaged his fingers deeper inside your mouth. Fuck- it felt so dirty having him fuck you like this - spitting against your lips, twitchy cock mashing deep into all your sensitive spots. Like he was reaching into your lungs - into your barely-lucid mind until you couldn’t do anything but nod. 

“Mmmpf- I-” you’re managing out, the words coming out in a thick, garbled mess that makes his cock throb. “Hngh- yes yes yes-”

“Awww, fuckin’ knew it.” he coos, and it’s all the warning you’re getting before two big strong arms of his haul you up. Falling back onto his muscled thighs in a sitting position - with you all speared like a slut down his unforgiving cockhead. Being bounced up, up, up your limp body nothing against his inhuman strength. “Shit- fuckin’ knew it- My poor girl got fucked so good she couldn’t even speak, huh?” Toji just throws his head back at the answering clench of your elastic walls, molding around each one of his ridges and veins. “How cute–” 

You cower under his weighty gaze, unable to escape. To do anything other than take it when his bicep bulges around your waist, tightening like a vice. “How so very-” Abs clenching when they ram- up- “cute-” He’s gritting his teeth, baring you with such a sweet, sultry smile, one that ghosts the very shell of your ear, “But why don’t you jus’ cum f’me now, ma.”

You don’t know whether his own words have Toji reaching his high - or maybe the sight of you does. Because all you see is black tinging your vision - then white, seeping out of the corners of your puffed-up folds, sopping a wet puddle into the non-existent space between you two.

He’s so vocal when he fucks you through your orgasm, raspy baritone wrenching out little praises like a mantra- “Yeah- yeah there we go. Louder f’me- scream it all out. I know you can do it.”

“P-please, Toji.” You don’t know what you’re begging for - and Toji doesn’t mind. Only pinning your body to his hulking one, holding you so close that your whimpered out moans are almost inaudible over his cushiony pecs. Babbling out, “Please- f-fuck it feels too good hah- m’cumming- m’cumming m’cumming-”

“Such a chatty girl, moanin’ so fuckin’ loud.” he titters. “Don’t you dare hold back that pretty voice from me, m’kay?” 

But only when your orgasm bates into tiny tingles, only when your syrupy sweet moans turn quieten down - only then does Toji pull away. Shuffling onto his knees until his hot breath was fanning your eagerly quivering cunt, soft tongue dragging up your painted white slit, “So let’s see if you scream twice as loud for this, my girl.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shhh…

“My love…” Nanami breathes out in a ragged pant, his hot breath breezing down your spine. Arching up so sultrily when the pistons of his hips slow down, aching for more more more- “Is something hah- wrong?”

It takes you a second to raise your bleary head up from where it rested amongst all the papers on the desk, the satin of your office skirt hiking up even further when you’re rutting your hips back in a quiet tandem. “N-nothing, Ken–” your words come out hushed - hurried. 

And oh your husband looked so unfairly attractive when he was concerned, blond brows furrowing in the middle, running one hand through his disarrayed hair, the other pulling your teary eyes up to his. “You’re just being so-” There’s an experimental mash of his fat, rounded tip into your mapped-out g-spot, as if to confirm his suspicions. And Nanami grunts at the sight of you biting down on your lower lip, “-quiet…Now now-” His thumb comes to gently pry away your worried lip from under your teeth, “-what’s wrong?”

“S’jus’-” you hiccup, eyes flitting to the closed storage room door. “-m’ so close n’ someone might hear. I know Higuruma also has overtime-”

Shit - you’re so far into your little rant that you don’t notice the way his entire body stiffens, jaw clenching at the mention of your - and his - coworker. You can only gasp when Nanami’s towering figure just shoves you deeper into the cool mahogany desk. One hand on your head, the other wrapped nicely around your blabbering mouth.

“You’re right-” Nanami breathes, words tinted with a slow, dangerous purr. And it makes your velvety walls just seep a fresh gloss of your sweet sweet juices down all his long, hard inches. “-better not make a noise unless you want to get caught then, because m’not going easy on you today, darling.”

And fuck, Nanami likes to think himself a practical man - a sensible man, even. But right now all he could see was red - nothing past the way that other man had been eying you a little too closely these days, laughing at your jokes a little too loud. 

Don’t get him twisted, he knows you’d never do anything - you were his pretty lil’ wife after all, the love of his absolute soul. But sometimes, he just wanted to make you scream it out. 

Your pretty eyes bat hypnotically over your shoulder, “K-Ken- oh!”

Only to be shut up by the furious pummeling of all his rock-hard shaft, the sheer girth of it already making you keen. It’s enough for honeyed moans to bubble up in your throat, ticking in time with that angry pulsing of his thick tip massaging your plushy walls. 

“Shh shhh-” Nanami coos, and you feel his abs ripple from behind you when he leans his weight down, down, down to pin you even more helplessly against the desk. Those thick fingers of his cover your mouth even firmer, “We hafta be quiet, remember?”

If he was looking for an answer, then Nanami fully and thoroughly fucks it out of you. 

Those important documents are shuffling around everywhere, flying off the desk when you’re scrambling towards absolutely anything to keep just an ounce of your sanity. Because Nanami was hammering into you in such powerful, pressurized thrusts. Hard enough that you could feel the line of his hip bones along the fat of your ass, the circular smacks of his heavy balls along your thighs. Sure to leave marks that that sinfully short skirt of yours wouldn’t cover. 

“Ken! Ken- oh my god-” 

All you get in response is the sudden slowing of his mean pace, until your heady moans are softening down to mere whimpers. 

It still feels so dizzyingly good this way, having your snug hole stretch limitlessly around his girthy shaft. Knocking so deeply and thoroughly against your womb, clenching your saturated walls down with every graze of the neat tufts of blond at his hilt. 

“What did I say?” His mouth comes down onto yours in a heated clash of teeth and tongue and moans. So many rasping grunts furling from out of Nanami’s throat, spitting into your mouth, “Hafta- be hah- quiet. Or else Higuruma is- gonna- hear-” 

And that hypnotizing push and pull is punctuated by the greedy drag of Nanami’s thumb down your clit, spelling out little patterns. Over and over-

Thud!

“Hah- I don’t-” you’re startling when he hikes up a leg onto the desk, the change in angle making you all but scream out into his ravenous mouth. “Don’t think I even- care anymore ah!” Every one of those syrupy sweet moans falling from your lips have Nanami hammering in even deeper, rattling the desk with his strength. “Just wanna- just want you to-”

You’re gasping at the familiar work of his fingers on your sensitive nub - a flurry of letters all over. K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-

“Say it.” he bites down on your earlobe. “Spell it out f’me.”

“M-m’gonna-”

K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-

“Scream it out, no need to be embarrassed.”

“Cum!” you’re sobbing. Heaving for air when he doesn’t take even a second to slow down, “M’gonna cum, Ken. M’so f-fuckin’ close.”

His next words are murmured at the crook of your neck, dangerously above your racing pulse. Making you flinch at the sharp teeth indenting over your skin, “Then cum.”

Oh and when you do it’s like something snaps. Because all you know next is that you’re being fucked through such a delicious high. White-hot pleasure having you quivering deeper into Nanami’s hold, dragging out each one of your peaks. Your throat feels raw, head swimming so much that you almost don’t hear-

“Just the way I like you.” Leaving a lingering peck at your collarbone, “All gorgeous and-” At the sensitive underside of your jaw, “-blissed out and-” Before you’re jumping at sharp canines sinking down into the side of your neck. Hard. Possessive. 

It hurts - but it hurts so good that you don’t even register the way Nanami’s eyes flit to the door - slightly ajar now. Voice rising in volume when he finishes, “-mine.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - We’ll piss off the neighbors

“Mmpf- S-Sugu…”

“S-S-Sugu-” your beloved boyfriend is just leering, his velvety voice pitched dramatically high. Shoving apart your dangling legs so burningly wide to bully that furiously shuddering hot-pink vibrator even deeper inside your insatiable cunt. 

He’s grinning such a dangerous grin down at you, “Now, why don’t you lemme hear those pretty moans of yours like usual, gorgeous- instead of holding back?”

And all you can do is squirm around mindlessly when he’s feeding your sloppy cunt inch after smooth inch of more of the thin vibrator. Rummaging around your clingy walls so much, “Come on now-” A taunting thumb of his glides along the intensity meter - Setting 1, Setting 2. Before finally resting smugly on Setting 3. Long, dark lashes bat at you, “You’re breaking my heart here!”

“P-please!” you sob out, before immediately worrying your lower lip shut. And Geto notices - of course, he does. The determined smirk on his face turning into something a little colder, a little more predatory. 

“Aww, my poor baby doesn’t wanna speak with me.” he’s goading, leaving your plushy walls stretched full with the blissful girth of the vibrator. Letting you all but cockwarm it while he’s running a rigorous thumb over your puffed-up clit, “Tha’s fine. Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna- get.” 

Geto’s sharp tongue is running lewd stripes up and down the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the corners of your lips as if he isn’t driving you insane. As if he isn’t driving himself insane. The achy, fat tip of his reddened cock kissing wetly at your glossy folds, weeping hot precum that sticks to your slit, trickling down the buried hilt of the vibrator. Oh, how he knew - had planned out - exactly how he was going to make you scream. 

But for now, he’s only pursing his lips together, letting you babble and whine unfairly to yourself. 

“S’not- not that I hngh!” your entire body jolts when he’s wordlessly increasing the intensity - Setting 4. Nervous eyes flitting down to where Geto’s lengthy cock was sitting prettily across your open legs, throbbing. Waiting. “Jus’ the neighbors- hah- we got another noise complaint, Sugu–”

He still doesn’t budge, still doesn’t say a word. This time his fingers are toying your finger even sloppier. Tweaking and circles lazily along the sensitive nub, making you all but scream-

“Please- I promise-” you’re bucking your hips up for more more more. Feeling the sopping smack! of his hefty shaft come down on your skin, splattering translucent dredges of his syrupy precum all over your skin. “Promise s’jus’ that Sugu.” Shaky fingers of yours wrap around his long, inky hair - hauling him close to meet your lips, and you could feel the ridges of Geto’s toothy grin when you crack, “Feels so good- too good. N’- jus’ want your cock- hngh! Promise was jus’ trynna be quiet because the walls are th-thin and the-”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart, such a thick intrusion to your already filled-up cunt. Soft, supple walls being contorted around the vibrating toy - and Geto’s addition of his thick, weepy tip. 

“Say please, then.”

You’re so completely and utterly fucked out that you barely even hear him at first - body moving before your mind when your lips sag open. Jumbling out a mess of, “P-please.”

“Hmmm…” Geto pretends to think, but he’s still circling open your elastic entrance to fit his needy cock inside. Taking it slow, sensual - making sure your silky sweet walls are rubbing against each and every one of the prominent veins down his middle, the rotund end of his head shoving its way inside. “S’not ‘nough - how about ‘please, Sugu’?”

“Please, Sugu!” Your nails claw their way down his broad, milky shoulders - leaving red, red marks that make him groan. That make his hips jut forward in a solid, thorough thrust, “Please- d-don’t care about the n-noise complaints hah- jus’ wanna be full of all of you.”

Geto doesn’t know if he can move, fuck, he doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. Eyes widening, head thrown back at the slightest feeble clench of your velvety walls desperately trying to accommodate around his cock and the vibrator. 

It takes beat - two, of him grinding in filthy gyrating motions, abs flexing when his slender waist surges forward. All the way until that divot at his tip was branding into your spongy cervix, painful, cum-filled balls sticking thoroughly against your ass. Somehow, he’s managing to roll his eyes, “D-didn’t hafta hah- say that much, gorgeous.”

There’s a sharp flick! 

Setting 5. 

The heady room is instantly filled by both of your moans - so loud. Yours higher-pitched and cracking pathetically at the end, Geto’s throaty, like they were being dragged from his throat against his will. 

Immediately, he bores down at you with a bit lower lip, eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth curled up in what almost seems like a smile. “Guess I better quiet down myself- hngh- huh?” he gasps - heaves - tremors of the vibrator rubbing up so deliciously at the underside of his throbbing shaft, jostling with each hastening ram into your gushing cunt. “B-because now that I finally got you to scream out f’me-” 

You’re mewling when his thumb comes up uncharacteristically gently to swipe away your own lips from underneath your teeth - a habit, almost, at this point after you’d gotten a very huffy email about being too disruptive at night. Like right now. “-I don’t wan’ ta hear anythin’ else. And that includes noise complaints - because soon m’gonna move ya to our own house, pretty, don’t ya worry. And there-” Your forehead is branded with a soft kiss, your g-spot with a rough ram. “-you can scream as much as ya want.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please please please.”

Choso couldn’t stop even if he tried - he couldn’t hold back even one of those broken, whiny pleas wrenching from his rosy pink lips. So loud, deep voice pitching up highly at the end every time the weepy divot at the very end of his fat tip reached into the spongy bottom of your pussy. 

“Baby- please, baby–” he drags out your sweet little nickname, two of his sizeable palms coming to splay out on the curve of your hips. Just dragging your gummy cunt down like a cocksleeve, helping you ride him in easy, relentless grinds. “Does it feel good? Tell me- does it- hah-”

His breath hitches with a sudden shudder when your fingernails dig into the side of his pale neck, using the leverage to just ram your cunt down in thorough, hypnotic gyrations.

“Please!” Choso’s gasping, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re jostling slightly precariously on his slender hips when he’s planting two feet flat on the silky sheets to buck up, up up- “Tell me- tell me how it feels, baby.”

Your fingers tighten involuntarily at the sound of his greedy beg, making him let out such a guttural groan. The sound sends shivers running along your spine, all the way down to where he was jackhammering into your ravaged cunt. Thumbing apart your swollen folds to keep them spread enough for him to bully his girthy hilt into. So depraved. Needy. “S-so good, Cho-”

It was an accident - really - you didn’t even mean to let the little compliment slip. But it’s enough for Choso’s eager cock to expand even girthier inside you, all the blood in his body rushing to stretch your elastic walls to their limits. You could feel him everywhere, molding you to the very shape of his cock. 

“Yeah? Oh yeah?” he’s hissing, craning his neck up to mesh your lips together sloppily. Languid, delirious - kiss-bitten lips smacking when they’re sucking on your lolled-out tongue. Fuck, how he missed your voice. “Tell me- ngh! Tell me more, please.”

Oh, but really - your sweet sweet boyfriend was so pretty like this underneath you. Milky skin damp with sweat, his dark eyes dewy with tears and locked on you, mouth parting open in ragged grunts. Your favorite little melody - it made the way you bite your lip stubbornly all the more sweeter. 

There’s another glissading stream of his sweltering hot precum coating your inner walls, sloshing around in a syrupy slow rhythm inside you. “Please-” He’s crying out again after a few more branding smashes into your bulging g-spot  - lips wobbly as if he was on the verge of bawling without your voice. “Wanna hear your sweet moans, y’know? S’my f-favorite song-”

And you swear your hulking boyfriend’s mouth was upturned into such a pretty pout at that very second, soft planes of his hands caressing up and down your bent thighs. You can’t help but hum, making his head feel so lightheaded with that teasing quirk of your lips.

Or maybe it was the way your fingers clamped down tighter around his neck, sure to leave a perfect array of bruises from your splayed-out fingers. Jerking him even closer- “Fine- open that mouth if you love my voice so much.” 

You’re barely even finishing the sentence before his jaw slacks open, tongue darting out - just in time to catch the steady glob of syrupy saliva you spit out. Right onto the middle of his tastebuds, Choso’s immediately slotting his mouth against yours in an even greedier mess of a kiss. 

“Didn’t think you- hngh! like my voice that much, baby.” you’re humming, letting him hurl into a frenzy of powerful mashes into your g-spot. Some missing - drawing long, eager glides of his rounded, thick head along your cervix. “I like yours too, y’know. So much.” Leaving a lingering drag of his jutted-out bottom lip between your teeth, “S’why I ah- hngh- held back- love hearin’ you.”

And oh, every honeyed word of yours goes straight into twitchy cock, pulsing painfully into your mushy walls. Curving upwards so deliciously, Choso’s hold on you tightens - enough to draw blood, you might think, had he not cut his nails just earlier. 

He’s fucking upwards into you so solidly hard - feverish drags of you down his massive length only getting rougher and rougher until he couldn’t-

“Don’t do that, silly girl- mm- can’t live without hearing those cute moans of yours, m’kay?” Big fat tears gloss down his sharp cheeks with how stimulated he was right now, and you could feel the weighty shifting of his balls. So tight they almost felt like they could burst. “So be loud. Be as loud as possible f’me- tell me how it feels, how you ah- want more- a-and-” His fingers now cup your face, leaving all the laborious duty down to his frantic hips. Yet, Choso didn’t mind - anything that let him glide a thumb along your spit-glossed mouth, tugging out your bottom lip from where you were trapping it between your teeth, “-and say my name.”

You do - and it’s just about all you can manage out when you’re leering down to bite on Choso’s sensitive earlobe. Exactly where you knew would make him shiver the most, rutting up animalistically to bounce you up even deeper, “Then cum f’me, Cho.”

And he thinks he will - fuck, at the sound of his name rolling off your saccharine sweet tongue he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. But not before teasing a hard roll of his thumb along your clit, “F-fuck you little- ah! You first, since you’ve been hah- holdin’ out on me. N’ this time-” His glinting eyes narrow, sharp canines bared in such a viciously fucked-out grin that it makes you clamp down - hard, “-you’re gonna be the one hngh- crying out, baby–”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - CHATTERBOX!

Now, usually when Sukuna had you all splayed out like this - your trembly thighs balanced on either side of his head, puffy pussy lips so sopping wet it made his mouth water - he knew you’d let out a few pretty noises. 

A mewl when his hot tongue laps up the syrupy juices sopping from either side of your slit, a moan of his name when all he does is card the very edge of his soft muscle between them. And finally - finally - his favorite, a whiny beg for, “P-please, Kuna- no more teasing!”

How cute. 

When you miss the first - he doesn’t think much of it, instead too engrossed in thumbing apart your swollen folds, admiring the way your greedy cunt was already glistening and winking down at him so sweetly. Spitting a fat wad of his saliva right on the bullseye of your entrance. When you miss the second, he’s concerned, humming a raspy growl at the back of his throat while wrapping two plump lips around your throbbing clit. 

And when you miss that last one - oh, now you’re gonna get it. 

Smack! 

All give digits of his thick fingers come down hard on your hovering pussy, sliding a glistening syrupy wet sheen down to his wrist. 

“S’this boring to you, woman?” the famed king of cures spits his words with a low, threatening rumble of his sculpted chest. And it’s all you can do to throb, whirling your glassy eyes down at his half-lidded, darkened gaze, “Anything else you’d rather be doing right now?” 

You’re shaking your head deliriously - but that’s not enough for him, of course. 

There’s another oozing little throb from your cunt - rewarded with another branding smack! across your sensitive clit. “Don’ wanna use your big girl words, hm?” Sukuna raises a brow, still holding such dangerous eye contact with you when he hollows out his cheeks, long tongue lolling out to make out with your pussy. “Fine then- let’s let this cute pussy speak for herself, hm?”

There’s only a drawn-out, sloppy squelch ringing through the heady air when he lays his tongue flat across your glossy lips. Just teasing around the very edge of your gushy entrance before the very tip of him dances up, up, up.

“Hngh!” you’re gasping at the feeling of him grazing over your clit in a sultry push and pull - and the sudden wetness of something else swirling around your syrupy sweet hole. “Wh- is that-”

“Shhh, didn’t ya wanna stay quiet, brat?” Sukuna cuts through your words, velvety coo making you just arch down harder to drag your slobbering cunt all across his eager face. And where that mean mouth of his was teasing you, his other - larger - tongue on his stomach was picking up wherever left off. More, even. “So shut up and let this pussy talk, why don’t ya?”

Ah, it was impossible to escape him. Two big beefy hands were steadied firmly around your quaking thighs, hauling you right onto his swallowing mouth, grinding you against his jaw like his favorite meal. You’re being bounced, almost on top of him - his other tongue driving you insane. 

Reaching all the spots you could’ve never even imagined. Arching into you almost as deftly as his cocks, bullying past your puffy lips and into every bulbous areas of your sensitive spots. Fucking you so thoroughly-

“Hey-” There’s another reminder - one of Sukuna’s free hands planting a solid smack onto the very bulge of your elastic walls around his tongue. “Think she said she’s getting close- Almost didn’t hngh- catch it ‘cause you’re being a bit too hah-” He’s craning his thick neck back in for a messy kiss against your clit. “-loud-” Again. And again and again- plump smirk glittered with all your sweet sweet juices. “-dontcha think?” Smack! You’re whining in response, drunken hips pushing down as if to shut him up, “S’like you want to hngh- moan f’me. If you wanna then why are ya being so- fuckin’- stubborn.”

And fuck, you were so far gone that Sukuna almost didn’t expect a response. Half-lidded gaze locked on the trickle of drool slobbering down your slack mouth, eyes bleary, soft whimpers barely even audible over the sinful squelches! from down below. You were so loud, so drippingly wet in each one of your noises that it has him running his free palm over the outline of his aching cocks. 

“B-because-” your wobbly voice makes his fat tips just gush out in thick ribbons of precum, seeping through the fabric of his decadent yukata and onto his fondling palm. “Felt embarrassing- the position a-and hah! got nervous I’d be too whiny or somethin’, Kuna…”

“That so?” Sukuna simpers, voice a little more silky soft than before. And the gentle smack! on your cunt reads as more fond than punishing, “Stupid brat- ya think I’d be like this if I didn’t like your pretty noises?” As if to prove his point, the two hands on your body ride you harder down his mouth. Sloppier. More depraved. “Nervous for what- s’jus’ me, y’know?” Tonguing back teasingly over your glossy clit, his eyes just bore into yours. Baritone vibrato pulsing down your achy pussy, “And I love every lil’ thing you do, my girl.”

His guttural moans are still echoing from the very base of your cunt when you cum - so hard. Violent, even, that Sukuna has to wrap his strong arms around you to keep you from escaping. It’s all your poor pussy can take. Waves of pleasure taking you away. Gushing and gushing so hard-

“Sh-shiiiit-” Sukuna utters - and it’s only then that you realize just how much you’d cum, quivering hole letting out bursts of your syrupy sweet slick. Just coating the entire lower half of his face, his cheekbones, down to his pecs in everything you’d squirted.

And while his lower tongue still laps at your honeyed juices, letting each bead slide down the muscle. He licks his lips with a sigh, “Let’s ask this gorgeous cunt if she can do that on my cocks now, too, hm? N’ this time- ya better scream f’me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up.

“Sweetheart…”

“Satoru.”

“No-” 

Maybe it was the way your sorry boyfriend was just aching to hear your sweet sweet voice moan around his name, maybe it was the way he’d been spending hours already groveling and worshiping your body. Or maybe it was the way your clingy walls just pulsed all around his weepy cock, squelching in a way that makes him salivate. 

“I told you, my girl–” he soothes out in an almost-whiny tone. Pressing an overly-wet peck at your forehead, your nose, on either side of that scolding pout on your glossed-up lips. “I’m- sorry- I’ll listen to whatever hah- gossip about your favorite show next time just please-”

Two rough hands rest at the globes of your ass, purposefully jostling your fucked-out body to face him - he wasn’t letting you escape any time soon. 

There’s the slow, lingering squelch of Gojo rolling his hips forwards in such a dizzying tandem. Shoving you further and further up those expensive silken sheets at the hotel suite he’d booked for tonight - all for his little apology. 

“I s-see that lil’ smile-” he’s grunting, forcing two fingers around your face to look right into his greedy gaze. “Aww, come on- wontcha forgive me? M’begging here- begging.” And when you’re still keeping your mouth stubbornly shut, he’s throwing your limp legs over his broad shoulders. Running a syrupy slow circle over your neglected clit, “-promise I won’t fall asleep next time ya hah- t-talk my ear off.”

You have to admit that every saturated glide of his throbbingly fat tip has your jaw slacking further and further. Honeyed moans just bursting behind your lips, he’s stretching you out so sinfully. 

And, yet, it was so fun to see the strongest all broken down like this - eyes drooping almost closed, pouty lips with a glistening sheen of spit, little whimpers sounding at the back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s knocking right into your bulged-out g-spot. It drove him absolutely insane to see you purposefully hold back your pretty moans. 

“No no no no no-” he’s frantically prying away the knuckles you’re biting down deliriously on, trying to ease out those soft little whimpers and mewls. “My stubborn girl.” Pecking lingeringly at your lips, “Won’t you just scream- f’me-”

With a singular, jutting slam! of his hard hips against yours, you’re just keening - because Gojo was just crashing angrily against your poor g-spot. No longer teasing grazes and glides along your soppingly wet walls, just daring you to beg for more as you always did. 

No, he was pressing into your g-spot with ferocious power, muscles rippling across his hulking body when he’s sliding his fat cock back, back, back- Only to reel all the way forwards, the very curve of his globular head curving thoroughly against your sweetly sensitive spots. Again. and again. And again and again-

“Ah!” you’re scrambling up onto your elbows, connecting your forehead with his own. “S’too-”

You didn’t know what you were going to say - to have him beg more- to have yourself beg for more? But whatever it was clings to your heavy tongue when you’re raising your head up to meet your boyfriend’s. 

Because oh you knew that flushed, blank expression on his face, the slight crinkle of lightning at his eyes. This fucker-

“Whoops.” Gojo’s grinning, not a drop of regret in his words. “Guess I must’ve hngh- accidentally used six eyes when I-” Another nudge of his rotund head against your g-spot, only picking up in pace. Only plugging you full of his deep, grinding inches - fucking you so thoroughly into the mattress that you could hear the bedframe creaking in protest, your own cunt squelching ravagedly. “-hah- fuck this cute pussy. But hey…” He leans his face even closer, that infuriating curl of his lips only growing, “-I don’t hear ya complainin’ now, do I, sweetheart?” 

“Especially when m’ruining you right-” Splaying out all five of his long, pale fingers across your stomach - drawing an invisible line where he was branding the imprint of the very top of his length into the bottom of your pussy. “-here?”

Fuck, he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Y-you’re so-” you’re managing to gasp, eyes narrowing as he leans in even mockingly closer. But you can’t hide the slutty bliss in your tone, the way you tug and tease his soft, snow strands. “-so infuriating, y’know. I shouldn’t even hah- be lettin’ you off the hook this easily.” 

He’s moaning twofold, like the sound of your voice electrifies him. Hefty shaft twitching with each piston, painfully tight balls just clenching so painfully. “Yeah- hahah- yeah, isn’t it because you love me?”

The entirety of his body shivers when you lock your legs tightly, bowing his body even closer to stick to yours. “It’s because-” you purr, batting your lashes so sultry. Spitting against his lips, “-you’re such a pain in the ass, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo doesn’t have the time to be embarrassed. All he can really think about is the syrupy slow slosh of his seed painting inside your gummy walls, shooting out in thick dredges. 

You giggle, eyeing down at the puddle of cum and saturated slick oozing down your thighs. Leaking out of your weepy slit, “Heh…for someone that wanted me to hngh- s-speak up so much, you sure are weak, Toru.”

The second roll of his nickname on your tongue is enough for Gojo to be gushing out another wave of potent cum into your snug channel. Hissing, he’s swiping at the creamy ring forming around his hilt, pooling the mess on the large pads of his fingers before-

“Maybe s’better when you-” Bullying them between the seam of your mouth, he’s swirling around your hot tongue. “-don’t speak.” Your answering glare is enough, “J-just kidding!”

A/N. If y’all need me I’ll be in my prayer circle manifesting for a Gojo comeback…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lalunanymph]

୨⎯ 🖤⎯୧ 𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐃É𝐌𝐎𝐍

driven by a desperate need to uncover the truth behind your visions after the chaos at the auction, you strike a deal with sylus to unlock more of your memories… only to discover far more than what you bargained for

𓇢𓆸 MONSTERFUCKING, explicit smut with sylus in his demon form, cumflation, predicament bondage (he ties you up with his evol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, nightmare landscapes, references to GOETHE'S "FAUST" AND HADES imagery for my rendition of sylus' origin, religious imagery, sacrilege, mentions of food, mentions of blood, mentions of death, reader goes insane, mentions of gore, mentions of violence, reader and sylus had a child together, sexy but it's also pretty angsty wbk, this is barely edited ... sorry ...

They say that no one understands human curiosity quite like a demon does.

Once angels with the entire heavens at their feet, their eyes now scorch the earth searching for souls to entrap and torture, striking deals in turn for pounds of flesh they devour once a mortal leaves the realm. 

Demons were cunning and ruthless creatures who struck fear into every heart they encountered; whose natural oozing charm and demeanor could convince even the most stalwart of men to sell their soul in exchange for a paltry consolation prize. 

In a way, Sylus reminds you of a demon. 

If it weren't for the deal you struck with him to bring you to the auction at the hotel, you wouldn't be stuck in this liminal situation where you know too much, but not enough.

After the incident at the Salon Hotel where your memories were coming back in pieces and fragments, frustration stole the last of your rationality and you all but begged the towering, intimidating lord of the N109 underworld to help you gain more of your recollections back.

At first, he had refused to do so with no reason given. 

But, just as you overestimate how stubborn he can be, he underestimates just how persistent you are in turn. 

Sitting across from him in nothing but a scarlet robe he had gifted you, the runny morning sunlight spilling across the mahogany table does nothing to warm you up from the inside out. You're still jittery from the explosion and the fight with that strange looking Wanderer, all while your lover (partner?) appears both nonchalant and nonplussed despite almost losing his life a few nights ago. 

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, sweetie."

Sylus finally puts down the book he's been reading for the past half an hour, peering at you over his glasses. 

You clear your throat and reach for the glass of pomegranate juice the personal chef had prepared, whetting your throat and your lips for what you have to say next.

"Sylus, it's been days since the last time we were at the hotel," you pause, biting your lower lip. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation of what happened? What I saw in those... flashbacks?" 

If you could even call them that.

The dagger in your hand. The blood stains on your fingers. A towering, dark figure whose touch was more familiar than you could ever believe. It all felt too real and tangible. 

Much, much too tangible. 

As much as you try to ignore it, bury your curiosity six feet under where you could never see it again, your innate Hunter instincts tell you there's something big he's not telling you. 

Something he can't tell you.

Sylus' exaggerated exhale grates your ears and he gives you a scrutinizing look all over.

"I told you—"

"You have no idea what set off those flashbacks, yeah, I heard," you bite back, seething.

A shadow of a grin teases the corners of his lips. "Seems like the little kitten has her claws ready. Whatever is bothering you, sweetie?" 

Bristling at his patronizing tone, your glare sharpens, your grip around the glass tightening. 

"I want to know the truth, Sy." You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. "The whole truth. And nothing but. Why did I have those visions? Why were you in them? Why can't my memories come back no matter how hard I try to remember?" 

You expect him to scoff or play elusive with you like he usually does. But, for the first time since you've met him, Sylus is wearing a pensive look, one which draws the angles of his face to look older than his 28 years of age. 

"Are you sure you want to know?" 

His voice is hoarser than you expect, and you perk up in disbelief.

"You-you're willing to tell me?" 

His crimson eyes flicker to the pomegranate juice in your hands.

"I would like to. But, it depends on if you can handle the truth, little bird." 

You squint at him through narrowed eyes, trying to uncover the ploy he has up his sleeve. Trusting Sylus didn't come naturally to you, though you did try for the sake of the Aether Core bond connecting you both. 

"I can handle it," you mutter decisively. "You've seen what happened after the hotel explosion—I can handle it."

The sunlight cascading behind you drenches half of his face in the shadows, a look of deep contemplation etched in his countenance. 

"Alright." He stands up, and without another moment to spare, rummages in his fridge, fishing out a whole pomegranate and peeling it with nimble, sure fingers. Your curiosity simmers to a boiling point when he taps out a handful of seeds, placing it in a bowl and pushing it right towards you.

"Eat up." 

Cautiously, you assess the blood red seeds, wondering if this was a test or some sort for him to evaluate you. 

“What is this?” 

Those crimson eyes glint with an unnamed emotion, and his expression remains unfathomable. Straightening to his full height, Sylus sauntered over to you, hands in his robe pockets; a teasing grin on his lips. He stops just shy of brushing his shins against your knees, and leans forward, broad shoulders blocking out the morning sunlight as he drenches you in the full shadows of his intentions and secrecy.

“You asked me to tell you the truth and I will. Consider these seeds a downpayment for what I’m about to reveal to you tonight.” 

Adrenaline spikes your veins, and your breathing hitches with excitement.

Is he really…?

Your thoughts trail off, and you hum, reluctantly picking up one perfectly round, juicy red globe. 

Faintly, your voice reaches him, soft and frayed with hesitancy. 

“And if I do this, will you tell me everything I want to know?” 

Striking a deal with Sylus is like striking a deal with the devil himself. You knew this—if it was too good to be true, there was something you had to give back in return. But… the idea of fully comprehending the horrible visions you saw is much too tempting. 

In answer, he cocks his head to one side, regarding you curiously like how a raven might, his mannerisms bringing to mind a scheming Mephisto. 

“Of course. When have I ever gone back on my deal?” 

The allure of knowing is too hard to resist. As you bite down on the pomegranate seeds, its sweet juices coating your tongue, you never thought succumbing to temptation could taste this good. 

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

It’s night somewhere in the recesses of your consciousness. 

You should be in your own bed in Sylus’ mansion, high thread count sheets pulled up to your chin, but instead, you’re barefoot in this abandoned colosseum, staring up at the towering effigies of old gods long departed from this world. The state of these statues are in ruin; fragments of faces and bodies missing as if they were alone were the lone survivors of a universe-changing explosion.

Only the sound of your breath and the rustle of your footsteps whispering across the stone floor touched your ears. Your guard is up, and you think you’re fully here alone when a presence makes itself known behind you. 

You feel his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you right to his chest. There is no need to turn around; you already know who it was.

Silver hair the color of snow shines in this drab, gray pantheon where old gods and a new world witness him getting to his knees, pressing his face right into your belly that, you realize with a jolt, is protruding slightly.

“I have missed you,” his familiar baritone sends sparks of longing down your spine, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, sighing deeply in contentment.

“My brother tried to keep me locked in the basement,” your words, though foreign to your own ears, felt right at this moment.

Sylus, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, kisses your stomach again, his yearning felt through his sigh when he caresses your hips with broad strokes of his large palms. “I only wish to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“That is my dearest wish, too,” you reply back in a shaky voice.

His smirk, though flashed centuries apart from the Sylus you know now, is still familiar and cheeky. 

“Run away with me,” he decided, straightening up to tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hands tightly. “Run away with me and let us forget this horrendous fate, my love.” 

Tears pool in your eyes, and you touch your belly, as if holding onto it for strength. “My love, my brother will be back and he will wonder where I am. It is not safe for you here. He knows what you have done to me—” your grip tightens further on your belly, “—and he wants his revenge for the grave error you have caused my family and I. You need to run—”

The touching scene is interrupted by a man clearing his throat. The both of you look up to find the wounded eyes of your brother searing through the two of you. 

“Sylus,” Valentine snarled, and your lover is quick to hide you behind his broad build, unsheathing his sword. 

“Do not harm her,” Sylus’ tone is low and menacing. “Your sister had no part in this debauchery. It is me you want.” 

Your brother's eyes, so similar to your own, flash with a hunger for Sylus’ end and he swings the sword first. A bloody fight ensues, one man battling for your honor and the other for your love. Your cries go unheard, as if they are alike to the stone statues observing these conflicts with a detached eye.

“Sylus—noooo!” 

His blade sinks into Valentine’s chest, cherry red blood spewing out onto the stone floors. You drop to your knees, cradling your belly in anguish as you cry out your brother’s name over and over again. Your brother’s blood seeps through your hands, staining your snowy white nightgown as you fail to staunch his life from leaving his shuddering body. 

He’s dead… oh gods… he’s dead… My last family member is dead!

Devastated, you run off barefoot into the night, rocks and dirt cutting through the delicate soles of your feet as you scream and cry like a madwoman. 

Sylus has killed my brother… he’s killed my mother…

This cursed child in your womb! 

You want nothing more than to pull it from the flesh of your being, leaving it straggling and dying for breath. You want nothing of Sylus in you—there is an absence of everything warm and good in your shivering chest. All you desire for is his demise from this world. 

Hurling yourself into an empty church, you stagger to the sanctuary, climbing the steps and crumble into a desperate, sobbing heap. 

Tears drip down to the stone floor, and your sobs echo around the vacant space. Saint Verona gazes down upon you, heavenly in her glow of flowing blonde hair and esoteric glare, stoic and silent, as if she too has abandoned you from God’s good graces. A bubbling laughter filled with nothing but terror and hysteria bounces across the church’s walls and you cackle, tearing at your hair, your clothes, fists raining down onto your belly as you try to rid yourself of the monster’s child. 

The scene changes. 

Scorching earth fills your nose, and in your hand, a dagger prevails. 

There’s a thundering of hooves, like a battalion of horses fighting in the distance, ringing through your hollow ears. The ground shakes and trembles from the force of the hundred horses, but when you look up, you see a familiar pair of red eyes burning through the dark mists surrounding him. 

His name comes to you in a flash.

Sylus.

Those crimson orbs seem to float through the smoky composition of his face, though if you look closer, you can see the translucent demonic skin stretching over his towering form appearing in fleeting instances—proof that he was once human. 

You glare at him, getting to your feet and wield the dagger, aiming it straight for his heart.

The second the pointed tip sinks into his chest, the world explodes in a shock of white light, and you’re back in the same, decrepit pantheon. 

There is no longer a child inside of you, just hatred tearing through your heart as you bare your teeth at his demonic form, not afraid so much as devastated by his betrayal.

“You hurt me.” 

Your voice rings through the empty halls with the conviction of an entire jury waiting to declare him guilty. 

Sylus doesn’t respond, merely taking one step towards you. His demonic form towers above you by a few feet, but you tilt your head upright in defiance, unwilling to back down and grovel for a man who had left you in the lurch; abandoning you when you needed him the most.

A clawed hand drifts from his side, and you flinch when he touches your cheek, tracing his finger down to your jaw. The mists swirling around him recoil, as if waiting in anticipation.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice is a low croak, vibrating through your chest with the strength of his despair. 

You shrink back from his touch, the baleful glare on your lips never fading. 

“Why? After what you’ve done… after what you did to me…”

“I never intended for you to get caught in the crossfire,” he rumbled, taking one step closer to you. The tendrils of black mist move with him, and you feel them reaching out to you, caressing your arms, your hair. 

One of them touches your cheek, and you’re surprised to find it warm and pulsing, as if human blood ran through its dark haze. 

The tendril reaches to touch your lips, and those crimson eyes burn through the dark night, remaining steady on you. 

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. That is why I made the deal with Mephisto.” 

You shake at the name of that cursed demon who had stolen your lover’s humanity. 

“And why should I believe you now?” 

Though in his demonic form, there are still bits of his humanity flickering through the amorphous slate of his once face. You can almost see his lips twisting into a frown, the desperation besmirching his brow with a furrow. 

“Do you think I would’ve done this—any of this—if it weren’t for you?” Sylus takes one thundering step towards you, close enough for you to reach out and brush his translucent skin. “I love you! I love you so much, my beloved and here you are, boldly claiming I want to destroy you. It is absurd.”

“It is not absurd!” you cry out, raising your fists and slamming them onto his chest. “You took everything away from me! You stole my livelihood, my sanity, my… my family!” 

Sylus caught you in time as your strength gives out and you crumple in front of him, tears seeping down your cheeks and staining your frock. 

“Our child… you didn’t even search for me when you found out the truth…”

Your hands clench above your hollow belly. 

For a palm with such immense size and width, it cups your face gently, bringing his face closer to yours, the love he feels for you desperately trying to bridge the distance. 

“I made sure to speak to the underworld lords. Our baby is currently in paradise now, my love. Nothing can hurt her. Her soul is free,” his voice breaks at the reminder of the price he had to pay to protect you and the child you both made out of love. The price of his soul, bartered and bargained for with the devil himself so his human lover would never feel an ounce of pain in her life again. 

You shake your head, tears staining the stone floor with dark droplets. “The price is too high, Sylus. It is too much. I should be taking on some of the burden—”

“You will remain in the above world, my love,” he reprimands you without an afterthought. “I will not ask you for much except to continue living as you would if I didn’t exist.” 

What’s left of his human conscience aches at the reminder of what he has to say next. “You are free to love, free to get married, have more children if you like… Your freedom has been bought and paid for. You don’t have to suffer anymore, Y/N. It is done.”

He stands after a second of hesitation, but you desperately reach out for him, grasping onto his broad shoulders. 

“I can’t live without you.” More tears gloss over your eyes, and you hiccup the truth through quivering lips. “Please. Sylus. There has to be a way we can be together.” 

He remains silent, impassive in the face of your desperate plea. 

The tendrils hovering around you are softer this time when they reach out to stroke your hair, grazing your cheeks and neck, leaving shivers of heat running up your spine. Effortlessly, like you weigh next to nothing, the wrap around your body, lifting you off the ground. 

Your back meets stone, and your hands are tethered above your head by the dark mist, the aching silence too much for you to handle.

“Sylus…” 

The sound of his name from your lips will never not be the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. 

Despite being dark and imposing in his demonic form, it doesn’t scare you a single bit when he moves closer, face hovering inches from yours. The tendrils now stroke your bare thighs, feeling the tensing of your muscles under his touch, wrapping around your shapely calves to spread them wider.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, low and inquisitive, filling your parted mouth with his hot breath.

You nod, unable to speak, but the devotion in your eyes never wavers. 

“Yes. With all my heart and soul.” 

Your soul. Sylus feels the last remaining stronghold of his patience snapping; he has to claim your body as his own. 

There is nothing lewd in his touch when he caresses your hips, moving his sweeping palms to your chest as he squeezes your heaving mounds. Sylus’ mouth finds refuge in your neck, kissing a fiery trail up to your jaw as he tastes you with his tongue.

Your whimper fuels his sick need to claim you over and over again until you bear his marks upon your skin. Sylus lets the tendrils do their part in undressing you; those wispy curls slithering underneath the straps of your dress, drawing them down to let him feast his eyes upon your naked chest.

And you take these transgressions he inflicts upon with barely a grimace, encouraging him with soft moans and groans as the snakelike mist curls around your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. 

Sylus commands the mist to lift you higher, right at his mouth level and he takes his time to savor the taste of your skin—licking your tender nubs, biting down on them and leaving them stinging from the cold and his saliva. 

Your abdomen constricts, and he sweeps a hand down the taut line of your body, humming in appreciation. It’s like he can finally see and touch you without any distance between your bodies; despite his sheer size and non-human composition. 

For the first time since his perceived betrayal, you’re openly receiving him with your reactions and enthusiasm. 

Sylus, you groan his name like it's a mantra. 

The tendrils trickle to the split between your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress aside so he can appreciate the bareness of you beyond your inner shift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear off your clothes, hungering to feel your body quivering under his palms. When your bare body is revealed in the gossamer light, he takes a step back, eyes burning from how pure and sacred you look.

Inches of warm flesh, so different from the hardness of his own translucent skin, greets his claws and he takes his time to touch you; memorizing your shape and smoothness in case he may never encounter them in his existence again.

You throw your head back, baring your graceful neck, and his mouth sinks right into the tender skin, working a mark right on your pulse point.

“My love,” he groaned in between kisses. “My love. All mine.” 

Your hips begin to twitch, and he takes it as a sign that you’re begging for more attention right where you need him the most. 

He may be a demon, but as Sylus sinks to his knees, he feels like a sinner falling at your altar; taking you into his mouth like you’re the only covenant in the world he wants to keep. 

Trembles tear through you like an earthquake, and Sylus has to sink his claws in the plush flesh of your thighs to keep you steady.

He runs his tongue over your clit, through your folds, the weeping wetness of your need running down his mouth, his jaw. 

The taste of you pumps his veins full of ecstasy.

Your sounds, moans, cries all filling his stone dead heart with a staggering love one will never find in this universe. 

Feels so good… you feel amazing… 

Your desperate panting and moaning go straight to his fuzzy brain, and your hips are circling and undulating, desperately trying to get yourself off with his mouth.

Sylus doesn’t care. He wants you to use him; wants to be used by you thoroughly. 

Those blood red eyes flicker up the length of your body, taking in the tendrils still cruelly teasing your nipples, your quivering thighs and endless streams of moans signaling you’re right at the brink of your pleasure.

Giving your sensitive nub a tender kiss, he rises to his full height, and prepares for the final claiming.

The way your eyes widen when he reveals his cock nearly makes him laugh, and you gasp, flinching back at the sheer size and girth of him.

Close to a foot long, you’ve never seen such… length on an appendage quite like the one Sylus was carrying.

He noticed your gaping stare, the petrified silence, and laughed. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I will make sure to prep you very—” he takes one step closer, sinking his claws into your thigh. “—very,” you feel his lips brush underneath your ear, drawing a shiver of heat wracking through your body. “—very well.” 

He remained true to his word.

Sylus spent what felt like hours between your thighs, giving your orgasm after orgasm, using his tongue, teeth, claws, and the mist to get you spilling for him until your every pulse wracking through your body was starting to hurt.

Your cries were eventually muffled by the tendrils stuffing your mouth, the cross-eyed expression you wore making it harder for him to deny the need to absolutely claim you with no mercy. 

“No more,” your garbled plea reaches his ears, and Sylus leans back on his haunches, staring up at you with a raised brow. 

Your exhaustion manifests in the tired droop of your eyes, tugging right on his heartstrings.

“Oh, my. Looks like I’ve tired you out, my love.” 

Sylus gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Your head lolls against his broad shoulder, the exertion wearing you out and making you susceptible to his next ploy. 

Lifting your hips, he tests the waters by sinking the tip of his tapered cock right into your heat. 

Your eyes flutter wide open, a gasp ripping past your lips. 

“Sy,” you stammered, and he shushes you. 

Pain. A neverending stretch. 

Your gasp is fused with panic, and you shake in your bonds, your body seizing.

“N-no… it can’t fit… it can’t…”

“Ssh.” He kisses your tears away, soothing your worries with his palms on your cheeks, thumbs stroking your jaw. “I’ll go slow, my love. I won’t hurt you.”

You hiccup and give a little, teary nod. 

Sylus smiled at your adorable surrender, staying true to his promise and taking his time to slowly ease inside of you. 

Without much effort, he’s halfway in and you gape, unable to believe you can take all of him in one go. 

A mist tendril helps to keep your body keyed up for him, playing with your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub until you begin to shiver and shake. 

You clench your hands into fists, unable to break the bonds that hold you fast to the sensations; that tie you down to Sylus.

He nips and licks at your throat, growling under his breath as his cock endeavors to plunge inside of you.

The need to fully bottom out, to have all of him buried inside of you is much too lustful of a temptation to surrender.

Sylus needs to see you struggling to make him fit. He needs to hear you say the words that will give yourself fully to him. 

Oh… Sylus… oh gods… gods…

“No gods, my love,” he bites down on your earlobe, drawing a full-body shiver from you. “Just me.”

His crimson eyes glance down to where you’re connected, and he huffs a sound of satisfaction.

“Look at that perfect cunt, my love,” he guides you to look down, enjoying how your eyes widen and your breath falls out in a desperate puff. “She’s taking me so well… you’re taking me so well…”

One more inch, and the ritual will be complete. 

Sylus can see the tip of his cock pushing against your stomach, and the idea of him being so deep, so intimately connected with you, makes his heart lurch and the blood rush to his ears.

“Gods!” 

Your scream echoed around the pantheon, both a revelry and blasphemy at once. 

His grip around your hips tightened, long fingers overlapping around your smaller figure as he waits for you to stop squirming, his jaw set tightly so he doesn't lose control of his urges and unintentionally hurt you. 

“Darling,” his warning comes out as a low rumble. “Please, cease your movements. I am barely holding on by a thread.”

Your lachrymose eyes trail upwards to him, and something in his chest tightens at the look of pure trust and devotion you give him. 

Tentatively, he shifts his hips forward, giving a gentle thrust to test the waters.

You respond instantly, back arching and hands turning into white-knuckled fists above your head that he thinks you might accidentally snap off your fingers. Your clenched jaw and quivering thighs fuel him to pick up the pace, and soon, the decrepit hall is filled with the sounds of your bodies messily meeting.

Each thrust he gives you makes your belly bulge, the sheer size of him driving you to the brink of madness as your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open and tongue slightly dangling past your lower lip.

He lives for the blissful look on your face, increasing his movements until he feels that familiar knot tightening deep in his body. 

“You feel like a dream, my love,” his whisper lights up the lust-tinged room with a flicker of innocent love—a great divide bridging closer and closer from the power of his devotion to you. 

The mists move by his command, pleasuring your erogenous zones—tugging and flicking your nipples, grazing firm circles on your clit.

Sylus needs you to be at the edge with him; needs to have you trust him enough to go off the deep end with someone as corrupted and wicked as himself. 

Your choked gasps and stuttering hips bring about a whole new wave of love and fierce protection he feels for you. 

Tangling his claws in your hair, he pushes your face up to meet his, devouring your entire being with his soul-sucking kiss.

The earth shakes, the walls tremble, and debris clatters to the ground.

Your orgasm comes as a jagged cry, and you shatter around him for the final time tonight, digging your heels into his broader waist; nearly losing yourself from the sensation of being completely tiny in comparison to him. 

Warmth gushes inside of you. At first, you find it familiar—comforting, even.

But, it doesn’t stop. 

Sylus keeps spilling inside of you until you hallucinate his taste in the back of your throat—salty, and musky desire. 

His hips tremble with the force of his unholy release, snarls and gasps bouncing across the dilapidated walls demonically sinister. 

You should be afraid—you knew that. 

But, all you can feel in this moment is raging passion for the man who was once your entire world.

The mists release you and you tumble right into his arms, feeling much too small and weak in his massive arms. 

Sylus’ demon cock remains hard and unyielding inside of you, and you think you feel him sloshing about in your inner guts.

Your belly is completely swollen, protruding from the copious amount of cum you hold inside of you. 

It makes you shiver and keen at the strange yet welcomed sensation. Sylus, mortified, tries to pull himself out of you, but you shake your head, needing to hold him close.

He drags you to the ground, holding you steady in his hulking build, pushing what’s left of his human nose into your hair to take in your musky, sweet scent.

When you straighten to lift yourself from his cock, you wince and gasp at the amount of white that floods from your gaping hole, making you twitch and whine loudly. 

Sylus too, groans at the sight, his head thumping back onto the stone floor.

“You will be the death of me, darling.”

His claws gently drag through your hair, and you sigh, leaning into his touch no matter how diabolical it may be.

Silence resounds around two lovers who are simply enjoying each other’s company. You press your head to his chest and he plays with the ends of your hair, content to nuzzle and cuddle you like he used to do when he was still human.

The thought puts a damper on your high, and you exhale, twining your arms around him.

As if he can read your mind, Sylus’ grip on your frailer body tightens—unwilling to let you go.

“Extend your palm,” his hoarse mumble draws you up short, and your look of bewilderment is second only to the confusion when he materializes a ripe pomegranate right into your outstretched hand. 

Sylus’ claws wrap around your smaller hand as he curls your fingers around the rotund fruit, reluctant to let you go.

“This is part of our deal,” he rumbled. “Until I can manifest in a pure flesh form, I will come to you in your dreams. Eat this and think of me, my beloved, and I will be with you the very second I hear your call for me.”

You gaze at the fruit in confusion, about to open your mouth and speak when you realize he’s disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sylus!” 

Your desperate cries mingle with your pained exclamation when you tumble to the hard ground, the warmth and strength of his body no longer under yours. The pomegranate in your hand rolls into a dusty corner, but you turn a blind eye to it—unable to believe he is well and truly gone. 

“Sylus,” you begin to sob, clawing at the ground, as if you could dig up the stone flooring and bring him back into your arms. 

“Sylus, you promised me! You promised you would never leave… you… you promised…”

You promised…

You promised…

You promised…

“...promised…” 

Your eyes flutter open in the half-darkness. Tears are drying on your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath you. 

Numbly, you touch your stomach, thinking you can still feel the imprint of him deep inside of you. The sheets are tangled around your legs, and the emptiness yawns like a pertinacious monster inside of you, clawing through your soul till you think you might go mad with need. 

“Sylus…”

You feel the shadows stirring, and without warning, his embrace returns to hold you tightly to his chest.

The familiar scent of him, coming back to you after lifetimes apart, destroys what’s left of your self-control.

You sob in his arms like a child, soaking his robe with your tears and sorrow.

Let it out, darling, he whispers in the darkness, those crimson eyes filling with grief and pain, his tears dripping into your hair. 

Let it out… let it all out… I’m here… I’m here…

“Sylus,” you gasp, digging your fingers into the soft material of his sleeping robe, as if your touch alone could ensure he never leaves you again. “Sylus… I’m so sorry… I’m so…”

“Ssh,” he cradles you in his arms, rocking you from side to side like how a father might soothe a terrified child. “Oh, darling. There is no need to apologize. There is no need.”

Your shuddering, muffled wails pierce through the quiet night, and his eyes squeeze close, unable to bear the thought of you suffering from the same memories that never ceased to keep him up till dawn.

All Sylus has ever wanted was to protect you, but sometimes, protection comes with knowledge and knowledge is, in his experience, nothing but pain. 

“Do you want to talk about this now or shall we wait till morning arrives?” 

He wants to give you the choice he never had—a chance to confront your past and shape your future together, releasing himself from centuries of limbo spent navigating uncertainty alone.

But, you shake your head tiredly, a telltale sign of where your headspace was tonight.

“No. Let’s do it in the morning.”

Your arms tighten around him and he implicitly reads your unease and trepidation, letting you curl your body deeper into his embrace.

Sylus pauses for a moment, finding his center in your embrace, knowing that despite the centuries of turmoil you've endured together, come morning, you'll still be by his side.

“Of course,” he whispers, his voice threading through the comforting silence that envelops you both. He gently kisses the top of your head.

“Till morning, then.”

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

dawn says: ngl i teared up writing this </3 goethe's 'faust' will always make me emo because all mans really wanted was to be loved by someone (and amass immense power but ... oh well ...)

i had to review a lot of notes on faust as well as this reddit post for reference in this piece so your reblogs and feedback will be extremely appreciated in return mwah

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, sentence structures and plot lines and claim it as yours. do not recommend and repost my stories on other platforms.

[recycledraccoon]

What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

.

.

.

.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

[sparklingchim]

you're losing me 03 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, spit kink 👉🏼👈🏼, oc is horny for her man 😋☝️, dirty talk, implied shower sex!! teasing, her dad is a meanie </3, but jk lowkey too :') ... but he's saur sweet as well 🥺 ugh!!, jk's niece yumi is the cutest ever <3, oc feeling sad/lonely/neglected/not loved enough, u know just the usual :')

summary: probing questions and rising tensions cloud the family dinner.

a/n: she posted !!!! 🫢 are u proud of me !! 🫂

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Something tickles your back.

You roll over on your side, mumbling incoherent words.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re having a bad dream?”

You nod against the pillow. You don’t remember much now that you’re awake, but the dream left you feeling upset.

He pulls your body to his, keeping a safe arm around you.

“You’re okay now?” His knuckles trace softly over your cheek.

Fluttering your eyes open, you turn your head to him. “What time is it?”

“Just past six.” Jungkook pulls up the strap of your lacy nightgown. “Gotta get up for work soon.”

“No.” You hug his chest. “They won’t care if you go in a little later.”

A faint smile curves his mouth. “But I care,” he says. “The company doesn’t work without me.”

You frown and dig your pointer finger to your chest. “Me too.”

Jungkook catches your finger and intertwines his hand with yours. “I’ll be back early today,” he promises.

And while you’d usually be excited about it, you’re a bit frustrated that he’s only promising it because you’re having a family dinner at your place this evening.

“Dad would be upset if you show up late.”

“I know. He’s been watching my every step these days.”

Your dad once trusted Jungkook without question, but now he seems to be keeping a closer eye on him. You remember the day you told your dad about dating Jungkook. His expression had softened, a rare sign of pride. Though you knew it wasn’t because he was happy his daughter found a loving partner. Still, you tried to absorb any positive attention from him, recognizing that his approval was more about how the relationship could benefit him.

Your father has always been more interested in what you create or gain and how it can serve his interests.

“Is he upset with you?” you ask. Brows furrowing as you think about your own question.

“Not yet. But he’s still eager for a partnership between our companies and wants to launch a joint venture.”

You pull a face, groan a little. “Don’t tell me more. I don’t want any knowledge of this, so my father can use me to get what he wants from you.”

“He shouldn’t dare.” A stern look crosses his face. “I won’t let him drag you into it.”

But just because you’re curious and way too nosy, you ask one more question. “What do you have that he does not?”

“I have more connections than he does,” Jungkook says. One corner of his mouth slightly pulling upward. “Your father can be ruthless, but people like working with me. I’m way nicer than he is.”

“You are?” you question with a teasing lilt to your voice. You drag your finger across his chest. “Then be nice and spend some time with me before you go to work.” Your finger travels down his abs, stops at his boxer briefs. An amused smile blooms on his face as he watches you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

With a playful grin, unable to resist you, he leans in closer. His hands find your waist. As your back sinks into the plush mattress underneath, you feel his weight pressing against you. His lips capture yours in a deep, lingering kiss, and you can feel the heat between you both rising.

He pushes your silky nightgown up your tummy, continuing his kisses on your neck to your chest and then your ribs and your belly button. Little, satisfied moans leave your mouth.

“Spread your legs for me,” he whispers against your skin. With his hands on your thighs, he gets comfortable on his tummy.

“I didn’t even get to tell you about the exciting new offer I got yesterday.”

“Tell me, love,” he says softly, continuing to peck your exposed skin. His breath tickles your thigh.

“Dasom called and told me Calvin Klein wants me as an ambassador,” you explain. The same joy floods your tummy as when your manager told you about the news, but maybe it’s Jungkook’s mouth teasing you on your inner thighs.

“That’s exciting.” His thumb rubs over your ribs in appreciation. “You’ve been wanting to work with them for so long.”

“I know! But you know what’s even more fun?” Your voice drowns in excitement, eyes sparking with enthusiasm as you look down at Jungkook between your legs.

He licks a stripe up your clothed pussy. Your inhale shakily.

“Jungkook.” You tug at his hair to make him look at you. “Are you listening?”

“I am listening.” He keeps looking at you while he tugs your panties to the side. “Go on,” he tells you, sucking on your clit right after.

Your back arches. A surprised moan bubbles from your throat.

“They- they want us two to do a shoot together,” you utter between heavy breaths. “Said it would be great for their new campaign. They love our chemistry."

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s eyes lock onto yours, and you suddenly find it hard to hold his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the sheets between you.

“They thought about an underwear shoot, but we could do whatever we’re comfortable with.” Your tummy clenches when Jungkook adds two fingers. “They just- Jungkook, fuck.” He curls his fingers and grazes your sweet spot, pleasure jolting throughout your entire body. “They just really want us both for their campaign.”

Your fingers tug at his messy hair, hips moving against his face.

“What do – what do you think?” You bite your lip. Just a little bit more and you’re cumming.

His mouth leaves your clit. You whine at the loss. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.”

“You’d be okay with it?”

“Yeah.” He gives your pussy little kisses, trailing upwards to give your tummy a few too.

You impatiently push his head back between your legs. “Please, finish what you started.”

Jungkook hums in satisfaction. “So well behaved. That’s my good girl.” His tongue glides over your clit while his fingers move at a languid pace.

“Remember the perfume ad?” you ask, eyes slowly closing as he continues to torture your swollen nub with his tongue. “They only saw your back in the video and loved it so much. They’ll... they’ll die seeing this campaign.”

His left hand travels up your body, vanishing underneath the soft fabric that just barely covers your chest. “Do you have a date?” he asks, mouth full. He makes you feel dizzy.

“No-uh – oh.” You gasp when he pinches your pebbled nipple. “Not soon, though. Sometime next year, I think.”

“Sounds good.” His fingers are deep inside you. Wet noises fill the room and you want to cum so badly.

“Faster, please.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers, heat spreading over your entire body.

Jungkook looks so hot between your thighs. Eating you out with his skilled mouth, his cheeks flush a dusty pink as he watches your gentle reactions through his still sleep-laden eyes

“Jungkook.” The creases around his eyes soften when he hears you moan his name in a meek, lewd way. He can feel you being so close to coming undone, and he’s eager to see you writhe for him, make a little mess.

“Gonna cum for me, love?” The way he asks is so sweet that you nod eagerly You don’t ever deny him anything, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to slip between breathy moans. “Wanna cum for you.”

When the pleasure finally hits its peak and you’re so full with it, your thighs begin to tremble around his face and your head sinks into the pillow. Jungkook’s tongue continues to swipe over your sensitive clit and you whimper, pushing him away.

“Felt so good, didn’t it?” He withdraws his fingers from your clenching walls and runs his thumb over your wet, creamy pussy. He licks them clean and you swallow. He’s so irresistibly attractive it leaves you feeling light-headed.

Rising from his spot between your legs, he holds your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks. “Open your mouth.” When you do, he spits in your mouth and you swallow the mixture of your arousal combined with his spit.

“So good,” he murmurs, patting your head. “I’ll go take a shower.”

You throw your arms around his little waist. “No, stay a little more.”

“I have to leave soon, love.”

His semi is poking your tummy through his briefs and you wriggle around a little just to show him what he’s missing out on.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Join me in the shower?”

You giggle, tugging at his hair to kiss him on the lips. “Fine.”

As he walks towards the bathroom, you take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, your nightgown falling back over your body, feeling the lingering warmth of his body. You hear the sound of the shower turning on, and the steam starts to drift out into the bedroom.

Before joining him, you decide to select today’s perfumes for the both of you. You pause in front of the vanity, eyeing your collection with a silly excitement.

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre? Delightful and light, but not today. Marc Jacobs Daisy? Sweet and floral. Maison Francis Kurkdijan Baccarat Rouge 540? A favourite, but it doesn’t feel right for the moment. Gucci Bloom? Tempting with its fresh notes.

Finally, you settle on Dior J’adore – you’re just obsessed with Dior scents.

Moving along the row of Jungkook’s fragrances, your finger dances over each bottle, contemplating.

Creed Aventus? A bit too fruity. Tom Ford Oud Wood? Very exotic. Dior Sauvage? Immediate skip. Bleu de Chanel? Elegant but maybe another day.

You pause at Tom Ford Amber Absolute. That exotic scent – ugh, you’ve never liked it at all. Jungkook used to wear it occasionally until he noticed your distaste and stopped.

At last, your finger lands on Yves Saint Laurent La Nuit de l’Homme. You love the cedarwood and vetiver smell in this one. Perfect.

With a satisfied smile, you set the chosen bottles on the counter.

“Love?” Jungkook calls from the bathroom.

“’m coming!”

~

You’ve successfully avoided your father all evening, managing to stay out of his way whenever possible.

You know he’s itching to discuss the incident from a few weeks ago when you were seen at your gynaecologist. He loves prying into your life and demanding answers, a way of “checking up” on his youngest daughter that feels more intrusive than caring.

So, as he’s deep in conversation with Jungkook’s brother and dad, you seize the opportunity to slip out of the living room. You're in search of Jungkook, who left a few minutes ago, and you could really use his comforting presence.

As you move quietly through the house, you hear voices coming from the dining room. You pause at the doorway and catch Jungkook’s mum ask in a hushed tone, “Is the same happening as with Eunji?”

“No. Everything is fine,” Jungkook reassures her.

“I don’t want to witness something similar again,” she expresses, clearly distressed.

Jungkook’s soothing voice replies, “There is nothing for you to worry. I promise.”

Your tummy knots with unease.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the mention of Jungkook’s ex-wife only heightens your discomfort.

You’re desperate to know why his mother is mentioned Eunji and what the conversation is about, but you decide to ask Jungkook later, in a subtle manner.

With your eyes fixated to the floor and thoughts muddled, you enter the kitchen. Sunhee, the chef who has been part of your family since you were little, is preparing dinner for you tonight.

“Who was the cause of that sad face, my dear?” Sunhee asks, worry crinkling her forehead while she puts the food on the plates.

“I’m not sad,” you deny, leaning against the counter. “Not yet, at least.”

“Why are you anticipating becoming sad? That’s not a good thing to do,” Sunhee says, shaking her head in disapproval. “Who are you hiding from?”

She knows you so well. Ever since Sunhee became your family’s chef, it’s been your habit to hide in the kitchen when the atmosphere at home became too overwhelming for you. When your father was angry or your parents argued, you’d slip into the kitchen, and Sunhee would lift you onto the counter to watch her cook.

You used to just hide in your room, but you found that life was easier to bear when you didn’t have to carry all the sadness alone. When you were ready to face the world again, Sunhee would slip sweets into your hands. You mum hated treats before dinner and never allowed them, so this became your little secret with Sunhee.

It might seem trivial, but those moments meant the world to you when you were a little girl.

“My dad,” you huff. “He’s been unbearable since...the pictures.”

Sunhee gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I know how tiring his behaviour can be.”

“He’s like someone straight out of the gossip rags.”

Sunhee chuckles softly. “He does have a flair for drama, doesn’t he? But you shouldn’t let it get to you. You’ve always been good at handling him.”

“It’s just exhausting.”

She pats your hand gently. “Don’t let him bring you down. Remember, this kitchen is your sanctuary.” The little anxious ball in your tummy fades with each comforting word Sunhee speaks. “Dinner will be ready shortly. You can sit down in the dining room. I’ll let everyone know.”

“I’ll do that for you,” you offer, and leave the kitchen.

Heading to the living room, you announce, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Have you seen Yumi?” Jungkook’s brother asks, referring to his four-year-old daughter.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen her,” you answer and he immediately gets up. She must be up to no good if she’s been unsupervised for longer than ten minutes.

“Yumi! Where are you?” Jungkook’s brother calls in the hallway. “Dinner’s ready!”

Loud, hectic thumps erupt from upstairs.

“When did she get up there?” you ask puzzled.

Jungkook and his mother emerge from the dining room.

“What happened?” he asks.

Before anyone can respond, Yumi’s usual small pitter-patter of footsteps becomes a series of high-pitched clatters. She appears at the top of the stairs, dressed up in your clothes.

“Oh, God,” her dad utters.

“She found ___ closet.” An endeared smile crinkles Jungkook’s eyes.

Yumi proudly walks down the stairs in your Louboutins, a hand on the rail to keep her from tumbling. Jungkook rushes towards her, keeping a safe hand on her shoulder.

“___!” she exclaims, her wide smile puffing her cheeks. She’s wearing your soft pink corset from Dior and your mini skirt from Giambattista Valli’s vintage collection over her own dress.

“Had fun in my wardrobe?” You laugh as she nods vigorously.

“You have soo many clothes!” she says, eyes turning big. “And everything is sparkly!” She turns to her dad. “Daddy, I want a sparkly bag like dis too!” Yumi shoves your Prada clutch up in the air.

Jungkook’s brother emits a strained sigh, although a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you have a sparkly bag?”

Yumi frowns. “Not dis sparkly.” She points her hand at the bag for emphasis.

You giggle. Yumi was raised right. The sparklier the better.

“I hope you didn’t leave a mess in there,” he warns her.

“Daddy, the bag!” she yells, ignoring his words to avoid trouble, dangling it in the air.

Her dad ushers her into the dining room.

“Who made the bag? I’ll just buy her the same one,” he whispers in your ear.

“It’s a vintage Prada clutch from the fall/winter 2015 collection,” you answer, a confused pout gracing your face. “It’s no longer available for purchase.”

His eyes widen. He watches his daughter climb onto the chair with Jungkook’s assistance, the crystal embellished clutch sitting on the decked table near drinks and food that could spill onto it.

“Then we better take care of it.” He rushes to the table and places it somewhere safer.

As everyone settles into their seats for dinner, Jungkook’s brother breaks the silence, “Hyein was so upset she would miss out on Sunhee’s food.” His wife is pregnant and felt sick today, so she couldn’t come.

“How far along is she?” your mother asks.

“Just entered the third trimester.”

“I’m getting a baby brother!” Yumi exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.

Jungkook pats her hair and falls into a quiet conversation with her.

“We’re very excited, but she’s been having a rough time lately.”

“Well, I hope she feels better soon,” your father says, his tone temporarily softening. “Take good care of her.”

As the conversation continues with lighter topics, you feel a momentary relief. But soon enough, you feel your father’s gaze shift back to you, a familiar sense of scrutiny returning.

“I wonder when it’ll be time for my daughters,” he says pointedly.

It’s funny he is using the plural form, given that, as far as you know, he never brings up this topic with your older sister, Jinah.

“I think we’ve talked about this last week,” you answer monotonous, eyes set on the plate before you.

“With you I’m just wondering whether I would receive the news from you personally or wake up to headlines telling me,” he says.

Your father called you as soon as the pictures were released, as hungry for answers as the press. Even accused you of hiring the paparazzi yourself when you told him you had merely gone to a check-up and assured him you weren’t pregnant; Jungkook was just comforting you after a rough day.

You used to pull a lot of silly stunts as a teenager to get your father’s attention. But staging a scene for the paparazzi, crying in your husband’s arms over a pregnancy scare, would be the last thing you’d do to get him to check up on you.

You did have your share of attention-seeking antics, like being spotted leaving the club with the son of your father’s rival company, stealing his jet or throwing lavish parties and inviting a mix of celebrities and socialites when your father was away on a trip.

“Didn’t Jinah talk about wanting babies in an interview? Ask her for grandchildren.”

Tilting his head, your father gives you a disapproving glance. “She’s busy with her law firm, don’t you think?”

The table falls silent, with only the faint sound of your breath as you open your lips to speak. Before you can respond, Jungkook steps in to answer for you.

“___ is quite busy herself – launching her clothing brand soon, starting the filming of her first drama, handling the countless photoshoots she has weekly.” Jungkook subtly places his hand on your bare thigh, the comforting press of his wedding band against your skin.

Your father’s features soften as he shifts his gaze to Jungkook. It still saddens you a bit that he seems to approve of everyone but you – it haunts you in the middle of the night, knowing that all you ever wanted as a child was to feel deserving of one of his approving smiles.

“I know she’s busy. It irks me what she keeps herself busy with.”

Jungkook is about to respond, but his mother steps in. “Your acting debut? Oh, I’m so excited.”

Jungkook’s hand slides to your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t take it to heart.

You remind yourself that you’ve long since stopped letting these comments get under your skin. Yet, a part of you – the little girl still longing for approval – feels a pang of sadness that won’t quiet fade.

As the conversation shifts, you find yourself staring at your plate, pushing the food around with your fork. The weight of your father’s disapproval feels heavier than ever. The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and clinking utensils. You laugh at the right moments, nod when expected, but your mind drifts elsewhere. Eventually, the plates are cleared, and everyone begins to disperse.

“We should get going. It’s been a long day, and Hyein is alone at home.”

Yumi tugs at her dad’s sleeve, her eyes wide and hopeful. She glances over at you and Jungkook, then looks down shyly.

“What is it, Yumi?” her dad asks, crouching down to her level.

She whispers something in his ear, and he chuckles. “She wants to ask you guys something.”

You smile, kneeling down.

“Can we have a sleepover?” Yumi asks, her voice small and tentative. “Please?”

Jungkook grins and looks at you for confirmation. You nod saying, “Of course, you can. We’d love to have you.”

“Yay!” Yumi exclaims, jumping up and down excitedly. She rushes over to hug both you and Jungkook tightly.

As everyone gathers their things, your father watches you intently. His expression is hard to read, and for a moment, it seems like he might say something. But he quickly looks away, the familiar disapproval etched into his features.

You expected nothing less from him.

~

“Is Uncle Jungkook not playing dress up with us?” Yumi asks as she looks through the dress section of your closet.

“I’ll look for him, yeah?”

Stepping out of your walk-in closet and your bedroom, you walk down the hallway.

“Jungkook?” You hear his voice coming closer, and soon spot him walking briskly in your direction.

“Jungkook,” you call, trying to grab his bicep but he continues walking, and your fingers merely graze his arm. “Yumi wants to play before going to bed.”

Only when he turns around do you see him pressing his phone against his ear. Jungkook puts his pointer finger against his mouth and shushes you before he walks off in the direction of his office.

A startled laugh escapes your mouth.

As soon as your family left, his focus shifted back to his work. His excuse about being on the phone felt like a dagger, leaving you feeling disregarded and lonely – emotions you have been feeling too much lately, it’s starting to become a familiar ache in your chest, a constant reminder of the growing distance between you.

Watching Jungkook retreat to his office, you couldn’t help but wonder when it became so easy for him to prioritise work over your presence.

You turn back towards the bedroom and find Yumi standing by your open jewellery drawer, probably drawn by the bright, sparkly gems.

“Uncle Jungkook has some work to do,” you tell her.

Yumi just nods, staring at all the shimmery things in front of her. When she hears you sigh, she looks up at you, her little heart immediately sensing your change in mood.

“Are you sad?” Yumi asks, dragging her little finger over all your accessories, searching for the ones that shine the most.

“I think so,” you admit.

“Was someone mean to you?” She grabs a diamond necklace.

“A little, yeah.” You cross your arms, holding back the annoyed sigh.

Jungkook didn’t mean to make you feel upset. That would never be his intention. But you’re a sensitive person. And you’re his wife, so he should know better.

“My mommy always says when someone is mean to me to never be mean back to them, because – because that shows you are an ugly person.” She fiddles with your necklace.

“And we don’t want to be an ugly person, right?”

“No-uh.” She shakes her head, her little pigtails bouncing. “I wanna be pretty,” she says and holds the shiny necklace against her neck while looking at herself in the full-length mirror. “Where did you get this one from?”

Yumi’s second favourite game, after dress-up, is asking about the designers of your clothes and jewellery.

“It’s a Harry Winston piece. Uncle Jungkook gifted it to me,” you tell her.

“Really?” Her eyes widen. “He buys you so many sparkly things! Like that!” She points to your wedding ring. “Uncle Jungkook must love you so much. But – but he married you. So he has to.”

You help her put on the necklace. “What, you can’t love someone when you’re not married?”

Yumi shakes her head and giggles. “Noo, of course you can, silly. But you only get married when you know you will love them forever and ever.”

“You think Uncle Jungkook will love me forever?” You just feel slightly foolish for asking a child for reassurance.

She turns to you. A confused pout adorns her little face. It reminds you a bit of yourself.

“You don’t buy someone sparkly things when you don’t love them forever.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that so?” You grab her hand. “Come on, little girl. I got a few unopened gifts from designers I know you will love.”

Yumi squeals excitedly and follows you.

~

Sometime past midnight, Jungkook steps into the bedroom.

You lie in bed with your back to him. You were scrolling mindlessly on your phone – online shopping a little until Jungkook would come to bed, using his card just because. You put Yumi to bed in your guest bedroom hours ago.

“Jaehyun’s gala is in Italy next week,” he says, putting his phone on his bedside table. “You’re coming with me, right?”

You glance over your shoulder and glare at him a little. “No. Don’t wanna go all the way there just for a gala.” You hate flying. And flying to Italy to just stay there for a couple hours does not sound like something you want to do.

“We could have a little vacation for a few days.”

You tilt your head, watching him intently as if he’s setting you a trap. “How many days are we talking?” You sit up.

He ponders, probably going through his schedule in his mind. “Three days. At least.”

You sigh dramatically, though your chest feels giddy. “Fine. I’ll come. But I decide what we’re going to do every day.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “But I already know what you want to do anyway.” A little smirk dances on his lips.

“Oh, do you now?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he replies, eyes shining. “You’ll want to visit the Uffizi Gallery first, lose yourself in all that Renaissance art. Then, there’s the Pinacoteca di Brera because you’re in love with those masterpieces. Shopping at Via Montenapoleone is a given, of course.”

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably.

“You probably want to go to the Amalfi Coast too. You love the view and the town. And then dinner at La Pergola – you've been craving their dishes ever since the last time we went.” He sits down the edge of the bed, watching you with expectant eyes.

You shake your head at him. “You really do know me too well.”

His dimples appear. “Told you.” He looks so pleased with himself. “See? I like you way better like this.” Jungkook gently traces the curve of your smile with the pad of his finger. “And not when you’re glaring at me.”

“Then be nicer to me,” you huff.

His fingers hold your chin and his mouth meets yours. He kisses you so softly and you melt against him.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, love,” he whispers in between kisses. His hand is warm on your waist and he squeezes you slightly.

“Come to bed.” You plant a smooch on his jawline. “I can’t sleep without you.”

While Jungkook takes off his clothes, you lie down again, your mind racing with thoughts of what happened today.

“Why did you and Eunji separate?” you inquire, voice laced with curiosity.

You catch the exact moment Jungkook registers your question; one eyebrow lifts for a heartbeat before his lips pucker into a wistful pout, deep in thought.

He isn’t surprised by your random question. Jungkook is used to you asking things at unexpected moments. You always speak your mind when you’re with him. You’ve asked him this before, but you want to hear his answer again, especially after his mother mentioned her.

“It just didn’t work out anymore,” he says finally. He wears a pensive expression and you’d give everything to know which moments with Eunji are flashing before his eyes.

You wonder if he often reminisces about specific times with her, and your curiosity deepens. He still works with her, sees her quite often, so does he ever think about past times with her? When they were married? And a happy couple?

The thought makes your face twist into a little frown. Jungkook has you. There’s no reason for him to dwell on past relationships when he is married to you.

What kind of thoughts are these? You’ve never had them before.

“We had other plans on how our future would look like,” he tells you as he’s getting under the covers. “What’s wrong?” he asks once he looks over at you and sees your brows pulled together.

“Nothing,” you murmur, smoothing the blanket around you.

“Everything is strictly professional between us.” He’s watching you with attentive eyes. “We care more about our work than the personal stuff.”

You doubt you could say the same if you were in their shoes. But then again, dramatic as you are, you’ve never really gotten over anything in your life.

You still wonder why his mother mentioned his ex, but it doesn’t matter – she doesn’t. Jungkook loves you, and that’s all you care about.

“I know. I trust you.” With a knowing glint in your eyes, you nod once in agreement. “Have never trusted anyone as much, actually.” You turn on your side, resting your hand on his chest. He’s warm, and you feel a gentle calm settle over you.

Soft knocks interrupt you.

“Uncle Jungkook?” Yumi’s meek voice comes through from the other side. She slowly opens the door. “Can I sleep with you, please?”

Jungkook sits up. “Is something wrong?” he asks worriedly.

“Can’t sleep,” she mumbles and crawls up into your bed. Her curious eyes rake over the shiny, lacy nightgown you’re wearing as Jungkook helps her getting tucked in between the two of you. “That’s a beautiful colour,” she says sleepily, feeling the glossy material with the pads of her fingers.

“Thank you.” You smile down at her but she’s intensely staring at your nightgown with fascinated eyes.

“Such a sleepy girl and yet still wants to steal ___ clothes.” Jungkook boops her nose, and she giggles mischievously. “At this point, you just want everything that Aunt ___ wears.”

Yumi turns her head to him. “You have a very pretty girlfri – wife, Uncle Jungkook.”

Jungkook hums in agreement. “I know. She is insanely pretty.”

Your cheeks feel hot. And you feel silly, but so in love.

“Is that why you married her?”

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

“When I grow up, I want to be as pretty as Aunt ___” Her little eyes sparkle when they shift back to you. She scootches closer to you, cuddling your side.

“Oh,” you coo at her sweetness. “But you’re so pretty already.” You hesitantly brush her hair, taming the crazy bed hair. Jungkook watches you two with fondness softening his features.

“I know,” she yawns and ever so slowly her eyes fall closed.

“How did she fall asleep this quick?” You stare at the way her body falls and rises in rhythmic motions.

“I ask myself that every time when we go to sleep together.”

You sniff a laugh. You tend to fall asleep extremely fast when Jungkook is next to you.

“You’re just very comfortable.” You yearningly stare at his chest and his arm. You won’t be able to fall asleep on him, because miss Yumi is clinging to your side.

“Apparently you are too,” he muses.

You smile softly, looking down at Yumi’s peaceful face. The warmth of her small body pressed against yours fills you with a comforting sense of contentment. It’s a simple, unconditional love that you’ve always yearned for.

The room is quiet, save for the soft sounds of sleep. You close your eyes, feeling the weight of the day and the ache in your heart. As much as you cherish these moments, they also remind you of what’s missing.

But for now, you hold onto Yumi a little tighter, letting her innocent love soothe your restless mind, even as the doubts and fears linger in the corners of your heart.

[gabichanwrites]

I think that way too many people gloss over the reason why exactly those 6 men were such a big deal and a last straw for the crew and Eurylychous. Up to this point Odysseus made mistakes, yes, and people died because of them but never before has Odysseus made such a deliberate sacrifice.

Before this, he was still their Capitan - a bit arrogant, too prone to playing into Gods' Games and with a damnation right on his heels - but still on their side. Not to mention that this saga happens SO soon after Circe Saga, where he CAME BACK for them, put himself in grave danger and risked his return home to save THEM. Since the wind bag fuck up, this crew must have regained so much trust in him, Eurylychous must have felt so indebted and plagued by his own guilt because of his actions in Ocean Saga and Circe Saga. Because despite their doubts and question of How Much Longer Till His Luck Runs Out, their Capitan still came and saved them.

And then the Different Beast happens and it's ruthless and cruel but it's against their enemies, it feels like protection, no doubt. It's their Capitan making sure that they can make it home, that no other monster will follow them and make it impossible.

But then the Scylla happens and it never has been more clearer than there. Eurylychous would not be that furious if he didn't realize and he IS a second-in-command, he is not stupid. Six men who held the torches died and it was by Odysseus' order. This is no longer slaying every foe on the way home, this is Odysseus willing to sacrifice even them. Is it the same capitan who came back for them on Circe's island, is the same who always did everything he could to make sure they all made it back? How Are They Supposed To Trust Him Now?

This situation is so fucked and both sides have their point, I'm so sick of seeing posts putting the full blame on either side. They are all human and stressed and they don't know what to trust, what to do to come back home - and the worst part of it all, they probably never stood a chance.

After all, Zeus has already said they The Blood On Your Hands Is Something You Can't Lose, All You Can Choose Is Whose.

[primofate]

You are the embodiment of fairness...

is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.

The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.

The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.

"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.

"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.

"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"

You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.

Working hours.

As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.

"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"

and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.

"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.

"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."

One second.

Two.

Three seconds.

Four.

The crowd started to bristle a little.

At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.

At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"

Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.

"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.

"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"

The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.

You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.

Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.

"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"

The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.

Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!

Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - SERIES MASTERLIST (r.c) [completed]

synopsis: you find yourself in a desperate situation—held captive on the cargo ship with rafe and his ruthless father, ward. forced to be around the enemy more than ever, tensions run high as he's tasked with keeping a close eye on you. initially filled with hatred for each other, the lines begin to fade as you spend time in forced proximity. can you let yourself fall for the man who’s done so much damage to those you love? your connection is undeniable, but is it strong enough to overcome what brought you together in the first place?

༊*·˚ chapter one

༊*·˚ chapter two

༊*·˚ chapter three

༊*·˚ chapter four

༊*·˚ chapter five

༊*·˚ chapter six

༊*·˚ chapter seven

༊*·˚ PLAYLIST

[punkfistfights]

screams screams screams MEDIA ILLITERACY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME

if i see ONE MORE PERSON call eurylochus a hypocrite for being mad at odysseus for sacrificing those men to scylla, imma lose it!!

eurylochus DIDNT KNOW opening the bag would lead them to a murderous poseidon - and poseidon that was only so murderous because ODYSSEUS was a hubristic idiot who doxxed himself. do y’all think if eurylochus hadn’t opened the bag, poseidon just would never have attacked them???

and as for abandoning the men to circe, eurylochus had no idea that it would be possible to convince her to turn the men back - for all he knew, this was just going to lead his and odysseus’s deaths.

eurylochus is not the central character so we don’t get to see his thoughts but subtextually it’s pretty clear that he is also going through a character arc: while odysseus is learning to be ruthless, eurylochus is learning to never just give up, to trust that odysseus is going to get them all home.

eurylochus is angry with odysseus because odysseus purposefully sacrificed those men. odysseus did not warn them, did not try to come up with a way to defeat scylla, he just let six of their men be gruesomely killed.

and, finally, (and i personally thought this was clear) eurylochus killed the cow because he was STARVING and CLEARLY SUICIDAL. “how much longer must i suffer now? how much longer must i push through doubt? how much longer must i go about my life like this, when people die like this?” this is CLEARLY eurylochus at his last straw, he can’t take it anymore. he knows they’ll die and he (and seemingly the rest of the crew, minus odysseus) has accepted this.

it’s not until odysseus tries to make a plan to save them that he’s shocked out of his suicidal mindset and begins to regret the choice he and the crew made.

[jazjelspen]

scarlet and silver lining

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc still trying to get used to writing fics again lol/possible part 1 after the epilogue)

[Prologue]

You never truly got along with your 'father', not even in life until the passing of his mother.. your grandmother.

Technically she wasn't exactly your grandmother, and Alastor wasn't your father.. at least not by blood but by adoption papers. Poor Nana, she just wanted a little grandbaby running around the house before her days started getting counted down.

Alastor knowing that he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding a wife nor did he want to deal with the issues that came with that let alone the process to conceive a kid, with a heart full yet a hesitant hand he then signed your papers.. adopted you for the kind old woman at the age of six.

Orphaned by your parents sudden passing, you never truly found out why or how they died. Only thing you knew was that it was sudden, unprovoked, unasked for. They were healthy yet from what you could hear from the cops that took you from your empty home was that there was blood, lots of it.

With no family to take care of poor little you, you got thrown in an orphanage and stayed there hoping to be rescued and loved someday.

Till one day a man with a large smile and clean-cut clothes walked in with a gentle old lady, both talking to one of the adults in charge of the place. Eventually while touring the building they managed to find you hidden in a corner reading a picture book, reading about a baby deer finding his way in the world without his mother, this intrigued the lady and she started to speak to you.

No matter how much the man tried to get the lady to start moving to look at more options she was so stuck to you, your innocent and your little voice attempting to use big words entranced her poor heart and in that moment she just knew you had to be her granddaughter. After she said the word, the adult responsible led them to talk more and sign papers and the rest is history.

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

That was all you were willing to think far into when it came to your past, not wanting to remember what once was before falling into Hell.

You died around the 1940s, you followed in your fathers footsteps and created your own radio show before you died and being the daughter of Alastor in life had it's perks when he was famous in your home of New Orleans.

Although, you kept your secret deep in the ground when it came to your connection to Alastor. No way in hell would anyone know he was your adoptive father, you knew it'd only make you an even bigger target.

Especially to Vox, your boss and the demon that owned your soul.

Also the man that hated your father with his guts, but of course he didn't need to know any of that.

Your contract with him allowed you to be on his show, have a segment of it, get the royalties from it and be under his protection and his roof, in exchange you do any job he asks you to do no matter how hard or long it gets.

God did you hate transitioning from radio to TV, you were never fond of those color video boxes.. they lacked personality and were shallow in the content they produced. but hey, you needed to survive in hell somehow so why not just throw your soul to this TV guy to stay safe from the exterminations and other ruthless sinners.

You died around the time when the Radio Demon was barley getting the word out and showing his true power, the day you recognized his voice and heard his name blasted everywhere was when you knew he was worser than you thought, you didn't think he was this much of a sadist in life.. he must've hid it incredibly well from you then.

And you hated him for that.

Hated him for killing innocents, his sadistic tendencies, his power, his smile, his singing and his lies. His lies that he was your kind ol' dad that would do nothing wrong.

God.

But here you were now in present time being forced to be at the Hazbin Hotel by Vox.

Your hand currently leaning over to knock on the door ready to knock. You'd be warned that Alastor was here, and were warn to be more careful with your words and actions considering how badly Sir Pencious messed up before. This time bringing no technology with you but your head, memory, and a few things to sleep a few nights at this establishment. You were told that you would get more royalties and more perks like even getting your own show to rule over completely if you succeeded in this mission.. and god did you need your own place and studio so that Valentino didn't bother you any longer.

Your lips parted to let out a shaky sigh, a sweat bead running down your forehead down to the side of your face.

'c'mon ____, keep it together will ya?..' your thoughts scolded at you,

Your free hand wiped it away before finally knocking on the door of the hotel, hands shaky and your practiced smile of years

The door opening and being met with the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar.

You could've sworn you felt the red eyes of a certain radio demon stare at you full force behind the princess's back.

Charlie gasped, seemingly more than ever excited to see someone new.

Your lips parted and started to move, you thoughts racing as you could feel more people stare from behind the royal.

You knew you'd regret doing this mission, Alastor being involved in it should've kept you away..

but if there was a chance to either get a solution to fully get away from the V's or to benefit from them if you did all this right, then so be it.

"Hello.. you must be Charlie right.. My name is ______ and I heard you are redeeming sinners? Your highness, I believe in your cause.. please help me relieve myself of my sins."

Your hands went from holding your luggage to clasping together with a face full of worry and a need to get better. Even you were unsure if you meant what you said, but you just knew that you knew what you had to do no matter what.. you would benefit from this somehow.

"Please, let me redeem yourself in your Hazbin Hotel, Princess Morningstar."

(hello readers!! thank you so much for taking a look at this epilogue of a possible new pic series! I actually made this fanfic almost three years ago on quotev but I want to bring it to life in a different fashion and new writing, so I hope you can stick around till the end of this series!!)

[pbnbucks]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MORE NIKA X READER X PAIGE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

word count : 878

warnings : smut, degrading, cussing

summary : nika and paige catch you breaking the no touching rule

your moans filled the empty apartment as the two girls left you home alone to be with their team.

to say the girls have been giving you endless attention was a overstatement. the past month you haven’t had any physical touch with the girls including no sex, this is the most distant your relationship has been.

you were now breaking one of the most important set of rules to them, the no touching yourself rule.

your pleasing yourself by riding the life sized teddy bear that they won at the fair for you. grinding against the thick cotton stuffed animal bringing you to your high only to be cut short when your met with nikas fake cough announcing herself as you look behind you to see nika and paiges angry face.

nikas stomps growing louder as she makes her way to you snatching the teddy bear from under you.

“nika” you whine out begging for her attention only to be met with a sharp smack to your dripping cunt as she grabs your chin pulling your face to look at her

“so this is what you do when were not home? you enjoy breaking the rules?” her grip on your chin tightened as paige comes up behind you with the familiar strap now on her as she rubs the cold tip of the silicone down your back before pushing you on your stomach and pushing the toy in to you not letting you adjust to the thickness of the strap.

“we hear one noise and its game over pretty” nika moves the hair from out of your face before placing a loud smack on to your butt cheek before coming down to your ear

“i want you to count for me? think you can do that” you hum in response as paiges thrust in and out of you never faulter as nika places another smack to your tender skin.

“one” you cry out as she rubs the skin she before placing another another smack rubbing the skin after “two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight” you cry out as their ruthless actions creating a endless amount of pleasure for you.

“oh is that turning you on pretty” nika teases you at the needyness your expressing for the girls.

“yes mommy feels so good” you moan out fucking yourself back on paige, as paige takes it upon herself to grab a handful of your hair forcing you to look at her as she pounds into your guts. you walls clenching easier this time as you have now been denied a release

“paigey im gonna cum” you cry out as her thrust grow faster pushing you into release but before you can she pulls out make you cry out from the denial.

“aww poor baby did you think i would really let you cum yet” she teases you making nika chuckle at your crys for her “nika ill let you have your fun with her” she places a kiss on your sensitive folds before leaving to go take a shower leaving the empty strap laying on the floor.

“oh what should i do with you pretty” she coos in your ear as she flips you on to your back peppering kisses on your bare stomach.

she pulls you down to the edge of the bed as the slips the used strap on still coated in your slick putting the strap in your face making it known that she wants you to suck your liquids of the strap.

you fall down to your knees as you wrap your mouth around the silicone strap pushing your face down hitting your nose against her stomach.

she lifts you up pushing you on to the bed pushing your legs apart. “such a beautiful girl” she coos slowly slipping in the strap as tears fall down your cheeks wiping them away with her thumb. her movements refuse to fault speeding up with each thrust.

“feels so good mommy” you sob out as the loud noises of your skin bouncing of each other echoes throughout the room along with the shower head running during paiges shower.

“love you so bad pretty girl” she please running the back of her hand on your cheek helping the knot form in your stomach.

you bring your hands to rest or her lower stomach stopping the harsh friction of her pounding in to you except she grabs your wrist locking them together with her hands above your head.

“nika m’gonna cum, need to cum so bad” you beg her hoping she will let you have your release, she brings her other hand pressing down on your stomach breaking the knot in your stomach as your liquids coat the silicone sliding in and out of you.

your sobs grow louder as she helps you ride out your high before pulling out leaving you on the bed panting. “you like when we have you all fucked out princess” she says placing a trail of kisses from your lower stomach going up to your neck as you hum in response.

“you ever going to pull a stunt like that again?” she questions as you pull her body on to yours “never” you mumble your response as you place a kiss on her lips.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[avocadorablepirate]

Unspoken Affections

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: Falling for the captain of the Heart Pirates a.k.a your captain, was something unexpected, something that shouldn’t have happened. So to suppress those growing feelings one must resort to avoidance. But alas, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, short mention of a near death experience, reader refuses to confront her feelings, not fully proofread (let me know if there’s anything else)

A/N: This and another fic have been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I finally managed to finish this one, though it’s kinda all over the place. I was listening to my Taylor Swift playlist practically on repeat when I wrote this. So, if you want something to listen to while you read this I would recommend Slut, Daylight and Cruel Summer, but honestly any Taylor Swift song would probably work.

I swear I’ll rewrite that summary once I can think of something better :’)

You were not sure when it had started. Your heart racing at just the sight of him. Maybe it was in his little gestures. The little ways in which he helped you without expecting anything in return, like wordlessly helping you fix things around the ship when he knew you had trouble with it. The way he made sure you were comfortable, like simply giving you a reassuring smile when you needed it most. Whatever it was, you knew you had fallen hard.

It first occurred to you unfortunately after a near miss with death. You had joined the Heart Pirates on their journey through the Grand Line about six months ago, and while you had become akin to battles with rival pirate crews, this particular one had shaken you to your core. The opposing crew had been ruthless, and their relentless assault left you feeling more and more helpless as the fight progressed. The magnitude of the fight, combined with the unpredictability of the rival crew’s movements, had pushed you to the edge both figuratively and literally.

You had been cornered by the enemy, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you had slipped. As you plummeted into the giant chasm behind you, fear consumed you. The wind roared in your ears, and your stomach churned as you braced yourself for the inevitable impact that would surely mean your end. The seconds seemed to stretch, the world slowing down as you watched the surface above you get further and further away in slow motion.

Your only saving grace was your Captain's ability to shift objects, and he had done just that, transporting you back onto the Polar Tang where him and the rest of the crew had managed to escape onto.

The cold, metallic walls of the submarine pressed against your back as you fell to the floor in relief, but despite the safety, anxiety continued to build inside you. Your breath came in ragged, uncontrollable gasps. You could hear the muffled voices of your crewmates calling out to you, but they seemed distant. Your vision blurred, and the room spun around you. It wasn’t until a strong, steady hand reached out to you that the figure of your captain finally came into focus.

Trafalgar Law knelt beside you, his concern etched into his features. His touch was gentle yet firm, grounding you in that chaotic moment, and his voice, steady and reassuring, cut through the haze of panic.

"Hey, easy now," he murmured, his hand on your shoulder. "Everything will be okay. You’re safe now."

You managed a shaky nod, trying to regain your composure. His presence was enough to ease the tightness in your chest, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. As you steadied yourself against him, you couldn't help but notice how his eyes had softened with genuine worry, his concern evident even in the dim light of the submarine.

"Thank you," you finally managed to whisper, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions.

He offered you a reassuring smile, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you realized just how much his actions and presence had come to mean to you. It wasn't just admiration or gratitude; it was something more, something that had taken root in the chaos of the Grand Line, and something you knew you had to keep hidden.

xxxx

Over the next few days, Law made it a habit to check in on you. You would know by the distinct knock on your bedroom door who was on the other side. Be it just before breakfast or well into the night when he knew you stayed awake too, he was there, outside your door, concern etched on his face as he did a once over of you. And every time he would - asking the simple question of how you were, your heart would flutter uncomfortably. You appreciated his care, and found yourself increasingly drawn to him. But it also stirred emotions you hadn’t anticipated. Emotions you knew you shouldn’t have been feeling for your captain.

“The Captain again?” came Ikkaku’s voice, as you yet again leant against your shared bedroom door after tonight’s encounter with Law. You nodded your head, letting out a sigh as you pushed yourself off the door and flopped down on your bed. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with liking him, right?” Ikkaku said as she sat up in her bed. Another routine that had started over the past couple of days were your nightly chats with Ikkaku. It had started almost immediately after she saw you return from your first “check-up” with Law, completely flustered. And having put two and two together, had come to the conclusion that you had finally realised that you liked Law as more than just a captain or friend.

"I know, but I can’t," you almost cried in frustration as you clenched the bed sheet in your hands. The fear of what your feelings might mean for your position on the ship, and for your relationship with Law, was overwhelming and impossible to comprehend.

“And why not?” Ikkaku pressed gently, her curiosity piqued as she tried to understand your dilemma.

“Well for starters he’s my captain, that would be insubordination. Not to mention there’s no way in hell that he likes me as well.” You sat up, your face a mix of distress and resignation as you met her gaze, the hopelessness of your situation sinking in. The thought of confessing your feelings only to be rejected was terrifying.

“I need to get rid of these feelings quickly,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. The stress of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders, your mind racing for a solution. You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but the thought of losing what little connection you had with Law was equally unbearable.

Ikkaku nodded, though she looked a bit hesitant. “I’m not completely for it, but if you’re determined to get rid of them, maybe you should try keeping your distance from him. It might help you sort out your feelings.” Her suggestion was cautious, but her eyes reflected her hope that it would help you find some peace. She didn’t fully agree with it, but she wanted to support you in whatever way she could.

“That might just work,” you said, relief washing over you. You were willing to try anything to escape this lovelorn feeling, even if it meant avoiding the person who made you feel safest. The prospect of distancing yourself from Law was painful, but you hoped it would give you just what you needed to sort things out.

xxxx

For the first couple of days avoiding Law was surprisingly manageable. You had an endless list of excuses, and navigating around the submarine to avoid him wasn’t that difficult. He spent most of his time in his quarters or in the infirmary anyway, and if you did happen to see him coming down the hall, you would quickly turn the other way before he noticed. When you did have to speak to him, you kept your interactions with him to a minimum, giving short, polite responses whenever he spoke to you.

But then it got difficult. You could see that he was slowly starting to see through your excuses. His sharp, observant nature made it hard to deceive him for long. The slight disappointment in his eyes after each excuse made your heart wrench. It was subtle, a flicker of emotion that he quickly masked, but you noticed it every time. The guilt gnawed at you, making it harder to avoid him without feeling like you were betraying his trust. Each day became a struggle to maintain the distance you thought you needed, the effort draining your energy and resolve.

So tonight, when you heard the familiar knock at your door, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him. You hated that you had to do this, but you were adamant, and had convinced yourself that it would only be for a little longer. Just until your feelings had completely gone.

Ikkaku answered the door in your stead, not failing to notice the slight dismay in Law’s gaze when it landed on her. His usual calm demeanor seemed to falter for a moment, a twitch of concern and confusion crossing his features.

“Hey Captain what do you need?” she asked, peeping her head through the little gap she had made between the door and its frame. She tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping it would put him at ease. However, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, already questioning why she had answered the door instead of you.

“Is Y/N-ya inside?” Law asked as he tried to catch a glimpse into the room but Ikkaku was quick to block his view. His voice held a hint of impatience, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to look past her.

“She is but she’s not feeling well,” Ikkaku responded, hoping her excuse would be enough to satisfy his concern without raising too many questions.

Law frowned slightly. “What’s wrong? Does she need help?” His voice was tinged with worry, his eyes lingering on the door as if hoping you might come out and speak to him. His concern was genuine, his protective instincts kicking in. He hated feeling helpless, especially when it came to the well-being of his crew.

“Uhh,” Ikkaku stuttered, trying to think of what to say next. “Yeah, you know, just a visit from Aunt Flo.” She cringed inwardly, knowing it was a terrible excuse, but hoping it would suffice.

Law quirked an eyebrow, but ultimately brushed aside her words with a curt nod. “Alright. Tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Will do Captain!” Ikkaku replied with forced cheer, her voice tinged with a touch of nervousness, before she briskly closed the door, leaning against it, as she let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, I think that went well,” she said, turning to you. She tried to smile, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes.

“A visit from Aunt Flo!?” you exclaimed, half exasperated, half amused. You couldn’t believe the excuse she had come up with, but you were grateful nonetheless. The absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh, a brief respite from the constant anxiety.

“It was the best I could come up with!” Ikkaku defended herself, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

“It’s fine. At least he didn’t press any further,” you responded with a hint of a chuckle, feeling relieved.

Satisfied with the outcome of today’s excuse, you sank onto your bed, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. The small victory felt like a reprieve. That victory, however, didn’t last very long.

The next day when Bepo met you in the kitchen for breakfast, you found yourself back to square one.

“Hey Y/N, Captain wanted me to give this to you,” Bepo said, handing you a small pouch.

“Thanks,” you replied, opening the bag to look at its contents. Inside was a strip of tablets and a little note that had been written, scratched out, and rewritten again. It read: "I hope you’re feeling better. These should help with your cramps."

You could feel your heart pounding, as if desperate to just pop out of your chest. The thoughtfulness of the gesture, the care in his words, made your resolve waver. You knew you couldn't keep this up forever, but the fear of confronting your feelings was still too overwhelming.

xxxx

Law wasn’t dense. He could easily read every single one of his crew, and he knew you were avoiding him. But why? He didn’t have an answer to that.

He found his usual connection with his crew slipping, particularly when it came to you. At first, he didn't think much of your evasive behaviour, attributing it to stress or fatigue or a visit from Aunt Flo, as Ikkaku had so wonderfully put it. But as days turned into weeks, he couldn't ignore the growing sense of unease gnawing at him.

Each excuse, chipped at his confidence and fueled his anxiety. He noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor - how you avoided eye contact, how your conversations with him grew increasingly terse and formal. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. With no indirect way to uncover your reasons, his logical mind spiraled into illogical conclusions, each worse than the last.

Days passed, and his worry only intensified, causing his temper to flare more easily. Tensions were high on the Polar Tang; even the smallest mistake would rattle the captain, and the crew had to bear the brunt of it.

It was only on Shachi’s request that they finally got a chance to step away from the tension, and let some steam off. And that’s how Law found himself at a bar in the town they had docked at, watching you closely. Despite being surrounded by the lively chatter of his crew and the raucous energy of the bar, all he could do was focus on you. His sharp eyes caught the fleeting glances you threw his way, the way your laughter seemed forced, and how you tensed whenever his eyes met yours. His frustration grew, but so did his concern. And when he saw you leave, visibly upset, he knew he couldn’t sit back any longer and watch his relationship with you dissolve into nothing, knowing he could have done something about it.

The decision to follow you was immediate and driven by a mix of worry, frustration, and something deeper - something he wasn't ready to fully acknowledge - yet.

xxxx

A couple of weeks had passed since you started avoiding Law, and the strain of your self-imposed distance was beginning to show. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out, and for whatever reason today had been particularly difficult. So, when Shachi had suggested that the crew unwind at a lively bar in a bustling port town, you were all for it. Terrible mistake on your part really.

While you had thought that a night out drinking was just what you needed to distract you from your inner turmoil, it was certainly not what the doctor wanted to prescribe. In fact, it seemed that he wanted you to only continue with this wretched feeling, when he entered the bar. But why wouldn’t the captain be with his crew? You realised you hadn’t thought this through only when you felt your heart tighten painfully in your chest.

As the night progressed, you did your best to keep your distance, sticking mainly to Ikkaku and whoever wasn’t around Law. However, he still posed as a problem, your eyes kept drifting towards him, unable to help yourself. God…of all the shirts he owned, why did he have to wear that black button down that clung to him so well?

At one point, you noticed a group of girls approach Law���s table. They were giggling and clearly intrigued by the mysterious captain. You noticed the surge of irritation on his face when one of them leaned in close, her hand resting on his arm as she spoke to him, and you couldn’t help but be amused by your captain’s obvious annoyance. However, as he continued to barely engage in conversation with them, his responses brief and his gaze often wandering away from them, you couldn’t stop your stomach from twisting with jealousy, an emotion you hadn't expected to feel so intensely.

Despite his apparent disinterest, the sight of them fawning over him was too much for you to handle. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the jealousy and frustration slowly brewing inside you making it harder to think clearly. Needing to escape, you excused yourself from your crewmates and slipped out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed face as you made your way back to the Polar Tang.

On the quiet deck of the submarine you found solace. Free from the loud noises of the bar, and the chaos within it, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within you. You were starting to realise that avoiding Law clearly wasn’t the solution, but confronting your feelings still felt like a hopeless challenge. Your mind raced to find another way.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you knew that voice; it made your breath hitch. Turning around you saw Law coming towards you, his expression serious but speckled with concern. You cursed at yourself for not hearing his footsteps approaching.

“Captain, what are you doing here?” Your heart skipped a beat, your anxiety slowly bubbling below the surface.

“I saw you leave in a hurry, so I thought I would check up on you. Is everything okay?” Law asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

You shook your head slightly, suddenly unable to trust your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Silence settled between you, stretching on until Law finally broke it with a gentle inquiry.

“Y/N-ya,” he called out your name hesitantly, voice tinged with apprehension, “why have you been avoiding me?”

You stiffened at his words, and opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words you wanted to say were trapped, tangled up with your emotions, and his piercing gaze that held you in place, wasn’t of much help either. You could see the worry in his eyes intensify with each passing second of your silence, his brows knitting together as he waited for an answer that seemed too difficult to give.

“Do you want to leave the crew?” he asked, his tone steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. The idea of you leaving clearly troubled him more than he let on, and your heart sank at the implication. “No, it’s not that,” you finally managed to say, voice trembling.

“Then what is it? Are you scared because of what happened to you when we were fighting those pirates?” There was a hint of desperation in Law’s tone, his need to understand and help you evident. His eyes searched yours, pleading for an explanation, and you could see how much he wanted to make things right even if he didn’t fully grasp what was wrong.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and gather the courage to say something, anything. “No…I-I just need some time to sort things out.”

Law watched you intently, as if trying to decipher the emotions flickering across your face. “You know you can tell me anything right?” he said in a soft voice, his eyes never leaving yours, and you let out a bitter laugh at that.

“This is something I don’t think I can,” you said, the weight of the impending confession settling over you.

Law’s brow furrowed, the concern in his eyes deepening. “Why not? What’s so bad that you can’t talk to me about it?” He sounded frustrated, almost begging you to tell him.

You took a deep breath, your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "It's just...complicated," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to burden you with it."

"It's not a burden if it's about you," he replied softly, his eyes searching yours as he stepped closer to you. “Please, Y/N-ya, tell me what’s wrong.”

His words broke through the last of your resistance, and you realized you couldn't keep this inside any longer. You owed it to yourself and to him to be honest. Taking another deep breath, you finally found the courage to speak.

"Law, I've been avoiding you because…because I-I like you, and I don’t know how to handle it, and I thought staying away would make it easier, but it hasn't. But I promise I’ll figure out a better way to deal with these feelings if you just give me some time."

For a moment, there was silence, and you held your breath as you waited for his response. Then, to your surprise, Law reached out his hand, gently lifting your chin until your eyes met his. "It's okay," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His expression was soft and understanding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I've been worried about you," he said, his voice tender. "I've been thinking about you constantly, wondering if you were okay. And to tell you the truth, it’s made me realise that I like you too."

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, hope blooming within you. "You…you do?" you managed, unable to believe it.

He nodded slowly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when he noticed your surprise. "I didn't want to push you," he explained softly. "I thought if I did, you would only have more reason to leave, and I couldn't stand the thought of that happening.”

Relief flooded through you, mingled with a newfound surge of courage. "I wasn't going to leave," you admitted, your voice steadier now. "I was just afraid…of what I was feeling."

Law's smile widened, his eyes warm and sincere. "You don't have to be afraid," he assured you, his hand moving to hold yours, while his other remained caressing your cheek. "Because I feel it too."

In that moment, the tension that you had felt in your chest eased, replaced by a sense of overwhelming happiness. Feeling a sense of peace settle over you, you leaned into his touch.

"I'm glad," you whispered, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. The warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but let your affection for the man standing before you surge.

Law mirrored your smile, his gaze tender as he leaned closer. "Me too," he murmured, before closing the distance between you in a soft, lingering kiss.

Had to add an unnecessary little bit about Law’s shirt cause damn it I love Law in that shirt.

Thus starts my slow attempt to get my other fics out of my drafts. Let’s hope this determination lasts longer cause knowing me I’m going to give up by tomorrow…anyway, I hope you liked this!