#she definitely struggled growing up and the only two people she kept in her heart from her life before jujutsu were people that

[torgawl]

i think what hits most about nobara's backstory is everything that's left unsaid and peaks from between the lines. it's the fact you can easily infer that something was wrong without ever having clear answers on what exactly was wrong. but if you can relate to the feeling of wanting to escape a place and the alienation from everyone around you, especially when you're brought up in small communities, then you can certainly understand, if not fully then partially, nobara herself and the struggles she might have had to face all by herself for a very long time; maybe even the importance fumi and saori had in her life and the pain from having to part from them; and, perhaps the selectiveness in letting people in that she later on develops as well.

[chvoswxtch]

to the halloween queen, i hope this october is treating you well!! i was wondering if i could request a gut wrenching, angsty fic with billy based on paramore’s sanity?

if i call out your name, you don’t come/

no one home, but the void is loud/

echoes around my empty house/

sentences are slowing down

in all honesty, i don’t have many specifics in mind. i was thinking of an established relationship slowly but surely growing apart. to the point they eat dinner in silence, the distance between them whilst sleeping in the same bed grows more and more…in other words, i am asking you to break my heart!

i go by she/her pronouns and they can be used!

<3 thank you, take care, and ily <3

oh my darling sweet nonnie, you definitely came to the right place. I hope october has been kind to you, bc i'm about to break your heart as requested. i'll be here with tissues afterwards 🖤

warning: swearing, slight mention of alcohol, heavy angst word count: 1.4k

sanity.

no one home, but the void is loud / echoes around my empty house

The white noise of bustling traffic was muffled by the dull roar of an icy midnight breeze slowly fading in the background. Through the grand floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, you could see brilliant lights twinkling in a kaleidoscope of colors, vehicles zipping by in a flash in various directions, and masses of people navigating the city by heart. Outside, New York City was clamoring proudly with life.

But in the emptiness of the penthouse, it was so silent and still that the sound of fresh snow hitting the glass was as loud as thunder cracking across the sky.

In a place that more than three million people called home, you had never felt more alone. Standing in front of the expansive windows with the chill radiating through the glass nipping at your nose and cheeks, you felt completely numb and simultaneously like an open wound at the same time. It didn’t always feel this cold.

Last year at this exact same time, this place still felt like home. You could still feel the heat from the flames dancing in the fireplace licking at your skin while the golden glow of the fire created a warm and comforting ambiance in the living room. You could still taste the richness of hot cocoa caressing your tongue, and still hear the sound of Billy’s heartbeat playing in your ear while your head rested on his chest as the two of you admired the tree you had put up together from the couch. Billy had insisted on going all out since he had never really celebrated the holidays before due to growing up in the system. 

In a moment of sincere vulnerability while you were teaching him your special recipe for chocolate chip cookies, Billy had revealed to you that you were the first person he’d ever had to make the holidays feel special. It had been such a big deal to him to make sure everything was perfect, and it made your heart swell like a balloon in your rib cage seeing the childlike happiness on his face as the two of you celebrated together.

That special time now felt like a lifetime ago.

Now, there was only the scent of stale ash in the fireplace, and the absence of Billy’s holiday spirit lingering along the mantle and in the corner of the living room.

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the line, something changed. Billy no longer stopped by your work because he was “in the neighborhood” and just wanted to see you. Conversations became shorter and shorter at dinner until it reached the point of the two of you eating in deafening silence, and then ultimately you found yourself eating alone. Billy no longer wrapped himself around you in bed like a security blanket, and instead you found an ocean between you that kept growing wider and wider until you were stranded in the middle of it alone struggling to keep your head above water. He began to travel more, spent longer hours at the office, and lately would go days without speaking to you at all.

There was no more playful banter and flirtatious teasing in crowded spaces. It had been five months since you and Billy had gone on an actual date, and he had barely touched you in three.  On the rare occasion that he made it home at a decent hour, he ignored your passionate advances and locked himself away in his home office. You and Billy used to not be able to keep your hands off one another, and now you couldn’t even get him to give you a simple peck on the cheek. You couldn’t even remember the last time that he had told you he loved you.

For the past few months, there was a heavy sense of grief weighing on your heart like liquid cement almost as if Billy had died. He would appear suddenly, and then vanish right before your eyes even quicker like an apparition. He barely acknowledged your presence when you called out to him, as if you were the ghost lingering around. The last time you had reached for his hand, it was cold and stiff like that of a corpse. You fought defiantly against the stage of acceptance and refused to admit to yourself that your relationship was decaying in the grave. Instead you remained stubbornly stuck in a purgatory of mourning for the Billy you had fallen in love with, feeling haunted by your own foolish hope and his lingering presence in your heart.

Denial plagued you for months as you frantically tried everything to resuscitate the pulse in your relationship. You changed your hair a few times and put more effort into your outfits and appearance, which consistently went unnoticed by Billy. You planned romantic dates and elaborate getaway trips that he instantly declined. The past three times you had attempted to surprise him at the office for lunch, you couldn’t even get past his receptionist. 

Most nights you spent alone, drowning in your own agony, screaming and sobbing at the stars for answers because Billy wasn’t there to provide them. In moments of over indulgence from the built in bar, you nearly gave into your desperation and participated in the reckless thoughts intrusively entering your head that you were absolutely sure would capture Billy’s attention. But then the epiphany that you felt like you had to put yourself in a dangerous situation just for him to notice you again would shatter your soul into a thousand jagged pieces.

Had you done something to make Billy become so distant? Was he going through something he felt he couldn’t talk to you about? Did he love you at all anymore? Was there someone else? 

That last question made you violently nauseous. The not knowing what was happening with Billy drove you absolutely fucking mad, and you tried every method you could think of to stop the hemorrhaging to salvage what the two of you had. 

But eventually, the weight of the blood staining your hands was impossible to ignore, and the tone of a flatline rang loudly in your ears. The heaviness you felt was a clear sign that there was no longer life left in what you and Billy had created together, and the warm thrum of a pulse would never be found again.

You didn’t bother to tell Billy that you were leaving. The eulogy had already been engraved on the headstone months ago, you just couldn’t bring yourself to read it. Taking one last glance around the penthouse that had been your shared home, all you could think about was the day you first moved in. Everything had looked so bright, felt so warm and inviting, and Billy had been ecstatic to share a home with you. He had told you that you were what made the place feel like home, and in a moment of candor entrusted you with the sentiment of how happy it made him to finally have someone to come home to.

But now as you stood in the middle of the living room in the dark, it just felt cold and empty. Billy had been gone for two weeks on a business trip and was supposed to return home tomorrow, but this time you wouldn’t be there waiting by the door to welcome him back. After finally finding the strength to face the heartbreaking truth of your reality, you had spent the past twenty-four hours removing every trace of your existence. There was only one last thing to erase.

The devastating loss had left your heart maimed, and the memories of Billy’s touch afflicted phantom bruises onto your skin. It was time to tend to your own wounds and mend the parts of you that had been broken by him. After one final look around, you placed the handcrafted engagement ring on the kitchen island like a rose on a coffin as a silent goodbye and quietly disappeared into the depths of midnight.

tags: @nolita-fairytale @thyme-in-a-bubble @mars-rants-a-lot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @topperthornton

[themonotonysyndrome]

Desmond verse - Hell hath no fury - for she is here

An Ask on Tumblr led me to write this oneshot in a single night. The writing frenzy was super fun though!

A huge shoutout to Deadmeme Jack, another awesome writer in this fandom (read her fics. They're awesome!). She literally sat down on a Discord call with me for more than 4 hours to help edit through this fic. I've learned a lot from her and had so much fun! So thank you, Jack! You're the Queen of Beta Readers everywhere!

Tagging: @moonandstarlightsposts @itsdaifuku @neptune-cinths @theealluringstoryteller @the-bewitching-hour-at-4 @daveyistheloml

Summary: Before she’s a woman, Celica is the Imperial Baroness of the Coastal Empire first and foremost. But when her dignity as a woman is wounded, she’s more than happy to remind Rhett, Castin, and every Intacians present why a woman’s wrath is akin to hellfire.  

OR

A ‘what if’ oneshot where after being publicly humiliated during her Intacian debut and being told not to make a scene, Baroness Anesidora refuses to hold her tongue.

-

Celica could remember the day her world shifted on its perfect axis. 

Ezekiel greeted her morning, carrying a pot of Black Assam and a pink diamond necklace tucked in a velvet box - the first piece made from her mines and a promising start to a profitable collection. Tea and gems - a wonderful combination that would brighten any woman’s day.

Only for her best friend (who had been missing for months) to quite literally crash through her bedroom window (which was most definitely not on the ground floor), startling the poor maids solely to confess that she had fallen in love with a man - A Witch Hunter of all things! 

Yes, the Baroness knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Though she still called the doctor to check her brain and later the Exorcist. Just for good measure.  Once her friend was deemed ‘somehow - actually sane’. She deemed it a good measure for all to wash up. 

Clad in her freshly steamed bathrobe (“Thank you, Ezekiel”), the maids resumed preparing the Baroness for the day ahead, Celica kept her mind open as Isolde Vermillion waxed on and on about her and Rhett’s vision for Intacia and the Coastal Empire. About how future generations deserve to grow up without centuries of war looming above their heads and that peace is long overdue. She hums when needed, nodded at some of the points that would benefit the Anesidora Household in the long run and even humoured Isolde’s tales of her misadventures.

However, those weren’t enough to quell her anger over Isolde’s abduction. Even if something allegedly good came out of it.  

“It’s clear that the two of you put lots of thought into this,” The Baroness remarked, faux blithe. In front of the vanity mirror, she struggles to muster a smile when one of the maids delicately drapes the new necklace around the column of her neck. In apropos of nothing, Celica asks, “That reminds me, have you heard of the rose bushes they planted at the academy grounds recently? Rumour has it that they are fast becoming a romantic spot for couples.” 

The smile on the Water Ascendant’s face froze. She put down the cup of tea and exhaled slowly, understanding the true nature behind the Baroness’ words. Gambling, mind games and layered conversations - the favourite pastime of Imperial Nobility, her friend being no different. Isolde began to choose her words wisely as Celica dismissed her maids with a stilted smile and soft tilt of her head.

“I… I know it doesn’t make sense, but after everything I’ve been through, I understand that Rhett is actually a good man. He’s far from perfect, but his heart is always in the right place, his head is always thinking about what’s best for his country and people. But he also carries a lot of regret for what he did as a Witch Hunter, Celica. The assault at the academy? Those deaths? It’s all because of this-this forsaken war! Both sides are equally the sinner and victim, you do agree don’t you?” The Ascendant implored her, beautiful green eyes all but begging. 

Celica said nothing. Truth be told, she couldn’t have cared less about the war since it has never affected her or her business. That is, until Isolde’s disappearance frightened her enough to learn everything she could about the Witch Hunter’s organisation and Intacia’s standing in the war. Pushed her enough to smuggle a group of Ascendants to Intacia’s naval base just so they could rescue Isolde. And if the worst came to be, avenge her best friend by any means necessary. 

“I don’t care about the war, Isolde. I care about you,” The Baroness genuinely admits, causing the other woman to flinch, eyes wide in shock. Shock, as if she hadn’t considered the content of the characters of those who stood beside her.

‘Of course, she wouldn’t have’.

“You know of my duties. You know I must put the welfare of the Empire and her Royal Family first. Most people don’t even know a war is going on right now. But you and Reyes are the only friends that I have - Do you understand how scared for your life I was when you disappeared, Isolde? How, even now, as we’re sitting together for the first time in months, I am desperately trying to understand how you could ever fall in love with your enemy?” She tried not to spit out the words, but she could feel some of her loathing seep through.

Such framing seemed selfish. Perhaps because she was raised without parents to love her and moulded by the strict and indifferent Imperial customs throughout her life; a dark part of her refuses to feel guilty about said selfishness. Call it nurture or nature it does not matter, everything considered the Baroness possessively protects those she cares for. 

It was the honesty in that selfishness - perhaps even the vulnerability - that Isolde appreciated. Likewise, even reciprocated. Pushing herself off the settee to kneel in front of the Baroness, Isolde placed her hands on top of Celica’s. 

“Then, as your best friend, I beg you, give Rhett a chance. Try to understand that he’s more than just an enemy; he’s the man I love. A man that will bring an end to this war. We just need your help to make it happen.” She squeezed her hands with fondness. “I believe in him. I believe the future we can make together, and I want you there with me.”

And because Isolde is one of hers, Celica closed her eyes and nodded once. Setting the motions that utterly destroyed her old life. 

***

Today is the same day that Isolde returned to her a month ago. It seemed longer given all that had happened. Only this day marks an important occasion for everyone involved. 

In a land where commoners, warriors and politicians could mingle and receive first-hand news on where Intacia was heading in the future, information was the new great power - if only by becoming a more visible player in the game of politics. Something the new monarchs were keenly aware of as they made the arrangements for Celica’s debut. Celica’s own political machinations had been kept hidden from the public eye. Yet, no matter how quiet Celica’s arrival was, rumours still spread like wildfire; an Imperial Noble was amongst them. Keeping things under wraps became more difficult the longer Celica was kept hidden. A fine balance was to be struck; too rushed a debut would inspire disaster in a country that held great animosity towards her stature, whilst too delayed would leave them losing the upper hand it granted them should she be exposed. 

Tonight, the royal palace was alive with music and buzzing excitement. Food and drinks are plenty for all, with everyone enjoying themselves. Most of them were blatantly staring at Celica from afar. She had been instructed earlier to rest at the quiet corners of the banquet, completely covered from head to toe in her white dress, tight puffed sleeves with a beautifully ornate lace as the chest piece.

No one dared approach her. 

The Baroness was just mentally debating fixing herself a plate of macaroons from the table when King Rhett - her best friend’s enemy, kidnapper and husband - decided to make himself known with a neat bow. 

It would have been considered quite polite by Imperial standards. Had he not also made a concerted effort to stare into her eyes beyond the embroidered veil. ‘It’s not their culture’ She assured herself, ignoring the nagging doubt in her mind that Isolde would have already taught him this.

“Baroness, a word?” 

Celica gave him a curt nod. Together they stepped away from listening ears.

He continued;

“The Queen wanted me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t be here,” Celica felt her heart sink just a little at that. “But we both wanted to thank you again for your cooperation. I know this is likely not what you imagine for yourself, but the sacrifice you are making is deeply appreciated.” 

From behind her veil, Celica stared coldly. “I’ve not decided yet.” 

The once Witch Hunter caught his blunder. “Right. That is if you choose to go through it.”

The Baroness shifted her attention to the crowd before her, lightly tugging at the veil obscuring her view. Somewhat surprisingly, he seemed to notice her annoyance at the itchy fabric.

“Yes. I’m sorry about the veil; I know it is dumb. But it’s an Intacian tradition, and we must humour the old men. Your future husband must not see you until I present you to him.”

She tried not to be irritated by his comment. Regardless of the outright duplicity veils had in her culture beyond death - she had agreed to this. Did he not know? Veils were considered so duplicitous to her own people, that it was downright cheating! Only acceptable in the height of mourning. Yet, here she was, doing him the favour of disregarding her own people’s traditions for his. Repeating Isolde’s words in her mind, she tried to assure herself. ‘Of course, he couldn’t know, it’s not like he’s our king. Surely he only meant to comfort me rather than highlight my own frustration to everyone? To assure me as opposed to belittling both people's traditions?’ Her self-assurance was apparently lacking.

The topic of her husband and arranged marriage has only been discussed twice, and both times were brought to the table by Rhett. The man assures her that he has someone that could match her in every way, including status, but he’s also held his tongue from speaking any further. As if not to spook her. Celica would pardon him if he was one of her servants, but the withheld information did nothing to endear this new King Rhett to her. 

“What kind of man is he?”

“Well, uh… his name is Castin. Castin Hammer, and as I’m sure you’ve heard, he’s a dear friend of mine. Were it not for his support of him and his fighting men, we may have not succeeded in uniting our nations.”

“I see. So I take it he’s rather good?” 

“He’s a great warrior, in fact. Among the best in Intacia.” King Rhett boasted, pride dripping from every word for his friend - blatantly missing her own ‘praise’ and the opportunity to quip with her. Perhaps he was hoping to appease and nurture a sense of curiosity within the Baroness - something young children from Noble Household’s often do during playtime to win over their friends. 

She could imagine how an Imperial King might react, something closer to ‘other than being my First Commander? He’s decent.’ But Rhett was not just an Imperial King consort - but an Intacian King. She would have to adjust. Celica, not for the first time held back a sigh; she felt far too old to play this sort of childish game.

“Where is he?” 

King Rhett frowned. The Baroness’ succinct questions reflected a tempestuous mood, and he knows he must manage that well. “I… don’t know. He should’ve been here already.” He then beckons one of the younger workers.

“Messenger.”

“Yes, King Rhett?”

“Go. Find out what’s keeping Castin.”

The messenger bowed once - perfect in his politeness - before making himself scarce. King Rhett resumes their conversation. 

“Listen, before he arrives, I must tell you, Castin is, uh, how can I say… a guarded man. It may take time and patience to bring him out of his shell.” 

‘Finally’ she thought, ‘something intriguing about him’.

“So he’s a shy, great warrior?” 

King Rhett hesitantly shook his head. “No. I did not mean it in that way. He’s… definitely not shy, but - ” 

Suddenly, the large entrance door pushes open, and the messenger returns. “King Rhett, presenting First Army Commander, Castin Hammer.” 

Celica could see how her best friend’s husband - finally slipped into his kingly persona, though it would’ve made her etiquette teacher massage her forehead in its obviousness. Back ramrod straight, chin up and eyes, front; it was as though Castin was commanding him. He walked forward - at least his gait did not seem haltered.

As Rhett took the proverbial stage, conversations tapered off. 

“Commander Castin, thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, of course, King Rhett. Sorry, I’m late.” 

In the background, a woman boldly interjects. “Asshole!” Her friends giggle. Something begins to itch beneath the Baroness’ skin.

King Rhett cleared his throat - without meaning to, yet acknowledging them. That itch steadily spreads. 

“Castin, our new nation owes you a debt it cannot repay. As a friend, I would like to thank you for the sacrifices you’ve made to get us here.”

“Yeah, of course, don’t sweat it.” 

At this point, it clearly must be Intacian manners. 

“And now, I ask you to make another.” King Rhett paused to address the crowd, staring each of them in the eye. “I know many of you have reservations about our union with our former Imperial enemies - ” 

Immediately, the audience began to stir. A few people murmuring that ‘reservations’ are too mild of an understatement, yet still, King Rhett took it all in stride. “It is OK. Do not hide it. Get out in the open what we are all thinking. I know many of you secretly talk about it among yourself. You are angry over the centuries of war that come from the Empire's constant aggression. Angry over the suffering and devastation brought upon by the Ascendants. And you have every right to be.”

What a bold move. One that put his Imperial guest in great jeopardy should he lose said audience’s reins. She doubted very much that the strapped dagger on her thigh would hold more than one off.

“But know that staying angry will not change the past. We’ve won. But seeking revenge will only result in more suffering. It is time we end this cycle that’s been repeating for centuries now. Put away the grudges and start building a new future where war on this continent is a thing of the past.” His attention returned to Castin once more, who seemed more interested in what was behind her veil than his king’s speech. “Castin, I am asking you to contribute to that future.” 

Celica's shoulders are poised, tensed in a way that seems elegant to the people surrounding her. 

When King Rhett offers her an arm, she could have screamed at the inelegance. ‘He’s Isolde’s husband, not mine! It would not be against either custom to offer his arm as the father of his country to a guest, in fact, it would be rather flattering to hold the king’s arm. But given the  context and the lack of his queen, it was as if he was already giving me away as a war bride!’

Still, to refuse would be to refuse His Majesty. 

Tentatively, she held on as lightly and gently as she could as he escorted her to the centre of the hall, where Castin and his troops stood. The King, not his messenger, made the personal introduction. “Presenting the Imperial Baroness Anesidora and personal friend of the Queen.” He then leaned closer to her, whispering - “Now, take off the veil!” 

Expression perfectly schooled and hands steady as ever, the Baroness pulls back the white cover. Gasps erupted among the crowd and awed murmurs travelling across the hall. Even Castin seemed taken aback. It reminded her vaguely of her first débutante. A familiar feeling in a foreign land - but people were people.

The audience seemed enraptured, King Rhett continued. “Now, Castin - ”

“Nah, it’s OK, Rhett. I can take it from here.” Commander Hammer intervenes. The itch makes Celica restless now when the King side-steps so that the Intacian warrior may approach closer. 

“Baroness. You’re even more… dazzling up close.” He says with an easy swagger. A line that had been fed to the Baroness from those wanting to take advantage of her many times before. So not a good start. But his next sentence starts to wear her already dangerously thin patience. “How’s it going, sweetheart? I’m Castin. Castin Hammer” 

Already, she found her perception of the Commander souring. ‘The audacity of this man! Addressing me using anything but my title?’ 

“It’s a pleasure.” Celica blatantly lied through pursed lips though it seems it flew over his head, for Castin smiles roguishly. 

“Nah, the pleasure is all mine.” His eyes barely concealed the lust brewing, and if this was her manor, Celica would’ve hit him with the bottle that had allowed only inebriation could let slip such a tone. No - actually, Ezekiel would have done it for her.

But the game is still on, so Celica kept her rage to a simmer. “Commander - ”

“Oh, c’mon, you can leave off all that Commander stuff.”

“...Leave it?” Celica repeats, incredulousness creeping into her tone. 

“Yeah, it’s cool. Titles don’t mean anything here, anyway. You can just call me Castin.” The man assures her. Almost eager, in fact, which doesn’t sit well with the Baroness. Titles meant boundaries and boundaries meant room to run for the fucking exit. In an esteemed and elegant manner of course. 

 “I’d rather not, Commander… Castin. Though I will concede your surname.” Perhaps such a pun would be inexcusable at home. Though she doubted Castin had noticed her refusal of his surname already.

Rather than put off like she had hope, Castin chuckled instead. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.” 

“Castin, I believe you had an offer for the Baroness?” King Rhett interrupts.

That apparently snapped Castin back to reality. “Right. Your Grace… I would like to give you pretty much everything I have. My lands, my army, my money - all of it. To you and this new country you’re trying to build. All I want in return is that you agree to be my wife.”

‘What an arrogant form of confession.’ She thought to herself. ‘His lands? Household Anesidora owns a mountain with rich mines. His army? Eaton is an Air Ascendant and her one-man army. His money? She was willing to bet that she makes more monthly than Castin makes annually. And that’s just from her gems alone.’ She side-eyed King Rhett, wondering if the man ever informed his friend exactly who she is. She could excuse such arrogance if he had also been kept as naive as her.

She doubted it though.

Castin cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, Rhett, I brought the Baroness a gift. Can I give it to her?” 

Before Celica could even open her mouth, King Rhett spoke for her. “Of course! How thoughtful of you.” 

Fingers clenching tightly on her dress, the Baroness repeats Isolde’s plea for Rhett in her mind. The blatant disrespect from both men is cracking her patience, and the itch for her poisoned dagger is becoming overwhelming.

Oblivious to the Baroness’ pale knuckles, Castin signals his men. “Bring it here, boys.” One of the warriors marched forward to hand over a box to Castin, who in return, proceeded to present it to Celica. “Here you go, sweetheart. This is for you.” He says and waited expectantly. Pushing a receiver to unravel a present from them in public is a form of rudeness that would make the Imperial Nobles banish Commander Hammer from any future party invitations. 

But this was Intacia and she was a guest. Intacian culture meant she could open it later but with all eyes on her and expectant, she was not to be given that choice apparently. Celica began to untie the ribbons on the box.

“Hopefully, it’s the start of a long and exciting relationship.” He added with a strange grin. Like stating a joke that only he knew. 

Soon enough, though, the Baroness realised why. The audience gasped again, only this time, in shock and glee at her expense when Celica held up a skimpy lingerie. The glass is shattered, and the itch overwhelms her. Her heart is pounding painfully against her ribcage the longer she stares at the offending piece while King Rhett hissed out, “Castin! What is this!?” 

“What? It’s for our marriage bed.” Castin nonchalantly defended himself. Laughter from the crowds rings painfully in the Baroness’ ears.

“What have you done?” King Rhett presses lowly; indignation coloured his tone.

‘Was he stupid? Of course, Castin knew what he had done. Finally, the Intacian mob could witness Imperial humiliation in the flesh.’ All at her expense! She didn’t even care about the stupid war!

But Castin ignored him in favour of the Baroness - delighting in her indignity. How could she go home with this above her head? The Armistice would be over by midnight!

“So, Baroness, what do you think? You know this is genuine Steelgate silk? I’d just figure it might add a little something-something to the wedding night.” 

‘Whether a sadist or simply stupid - it would be a cruel fate if I married him.’

King Rhett immediately turned to the Baroness, hands about to grasp her but catches himself back at the last seconds. “Please, forgive him. I-I told you he is - ”

With a serene expression, Celica lowered her right lingerie-clenching hand and raised her left-  slapping Castin as hard as she could. His chin whips towards the audience as silence descended into the hall. 

“Oh, shit.” a distant voice sounded. Her hand stung triumphantly as Castin turned back to look at her. Smirk freshly wiped from his face.

King Rhett cursed as Castin blinked before asking “What? Did you just slap me?” 

“Oh, no.” The King whined, but it was too late.

Castin began to grin again - but his eyes narrowed at her. “I didn’t realise you Imperial women were so… prudish. You know how expensive that is?”

Sadistic more so than stupid it seems. A cruel fate indeed.

Celica wordlessly stuffed the lingerie back into the box that the now clearly uncomfortable soldier carried. Slamming the lid on top before yanking it away from the still reluctant soldier and throwing it towards Castin’s smug lackeys.

“Whoa, whoa! Take it easy, sweetheart. If you don’t like it, I could always get you something else.” 

“Well. That was utterly insulting.” Celica says, devoid of emotion, making a pointed effort to wipe the dust off her gloves.  

“Insulting? Rhett, please. Tell me, how was this insulting?” ‘So he only pretends to be stupid!’

King Rhett, however, started to panic. Trying again to appease her. “Baroness, please. I understand your frustration. But you are making a scene. The peace is fragile. We must keep up appearances.”

“I’ve been humiliated.” 

“Yes, I know. But, the people of both our nations are watching. Just let me handle this.” 

“No,” Celica softly declared. Her tone sent icy shivers down his spine. “I’ve had enough of your incompetence and disrespect.” 

The Baroness rolled her shoulders back and clasped her hands in front of her stomach. A plastic smile pulled onto her face. To the world, she appears as an image of the inherited imperial right - As though the Goddess herself had begun to pull her strings to a tune of power.

But King Rhett, at that moment, only saw a dark chasm splitting the Baroness into two. Her mask widened as from behind pearl-white teeth, inky darkness flooded out. They were tendrils, threatening to choke every ignorant man and woman nearby.

And what eventually crawled out is a monster unlike anything he has ever seen before. 

-

Rhett could remember the day he lost his childhood. 

When the Ascendants assaulted his village, sparing no one, he could no longer be considered a child. The same goes for any of his surviving playmates. Goddess, even now, Rhett could still feel the burning anger and hatred nestled in his heart when he was a Witch Hunter; he remembered the faces of the Ascendants who removed their armoured masks when the village was no more than a mountain of ashes.

With lungs full of black smoke and eyes stinging with tears as he huddled close with Castin and Lilia, Rhett will forever remember those Ascendants as the ugliest monsters he had ever seen. Logic dictated to the child that they were humans, just like him, but the absolute terror the Ascendants evoked petrified him enough that he thought nothing else would frighten him like that ever again.

Rhett was horribly wrong. 

The Baroness cast an inscrutable glance at Castin and repeated her previous remark, “You have publicly humiliated me as a woman and tarnished my reputation as the Baroness of the Anesidora Household with your… gift.” 

Then she focused on him. 

Something must’ve dawned on Castin - perhaps his self-preservation finally kicks in? Rhett could only hope - for he tried to defend himself again, properly this time, but the Imperial Lady refused to spare any more attention for him. 

Now confronted by his wife’s best friend underneath the glittering chandeliers, Rhett can clearly see the Baroness’ face transform. Her serene human face melted like hot tar, revealing a brand new horror that only a monster could provoke. Its lips curled back, exposing razor-sharp teeth with a guttural snarl. Its eyes, though still ruby red, now have a tint from the abyss with a sort of mindless feral wrapped in shadows. The worst is its gaze; it struck Rhett like a furious beast from Hell, terrifying him in place. Distantly, Rhett wondered if his heart had ceased to beat because he was certainly struggling to breathe. 

Unlike the Ascendants, who were monsters moulded by war, the abomination in front of him was nurtured. Hungry eyes tore apart even the tiniest flaw on Rhett’s face. 

He had been a fool to think the Baroness was a creature sheltered in peace.

“Your blatant disrespect of my title infuriates me, Your Majesty,” Celica Anesidora’s voice is controlled. Smooth as silk yet loud enough to be heard by everyone in the hall. “So I will approach the Queen with a simple question: Me or you?” 

“What do you mean…?” The young King questioned warily. His mouth tasted of ash.

“Tomorrow, the Queen must decide: her husband or best friend. If she chooses you, I will return to the Empire. I will withdraw my support, wealth, business networks and influence from Intacia. Burying my friendship with the Queen for choosing a man that repeatedly insulted her best friend, her fellow countrymen and even herself. My support of this peace rendered meaningless, and the embargos shall resume as well active assault. However, if she chooses me, I will bring her home. I will then personally fund the Imperial army using every last coin from the Anesidora fortune. My Knight will lead every available Ascendant I can employ against Intacia. When your lands are utterly destroyed and your people starving, I wonder how many of your ‘brothers and sisters’ will clamour to bring me your head for my mercy.”

The room was silent. A pin drop could have been heard had there been one. Everyone in the room held a collective breath. Castin’s face was paler than a phantom as his hand rested uneasily over his sword hilt, waiting for permission to draw and behead her. King Rhett swallowed thickly. The atmosphere stayed tense, waiting for the guillotine to fall. 

“Are… are you threatening me?” 

“No, Your Majesty. That wasn’t a threat. It’s a promise.” 

“After everything… I thought you wanted peace! I thought the four of us wanted an end to the war!”

“You think. You want. As if you’ve done something that warrants my endearment to either of those things.” 

She’s curious, Rhett realises in horror. She’s curious as to why he expected her to play nice, even when plans for the unification of their countries are on the table. It’s a sort of selfishness that’s devoid of empathy.

He now understands the warnings his Queen gave him in their bedroom: 

“OK, look, underneath the frills and sparkly stones, Celica is a simple woman with a simple desire. She just wants her family - which you can count on one hand, by the way - close by. While she treats her title as a 9 to 5 job, she takes pride in her hard-earned achievements. But you also got to understand something, Rhett. Living in a gilded cage broke her… I think. And the Empire took advantage of that.” 

“What does that entail exactly?”

“So you know the Imperial Nobles are nasty in their own way, right? Unfortunately, Celica isn’t an exception. She likes pulling strings from the shadows, using others to get what she wants. And when the blame game begins, she’ll have people pointing their fingers at each other. Don’t look at me like that, Rhett! The Baroness isn’t malicious in nature. That’s just, her? She won’t hurt you, but she will just give you enough rope to hang yourself with. Actually, that still sounds kinda bad.”

“‘Kinda?” 

“Hey, she’s on our side! I managed to convince her to give you a chance. So wow her as you did me, OK?” 

Perhaps he had been too distracted in the bedroom. Now in the present, Rhett perfectly comprehends that the Baroness has pushed them all into a corner. The decision that she’ll lay for the Queen is an illusion; no matter what his wife chooses, the Baroness is the victor. If any of his men harm her in retaliation or fear, the Empire will immediately resume attacking Intacia.

It’s insane how an arranged marriage - Hell, just an arranged engagement transformed into a Goddess damned ambush!

King Rhett bit his lower lip, struggling to put a lid on his growing anxiety while the Baroness silently stared at him. Waiting for his next move.

Like most Intacian warriors, Rhett was taught to fight until his last breath. To take death over defeat. Now though? This is bigger than him; the crown on his brows weighs the heaviest. Whatever he does now spells either the doom of his people or elevates them into a new era. 

The politicians began to murmur among themselves; the commoners were confused about how to react while the warriors watch Castin. Castin, now guilt-ridden for pushing his friend to the point of needing to beg an Imperial, steps forward to place Rhett behind him. Only to be pulled back.

It is the King of Intacia that stops him.

It is his friend he cannot bear to watch kneel before her in supplication. Though ranking had never mattered to him, honour did.

“I’ve wronged you terribly, Baroness Anesidora.” The accented baritone voice boomed off the walls despite his humble tone. Celica seemed unmoved by this. “My actions and words tonight were egregious to a woman of your stature. But please, I humbly plead that you reconsider your promise. For the sake of my wife. For the sake of my people. For the sake of my nation. What will it take to earn your forgiveness?” 

Seemed was the word, being on the floor, King Rhett couldn’t see how Celica’s human face snapped back into place. Dragging the monster back into its cage as his gesture once again made her uncomfortable; though for a different reason. Not out of offence, but rather because she found Intacian dramatics to be, well, dramatic.

“Acknowledgement. Accountability. Followed by a public apology from the offending parties,” The Baroness easily offered. As if she’s already planned for this, planned to have him humbled if not humiliated publicly for wronging her and at this point, Rhett doesn’t doubt it.

But since the terms were simple, he eagerly tilts his head up. Hope blooms in his heart like a budding flower during Spring. “Then may Castin and I deliver our - ”

“Unfortunately, I’ve grown weary from tonight’s affair,” King Rhett’s expression dimmed ever so slightly at her announcement. ‘Is the Baroness still playing her games?’

 “I’m open for an audience tomorrow. That should give you plenty of time to practice your deliverance…” Celica offered graciously.

Everyone could only watch as the Baroness gave King Rhett a curtsy before the crowd parts like the sea as she exited the hall. Taking with her the oppressive air yet leaving the Intacians uneasy. Some claim that Baroness Anesidora was bluffing; others didn’t dare to wait for the fallout. 

Cutting through the chattering partygoers, Castin helps Rhett up to his feet. His voice is uncharacteristically small when he speaks. “I… I shouldn’t have - I never - I didn’t mean…” The Intacian warrior exhales deeply and tries again. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this. It was my fault, Rhett. I’ll fix it with the Baroness; I promise.” 

The words rang in his ear. Chorusing the night, “It’s a promise.” 

“I was in the wrong as well, brother. I should’ve paid closer attention to the Baroness. This went beyond cultural differences; this was a political nightmare.” King Rhett sighed, rubbing a palm over his jaw. Another realisation hit him; the Baroness purposely chose to talk to the Queen tomorrow. Forcing Rhett to break the news of what happened tonight to his wife so he would stew in the pot a little longer. 

‘What a -.’ 

“So what’s our game plan?” His Commander asked seriously. 

“Acknowledge our mistakes. Give the Baroness an appropriate form of accountability. Apologise to her with both nations as witnesses.” King Rhett parroted. 

Castin whistled lowly. “A Water Ascendant as our Queen and an Imperial Baroness as my spouse. Rhett, I say this as your buddy, but you sure know how to pick your women.”  

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

ABERRATION BOYS BIRTHDAY SPECIAL!

A/N: Hello my nerds, today is my Birthday! So to celebrate my unfortunate birth, I'm doing a special scenario post for my Ab!Boys!

~~

What do the boys from Aberration get you for your birthday?! (GN!Reader!)

These are NOT cannon to the storline.

Warnings: VERY DARK CONTENT. Yandere Headcannons ahead. Mentions of skinning, non-con cum-eating and video recording, stalking, murder, mutilation, manipulation, etc. If you are uncomfortable with these types of things, DO NOT READ. Proceed with caution, as I do not feel bad if you choose to do so while being warned.

MINORS DNI

~~~

Tokoyami

You're seated on the bed, staring at your simple but beautiful ankle bracelet Tokoyami bought for you. Smiling, you fiddle with the gems, entranced by the sparkle that reflects off them.

"Starlight?"

Your head snaps up to see your boyfriend sticking his head through the door way. A love-sick smile grows on your face. "Fumi, you're back!"

He chuckles before slipping through the door way and sits down on the bed, hands behind his back. "Do you remember what today is?" Your face scrunches up in thought before shaking your head. He sighs warmly at the cute look on your face. "Today's your birthday, my starlight. And I got you something."

Tokoyami moves his hands from behing him and your eyes light up upon seeing the book he hands you. "Fumi, thank you! It's beautiful." Your hand traces over the cover, following the lines of the ornate designs. "It looks so familiar..." you mumble.

Tokoyami swallows the lump in his throat. "It's one of a kind, love. Would you like me to read it to you?" He tries to steer the conversation away from your feeling of familiarity, not wantinf you to realize it's one of your old books from before he took you.

You nod excitedly and climb into his lap. His arms circle around you and hold you tight, as his thumb grazes over your anklet, eyes boring into the gems that track your every movement.

Kirishima-

"Happy Birthday to my Pebble~ Happy Birthday to my Pebble~"

You glare at the redhead smiling and dancing in front of you as you tug at your restraints. A low huff leaves your lips. "Can you stop? I don't want you celebrating my birthday."

Kirishima stops dancing and gives you a puppy-dog stare. "But why? It's the day my beautiful wife was born! It should be a day to rejoice!"

"Kirishima, I'm not your wife! I'm nor your girlfriend! I'm not anything to you!" You sit up in the bed you were restrained to, only able to move so far forward. "You drugged me, kidnapped me and are currently holding me against my will."

Kirishima watches with a mixture of sadness and anger at your defiant attitude. He hates it when you struggle. He doesn't understand why you're so reluctant to be here! With him! Your husband! That's when he remembers your gift.

"Oh! This is a perfect time to give you your birthday present!"

He drops to his knees and crawls under the bed. You hear rummeging underneath you and your terror spikes. You knew what he kept under the bed, so this couldn't be good. As he comes back up, he's holding a pair of black leather cuffs.

"Surprise! I got you new cuffs!" He climbes onto the bed and straddles you. "These are so cool because instead of being just normal cuffs, they have these two little metal rivets that will shock you whenever I want!"

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens to scream. Kirishima is quick, however. He grabs your face with his hand, hardening it so your scream is muffled. His face geta closer to yours, that sickening grin never leaving.

"Baby, you don't like it? Do you want something else? Don't worry! I have another gift in mind. How about a fresh, bloodied heart that was ripped out of the chest of that mean boss of yours?"

Hawks

"You see this right here?" Your cowroker holds her hand out, showing you and your fellow employees her brand new diamond ring. "He finally proposed! It was about time. It took him awhile to get an ACTUAL ring worthy of me, though. But it's so expensive and beautiful, EEP!"

Keigo watches as you roll your eyes for the thousandth time. He could tell you were getting annoyed, and I mean, who wouldn't? Your coworker has always been a complete bitch to everyone, a lot directed at you.

"Oof, it just sucks that Y/N can't seem to find someone. That's probably the only way they'll be able to look a little less," she looks you up and down. "Er, homeless."

Keigo watches from his perch as you flip her off snd walk away. His hands clench tightly into fists, desperately wanting to knock a bitch out. That's when it hit him. It was your birthday today! And now he knew just what he wanted to gift you.

~~~

"Bye guys, and thank you!"

You wave to your friends after they drop you off at home. They had taken you out for dinner for your birthday and you bad fun. Definitely something you needed after the crappy morning you had.

As you walk up to your door, you notice a small package waiting for you outside. You smile, wondering of it was your long distance partner sending you a birthday gift. You carefully open the package, but once you see the contents, a scream is ripped out of your throat and you stumble away from the box.

Inside, what a severed finger with an absolutely beautiful diamond ring still on it. You failed to notice a small blood-covered note flitter to the floor.

'Happy Birthday, babybird. I hope you like it.'

Tamaki

Tamaki stares at you from behind a tree. He's been following you for a few hours now, just basking in all your wonderful glory. He stares at you with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, wishing he could actually get up the nerve to speak to you.

Finally you're off of work and headed home. He really hates seeing you talk to all those really pretty people. What if you were to get a partner?! That wasn't him?! He whimpers at the thought, hands clenching and unclenching.

"Y/N!"

The sound of your name snaps him out of his thoughts. He watches as your friend, whom he deemed not-a-threat yet, skip up to you.

"Are you doing anything for your birthday tomorrow?"

Tamaki's face turns pale. Your birthday! How could he forget the most important day of his life?! The day his precious bunny was born. You would be so disappointed in him. He reluctantly scrambles away from his hiding spot and runs home to get your gift.

~~~

"Oh?"

You stand in your doorway, a package sitting on your front steps. You tilt your head in curiosity and pick it up. Opening it up, you find the most adorable stuffed bunny you've ever seen. And a note.

"Y/N, Happy Birthday! I hope you like this bunny, I thought if you when I saw it. Love, your secret admirer."

You squeal slightly and hug the soft fluff, thinking this was from your flirty coworker. You bring it up to your room and sit it on your bed next to your other stuffies.

Tamaki stares at the screen on his phone, his face bright red at the hug you gave the stuffed bunny. It actually felt like you were hugging him! His happiness was through the roof. He knew you would love it!

But his attention now is back on you as he watches you slowly take your clothes off, one by one, to get ready for bed. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth, watching your bare back closely.

One day, he swears he won't have to watch through the camera.

Overhaul

Chronos watches you closely over the top of his book. You glare at him with tears in your eyes while huddled up in the furthest corner of your human sized cage. Hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you turn your gaze away with a sniffle.

"You know the boss wouldn't want you to cry on your birthday."

You roll your eyes and grip you legs tighter. "I doubt someone who keeps a human in a cage really cares about when they want to cry." You sigh. "Besides, he probably doesn't even give a shit if it's my birthday. I don't even give a shit, at this point."

"Of course I care."

The hair on your body stands up on end as the voice of your captor appears. Fear shoots through you upon seeing his masked face. In one hand he has a gift bag, the other stuffed in his pocket.

"Why wouldn't I care about my pet's birthday?"

He squats to unlock the cage and gestures you over with his finger. You swallow the lump in your throat and crawl out to him, knowing the consequences if you don't follow his rules. He sits down in his chair and pats the side of his thigh for you to kneel next to him.

He opens the gift bag and pulls out a dog collar. A part of you wanted to gag at the thought of being collard to this maniac. But another part of you couldn't help but think how absolutely gorgeous and expensive this collar looked.

"Oh, it's beautiful... Master." You wanted to slap yourself for calling him that, but you had no choice. The last thing you want is to be punished.

Kai hums with approval at your words before buckling the collar around your neck. He finsihes it off with a small padlock to the back, so no one can remove it except for him. A gloves finger grazes over your neck in admiration before looking over to Chronos.

"Prep them for a routone cleaning."

The calmed state you were in was once more replaced by terror. "No, please Master! I've been good, I promise! Please dont do this!" You scramble backwards, away from the two masked men. But Kai was quick and hooked his fingers under your collar, dragging yoi back to him.

"You know this is a must, pet. I need to make sure every inch of you is cleansed before I send any more time with you." He taps the side of your collar with his free hand. "And there is no use attempting to run away. This will forever track any movement you make from here on out."

Kai throws your body over to Chronos, who throws your struggling self over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Happy Birthday, my pet."

Shoto

"Darling~"

You stir in your bed, hearing your boyfriend's voice.

"Darling, wake up~"

Eyes open to see a blurry red and white haired man softly smiling down at you. You stretch your body out and yawn with a cute smile.

"Mmmm Sho, good morning~"

Shoto sighs softly, admiring your beautiful features. "Guess what day it is today. It's a very special day."

You tolt your head, trying to remember the exact date but you are the sure. It's been while since time actually mattered.

"It's your birthday, darling! Happy Birthday! I've got something fun planned for you~"

You sit up, your chains rattling against the bed frame. "You do? I'm so excited! What is it?"

Shoto holds up his black card. "We're going shopping. I'll be getting whatever your heart desires."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, does that mean I actually get to go out? Really?!"

Shoto's smile falters before returning to a softened look. Slight guilt flashes in his eyes. "Darling, you know I can't let you go outside. It's not safe. No, we're doing online shopping~" Shoto grabs his phone and crawls behind you, sitting you in his lap. "Here lets look through some sights and get you some cute stuff."

"I want my darling to have everything they want, so they don't want to leave~"

Dabi

"Mouse."

You stay huddled up in the corner of the room, knees to your chest, not even daring to look at him. Dabi frowns at your defiant behavior. He knows he took you without your permission, but that was so long ago. Shouldn't you have been broken in by now?

"Little Mouse."

You continue to rock back and fourth on the floor, chains clanking together. Dabi sighs, annoyance starting to eat at him. He walks over to you and grabs yoi by the throat, lifting you up.

"You are to respond when I'm speaking to you. Understand?" You let out a little squeak and quickly nod your head with widened eyes. He sits you down on the bed and gives you a lazy smile. "That's better. Now, I have something for you."

He opens the closet door to bring out a box. He places it in front of you. "Happy Birthday, my little mouse."

"Oh, yeah. That's today." You mumble quietly. Kmowing Dabi, this gift was going to have some sort of catch but curiosity got the better of you. But curiosity turned into regret immediately as you throw the lid and scream.

Inside the box were a pair of boots. But they weren't jusf any pair of boots, they were handmade. It was human skin staples together, making them look just like Dabi himself.

"What, does my little mouse not like them?" He smirks before climbing on the bed. He grabs your legs and pulls you down towards him with a manic look on his face.

"That's fine. How about I burn my name into you instead?"

Bakugo

"KATSUKI!"

You jolt up in bed, suddenly awakened by a nightmare. Looking next to you, you see your boyfriend's side of the bed empty. A whimper escapes your lips as yoi trt to calm your racing heart.

"Angel?!" The door to the bedroom slams open, Bakugo's quirk popping in his hands and waiting to attack whomever touched his precious angel. He looks around frantically but notices nothing except your heavy breathing and sweat covered body. "Are you alright? What happened?"

You motion towards him with a sniffle and grabby hands. "I had a dream that you locked me back up in the basement again for days, without you." He comes sits next to you on the bed and pushes the hair out of your sweat covered face. "It was dark and silent and terrifying. Please don't do that again! I would miss you! I've been good, I promise!"

Bakugo sighs and pulls you into a hug. "I know, Angel. You've been doing so well, I'm so proud of you." He plants a kiss on your head as you relax into his arms. "I have a surprise for you actually. Stay right here."

You nod your head, watching him leave the room for a moment, your ankle tugging on the chain that attached you to the bed. I mean, it's not like you would get very far. Bakugo comes back in with a plate of cake and a candle.

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful angel."

Your eyes light up as he sets the piece of cake in front of you. You blow out the candle and take a bite, savoring the taste. "Kats, this is so good! The cake is so fluffy and the frosting is creamy and sweet. Thank you!"

Bakugo watches you with a lovesick grin on his face. He goes to adjust the tightness in his pants as he watches you devour his specially made cake without hesitation.

Denki

"Yeah, it's been super weird. I've been finding these little pieces of jewelry on my bed almost every night the past week."

You continue cleaning the counter as you explain to your cowroker the weird things that have been happening to you. She gives you a strange look.

"Are you sure you haven't misplaced your jewelry on your bed and just forgot?"

You turn your head to give her a dumbfounded look. "Uh, yeah. I think I would remember putting jewelry I've nevee seen before on my bed at the same time every night."

"Well, I don't know! It's just so weird. I don't have any other rational explanation." She suddenly gasps. "What if you have a stalker?!"

"Shh, don't say things like that." You hiss at her but a part of you is wondering if that might be true.

After your shift ends, you wave goodbye and begin your journey home. Unbeknownst to you, an energetic blonde watches as you walk home, excited for you to see your final birthday gift.

Once you step through the door of your house, something feels off. Having a weird feeling, you immediately but slowly make your way to your bedroom and turn on the lights. That's when you see a small but long white box placed on your bed, this time with a note. You carefully open the box to reveal a gorgeous necklace with a small black and yellow lightning bolt charm. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you reluctantly open up the note, hoping to finally uncover some answers.

"Happy Birthday, my dear. You can call me Kaminari. And soon, you will be all mine."

Midoriya

*Click*

You turn around upon hearing the closing of a camera shutter but see nothing. Thinking it's all in your head, you shrug and continue to walk to your parents for your birthday dinner.

"Shit, that was too close." Midoriya mumbles under his breath as he hides in a set of bushes just beyond your vision. He scrolls through his camera roll, looking through every single shot to make sure he's got what he needs.

"These aee perfect! Oh they're going to love it!" He checks to make sure you're long gone before he scrambles out of his hiding spot and runs home to make your gift.

~~~

You unlock the door to your house and step inside with a sigh. As much as you love your birthday and seeing your family, sometimes they can be a little much. Now it's time for you to sit back and relax. You change into your pajamas and turn on your comfort movie with a drink in hand, when suddenly your doorbell rings.

"Who the hell is here at 10 at night?"

You carefully peek through the peep hole in your door, not seeing anyone. Slowly, you open the door and look down to see a neatly wrapped gift. You know you probably shouldn't take a strange gift off of your doorstep, but curiosity gets the better of you.

Taking it back to your livingroom, you open it to reveal a scrapbook. Anxiety raises through your body as you open the first page. Eyes widen in horror the further you flip through, non-consentual pictures taken of you and your family litter the pages. Not only are there ones from being out in public, but private, intimate moments that no one should have seen. But the moment you found a lock of your hair glued to one of the pages was the moment you called the police.

Shinso

Shinso squats infront of you as you stare at him with dead eyes.

"Kitten, I have a surprise for you today."

You shake your head, mumbling. "I don't want it."

Shinso caresses your cheek with his hand before giving it a quick slap. You try ti3 jerk your head away but he grips your cheeks, squishing them together. "Stop being a brat, you don't even know what it is yet. Now, stand up."

You don't even get a chance to stand up yourself as Shinso hauls you up by your face. "I'm taking you out for your birthday."

Your eyea widen in fear and you shake your head. "N-No, please. I'd rather stay here. L-Let's do something together here. Please."

Shinso clicks his tongue. "Come now, kitten. I'm letting you go outside. We don't do this very often, it's a special treat. Is it not?"

You shake your head. "Please, no, everytime you take me out you-"

You go silent, mind fogged over and once again, under his control. There are moments when he mind-controls you to where you don't remember anything the morning after and those moments are awful. But when he feels like being extra cruel? He finally takes you outside, taking you out to eat, to see a movie, to go shopping. You're under his control the entire time but you remember everything. You are right there, fully aware of whats happening around you but can't do anything to ask for help, to save yourself. And it's terrifying

A tear rolls down your cheek as you follow him out the front door, his hand in yours. He smirks, knowing you could never leave him.

"Happy Birthday, Kitten."

[animeyanderelover]

How about Mina/Kushi, Hina, Erza, Miruko, Fuu, Temari and Gaara with a pokemon trainer SO (the pokemon can be up to you). How would they treat their Pokémon and vice versa.

It’s been years since I’ve last played Pokémon…

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess

s/o is a Pokémon Trainer

Minato Namikaze & Kushina Uzumaki

⚡️🌶The concept of a Pokémon trainer who catches animal-like creatures instead of making a contract with them like shinobi usually do is a new concept for both, implying that their darling might be from abroad. It’s gotta be a disappointment for them to discover that they won’t find foreign new Pokémon like they might have hoped to do yet Kushina and Minato try to make their stay in here as pleasant and interesting as possible, they surely won’t let their love leave just like this. It’s doubtlessly very clear that their darling might not have any experience at all how to completely fight for themself since in their country Pokémon are used to do this job, though mostly more out of fun reasons. So Minato has probably insisted to teach his darling the standards of fighting.

⚡️🌶Your Fennekin probably ends up being their new pet of some sorts since you as good as never put them back into their ball, declaring that they’re your best friend and kept you company ever since you got them. Knowing how precious this fox is to you, both Minato and Kushina obviously want to be on good terms with it as well. Which turns out to not be entirely easy since the little one is a arrogant little being, sensing that those two people are not completely pure and for that proving to constantly cause troubles for both of them, interfering when those two attempt to show affection to you and ruining things in the house.

⚡️🌶The couple…tries to put all the time a forced smile on their face to hide their growing annoyance, by now having realized that the fox doesn’t like them near you at all. Kushina is the one who at one point gains it’s approval since she turns out to be the bigger animal lover and Fennexis and her are both temperamental so somehow they get along, leaving Minato struggling alone since he’s at this rate the only one who the fox growls at to stay away when it snuggle itself into Kushina’s and your lap whilst you two are together. But it’s not like he can kick the fox out since for some him unknown reason Kushina and the darling love the little one very much when in reality the Pokémon is such a smug and mischievous little thing. It’ll probably will never fully like him, no matter how hard Minato might try.

Temari

🌪Much more stricter when it comes to training her darling what they might have missed in regards of fighting skills due to their foreign roots. She doesn’t express her interest and curiosity in regards of the new system as strong as Minato and Kushina do, but she definitely wants to listen to the stories of her darling and what things were like in their old hometown and continent. Especially the concept of trapping their so called Pokémon in a ball and throw them out of it whenever they’re needed is quite fascinating, not to mention that back in your country people fought with them instead of using any jutsus.

🌪Doesn’t know exactly how to feel at the beginning about your Lucario that has gone through everything with you since she has a hard time estimating it. The Pokémon is far more of a mysterious case to her, very quiet and not interacting much with others. Hearing from you that it’s able to sense feelings and the personality of someone and only trust those that have a good heart made her realize that you must be in that case indeed a very good person when a Lucario has such a close bond to you. At the same time it has her wondering whether the Lucario appears to be so cautious around her because she is obsessed with you.

🌪There is no doubt that this is one of the reasons your Lucario is so incredibly iffy around her, the feeling of uncertainty how to feel about it’s friends lover is mutual. On the one hand Temari has a strong sense of duty and responsibility, she is respectful and would never hurt someone as long as she has no reason to do so. She is strong and ready to protect those she cares about with everything she has yet her darker side isn’t something Lucario can overlook since it includes you. Both of them…act somewhat careful around each other, on the one hand not having complete faith in each other on the other hand also knowing that they seem to share the important similarity that both of them love and care deeply for you. That is what strikes them to work together if you were to be in any danger and they make a terrifying team.

Naruto Uzumaki & Hinata Hyuga

🍜💘They’re both sweethearts so they will try to be as gentle as possible when explaining to their darling that searching for new Pokémon in here won’t do any good, looking on how they are no such creatures in the Land of Fire or any surrounding nation. Both feel bad about it since you were so ambitious after having spent months traveling to this new continent in the highest hopes of discovering new species in here. They’re both a bit worried that after breaking the news down, fearing you might leave, even though Naruto with his greater delusions calms Hinata by saying you love them so you wouldn’t do that. Training with them…is a bit slower since both are worried, especially Naruto, that you’ll hurt yourself.

🍜💘Yet when they’re introduced to your best friend and spoken Greninja, both are shocked to see just how much that frog-like creature reminds them of an actual shinobi. Reflexes, speed and agility is something that the Pokémon possesses better than some actual shinobi and Naruto might feel a tad bit jealous. Despite everything even as a Hokage Naruto is still a very competitive person, specifically since he is a attention-seeker for his s/o who dedicates so much time training with Greninja and getting even stronger. Hinata is more intimidated at first, but she attempts to get closer to your frog since your friend is her friend and she has come to notice that it’s limitlessly loyal to you and would do everything to protect you. Naruto acknowledges this as well, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

🍜💘Your friend here has to notice the red flags most likely as well, though it comes to be more careful around Naruto than around Hinata since it believes Naruto to be the intense one. With Hinata it kind of clicks faster, being more of a gentleman/gentlewoman around her as she is still a fine and young lady. The frog constantly offers to help her with the household chores and with time Hinata fully accepts the frog as a part of the family. The relationship between Greninja and Naruto is far more of an interesting one to say the least. The Hokage seems to constantly want to challenge the Pokémon, envying it for the praise it gets from you and Hinata for being such a well-behaved and skilled being. He kind of bickers with it as well, though he is the only one who appears to be petty whilst your friend always keeps calm and a stoic face, agitating Naruto only more and making him feel like he’s being mocked. In reality the ninja-like frog holds respect for Naruto, having seen how much of a hard-working and ambitious person he is.

Gaara

🐼As the Kazekage he welcomes this weird new visitor at the beginning with a bit more caution since he was informed about the peculiar stuff they were talking about, not to mention the exotic animal they were carrying around. Once he was being informed about your reason to come here and where you came from to begin with, he calmed down though he had to explain to you as well that you wouldn’t find what you were searching for in here. And looking on how disappointed you were afterwards, he made you the offer to stay a bit longer so the whole travel at least wouldn’t be for nothing. His s/o is simply just so refreshing with their personality and their many new stories, Gaara finds himself becoming smitten very quickly.

🐼The boy is unsure how to act around Espeon since very similar to Temari, he has troubles figuring it’s personality out. The animal has such a mature and knowing aura around it that Gaara can’t help but feel like it would be insulting to treat it like a completely ordinary pet. This creature he has intelligence, lots of it and the skills and abilities it possesses aren’t a joke either. What terrifies him most would most likely be the fact that it’s loyalty for it’s trainer has driven this Pokémon to learn the ability to presage in order to keep them safe from misfortune.

🐼Yet Espeon never seems to view him as bad luck for it’s trainer, for Gaara relief and Schock for the same time. He’s more on a aware side as well so he always had his doubts whether his feelings are a threat for you or not so he might just allow himself to calm down after this. It’s not like Espeon has complete faith in him, it just doesn’t see him as any potential danger in the moment so that is why it is relatively relaxed around the Kazekage. The guy loves you to death, that much is clear for Espeon and since you love him dearly as well, it will tolerate and settle with the new life for as long until it predicts anything bad. Actually goes out it’s way to bond with Gaara before he does so anyone who were to come to visit his office would most likely be greeted by the sight of a purple-colored animal lying somewhere around.

Fuu

🐛She certainly gets excited over pretty much every new visitor in her small and more isolated person, especially when she spots her darling with the foreign insect that constantly flies around them. It only boosts her curiosity and she will be definitely one of the first people to quickly approach her darling and offer them to take her to the village. Even if Shibuki were to disagree, she’d definitely beg him to allow you to stay in here for at least a while, it isn’t everyday she gets to meet new people after all. Additionally Fuu is a Yandere who will take a quick liking to her darling. You can bet that she’d probably want to travel back to your country to see those Pokémon for herself, but at the very latest that is something Shibuki won’t allow.

🐛Having only your stories, books and drawings about the creatures living in your country, your Vivillon is the only real example she has for a living Pokémon. And hearing from how close you and the butterfly are, Fuu only strives to have a similar good relationship with your Pokémon. She’s in general a person who wants to befriend everyone she sees, this butterfly here is surely no exception at all. Constantly ends up talking to Vivillon, mainly about you and how much she loves you and it’s no rare sight that she is seen chasing playfully after the butterfly whenever you two are around and it accompanied you two.

🐛Vivillon is maybe someone to get quickly attached to Fuu as well since she is one of the purest sweeties someone can really only find. Both will end up being good friends in little to no time and even if Vivillon should feel differently, Fuu will probably still nominate it for her best friend. Her obsession and dangerous tendencies are extremely low and almost never there to show themselves and that will put the Pokémon into so much ease up to the point where it might not even realize. So it has little to no problem letting Fuu be it’s trainer’s girlfriend, flapping always right over your heads and sometimes resting on them as well. Fuu was extremely happy the very first time she had the butterfly sitting on her head, taking it as a sign that the two of them were friends.

Miruko

🐇It was really just pure coincidence that she happened to save her darling on that one day where they arrived in Japan and got right away involved into a small villain attack. It was thanks to Miruko that they were quickly captured yet she arrived late enough to be met by the surprising sight of a small bunny about to pummel the villain before she sent them flying with a kick of hers. Might just be the first time for you seeing a hero in real life and the fact that her features reminded you of your own Pokémon was a lucky bonus as well so you probably got quickly curious about her. Miruko was interested as well since she couldn’t help the amusement upon seeing a literal rabbit about to beat a small villain. And you were the owner, weren’t you?

🐇Thinks that Bunnelby is the best Pokémon out there and she stays firmly with that belief of hers. It might really just be that she has a Bunny Quirk herself and loved the bunny Pokémon so much for that, though it’s partially also because this is your friend. It’s going to be her new pet without a doubt as soon as you two move in together and she’s a proud owner. Miruko actually played with the thought of making the small rabbit her new partner in hero work before her darling hastily stopped her, not exactly feeling comfortable with the thought of letting their small friend join, though Bunnelby is a formidable opponent. Miruko accepts that, she likes the fluffy fellow of yours very much as well and in the end it is still your rabbit. The image probably never leaves her head fully though.

🐇The connection between those due to the similar features and abilities might just be the same for Bunnelby as well. It’s kind of frightened at the beginning since Miruko’s confidence can be a bit overwhelming from time to time, but it will see her as a fellow comrade after a bit of time. When looking at her, it is probably reminded of his own race and that is what increases his trust faster, much more since you as it’s trainer seem to like this person as well. The rabbit hero ends up designing a completely new garden and room for the Pokémon to feel comfortable and dig with it’s ears tunnels to rest in when it’s tired.

Erza Scarlet

🛡She has met many people in her life and despite her intimidating first impression, Erza has a heart made out of gold. So when she spotted her darling at first, seemingly searching very confused for something, she offered her help in finding what they were looking for. Like this she got to know that they were from abroad, had decided to start a living here and were very excited about this new life. Growing closer with her darling and falling in love with them, she made them at one point the offer to join Fairy Tail and practicing magic.

🛡She might just have confused a Pokémon for a Celestial Spirit when she first saw you defending yourself with yours only to find out later that it wasn’t completely the same and that in your hometown many had at least one of such creatures which were friends and comrades for lifetime. Falls almost instantly in love with Sylveon after, it’s just such a cute and precious friend to have. Everyone in the Guild probably had the same reaction, everyone loves Sylveon so everyone kind of wishes to be allowed to spend time with it. It’s gentle, pretty and just such a sweet thing and since Erza is your girlfriend and you let her watch over your friend every once in a while, Erza takes this job of hers extremely serious.

🛡The friendship is mutual between the Pokémon and Erza since it quickly sees that Erza is a really friendly and kind person and for that spends often time together with the Mage. Often wraps it’s ribbon-shaped feelers around Ezra’s arm to pull her somewhere, mostly just wanting to take a short walk with her and when the girls went into her room, they often spotted her lying on the bed and Sylveon right on her back, watching whatever she is doing at the moment. Literally bought a whole set of things for the Pokémon and you simply because Erza adores both of you so much.

[dreamerstreamer]

Slip Up

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: One literal slip up leads to another and, well—it isn’t pretty.

Warning: includes depictions of anxiety as a result of exposure

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted something about a secret relationship! i hope you enjoy! on a more serious note though, don’t harass your creators and the people they care about. seriously, don’t.

With one last click, Clay let out a sigh, grabbing his headphones and setting them down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the still clip on his monitor with a hint of a frown tugging at his lips.

After two long hours, he was officially tired of listening to George’s screams ringing through his ears. Sure, they were funny in the heat of the moment when he was recording, but having to listen to the same screams on loop while editing?

He shivered.

No thanks. He needed a break.

Grabbing his phone, he pushed open the door to his studio and headed for the stairs. I wonder where [Y/N] is, he thought to himself as he climbed the basement stairs two at a time. It’s been a while since I last caught a glimpse of her.

Surfacing on the first floor, he stuck his head into the living room, glancing around for a brief moment only to deduce that you weren’t there. With a huff, he spun on his heel. If she’s not there, he thought, his strides confident and full of purpose, then she’s definitely in—

He stepped into the kitchen, his gaze landing on your figure half-tucked behind the open fridge door almost instantaneously. He smiled. Bingo.

Slowly, he crept forward, slipping around the kitchen island to silently walk up to you. Before you even noticed he was there, he leaned down next to your ear and whispered.

“Boo.”

Letting out a sharp yell, you whirled, your wide eyes practically drowning in the amusement filling Clay’s emerald gaze as he let out a long wheezing laugh. “Clay!” you gasped, holding a hand over your heart. “You scared me, oh my god.”

His wheezing only grew louder in volume as he slapped his knee, still cackling at your distraught expression. Puffing your cheeks in a pout, you turned your back to him, staring back into the fridge. “Meanie.”

Struggling to regain his breath, Clay leaned in to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug from behind. You could feel his chest shaking against your back with laughter, beginning to slowly die down with each passing second. A moment later, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry,” he hummed. “I just thought it’d be funny to make you jump.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “I was right. It was.”

“Not for me,” you grumbled, and he let out the tiniest of wheezes next to your ear. 

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, kissing your neck. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you all morning.”

You relaxed into his warm touch, melting into the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. Sending him a tired smile, you closed the fridge door and focused your attention onto him. “I’m alright, but I’m feeling kind of tired,” you admitted. “You get kind of sick of working on an assignment after the third, you know?”

He snuggled closer to you, smiling into your neck. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know, but I understand your point.”

You rolled your eyes at him, leaning back into his figure. “Right, I forgot that you didn’t go to college, Mr. Streamer.”

Clay laughed at your words. “You’re just that much smarter than me, then.” He poked at your cheek affectionately. as he cooed, “Look at you, my super smart college student girlfriend.”

You turned in his arms to face him, frowning at him. “Clay, you say that like you aren’t considered to be one of the best, if not the best Minecraft player in the world. Give yourself some more credit.”

He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his gaze fond as he held you a little closer. “Okay, but only because you told me to.”

You snorted, sinking deeper into his arms. “If your followers could see you now, I’m sure they’d be spamming ‘simp’ in chat.”

He chuckled. “They already do that whenever I hang out with George—I can’t even imagine to what extent it would increase if they knew about you.”

You offered him a smile, but it felt forced. The question had been swirling in the back of your mind for a little while now, and it was just sitting on the tip of your tongue, now. You had to ask now, or it would devour you alive.

“Hey, um, Clay,” you said, your tone shifting as you fidgeted slightly in his embrace. “Do you—do you think we’ll ever tell people and your fans about, well—” You gestured to the space between the two of you. “—about us?”

He paused for a moment, then let out a soft breath. “I want to,” he said. “Oh man, you don’t know just how badly I want to share you with the whole world and show them you’re mine.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, your lips instinctively curling up at his words.

“But I don’t think they’re ready for that just yet,” he added in a wistful tone. He pulled back, sending you a crooked smile. “How about we cross that bridge when we get there? I know that when we do get around to it, they’re gonna love you as much as I do, I promise.”

You bobbed your head, feeling the anxiety in your gut disintegrate. “Okay. Thanks, Clay.”

He reached up to ruffle your hair, cooing at the small whine you let out. “Anything for you.”

Knocking his hand off your head, you grinned at him. “On another note, what have you been up to? Instead of sleeping in late, of course, you lucky butt.”

He swayed back and forth, bringing you along with him. “I spent a lot of time editing some videos that are still in the works. I’m gonna be streaming for a few hours in a bit, though. If you need anything, you know where you can find me.” He grabbed your hand in his, fiddling with your fingers with a slight squeeze. “Are you still gonna be working on your assignment later, or will I be allowed to bother you?”

Your mouth twitched at his pouty tone, and you squeezed his hand back. “I actually might go out to the grocery store. Patches’s cat food is on sale, so I might stock up on that, and I kind of wanted some snacks for studying. Was there anything you wanted while I was gone?”

He hummed, thinking for a moment. “Not really, to be honest.” Slipping his hand into yours, he began leading you to the front of the house. “Here, let me see you off.”

You felt your heart swell with love as he handed you your bag from where it hung on the coat rack while you laced up your shoes. Clay was always so attentive to you and your needs, never failing to make sure you had everything you needed at the drop of a hat. You were really too lucky to have him.

“Do you have your mask?” he asked when you stood up.

With a nod, you fished it out from your pocket, waving it in your hands. “Mhm.”

He smiled. “Awesome.” Opening his arms, he pulled you in for one last hug, inhaling the scent of your flowery shampoo before swinging the door open and watching you step outside, car keys in hand.

“I’ll be back soon!” you cried, waving to him from the driveway.

He waved back, leaning against the doorframe. “See you!” he called back. “Take care out there.”

“I will!”

His viridian gaze trailed after you and your car as you sped off down the road, knowing all too well exactly which radio station you had inevitably turned on. Well, no matter. He supposed it was time to stream, now. Locking the door behind him, Clay strode down to the basement, sliding into his desk chair with his hand on his mouse. Slipping his headphones over his head, he rolled his shoulders and opened up Twitch. 

Taking one last deep breath, he grinned and pressed the ‘start streaming’ button. 

“Hey, guys!”

You grunted as you pushed the front door open, sliding your shoes off as you heaved the last sack of cat food onto the ground with a loud thud. 

And that’s all three. Finally.

Pushing the door closed using your foot, you placed your hands on your hood in determination.

Now, to get them downstairs.

You grimaced, glaring down at the offending bags. This was going to sooo much fun.

Some things never ceased to amaze you. Like how smart Clay was, even as dorky as he could be. Like how fast he blown up. Like how much you loved him.

And like how much cat food Patches managed to eat without getting fat.

Seriously, you thought to yourself with a grumble, how does she still look the same even though she goes through a whole bag of cat food in like... two weeks? It’s just not fair.

“I wish I had your metabolism,” you muttered, shooting a glare at the feline in question.  “You suck.”

Patches was perched on the stair railings a few feet away from you, grooming her paws. The moment you spoke her name, she lifted her head to look at you, her ears flicking. You stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out a soft meow, jumping down to rub against your leg.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” you murmured to yourself, your heart swelling in your chest at the feeling of her nuzzling her small head against your calf. “I could never hate you. You’re too cute.”

You turned your attention back to the three sacks of cat food you now had in your possession. Patches’s domain mostly consisted of the basement, where you kept her toys and costumes. Consequently, that’s where the cat food was also stored, albeit out of sight so that Patches wouldn’t get any ideas. Like her owner, she had a penchant for mischief, but you loved them both anyways.

The main problem here was getting the cat food down the stairs. 

I’m a strong independent woman, you thought to yourself with a small smile. Also, Clay is streaming, so I can’t ask him for help even if I wanted to. Bending over, you hoisted the first sack into your arms. That’s okay, though. A few stairs can’t stop me.

Taking a deep breath, you trudged toward the basement, carefully taking the stairs one step at a time down. The last thing you wanted was to trip while carrying the cat food of all things.

Unfortunately, it seemed that you jinxed yourself.

Everything went fine for the first two bags, each sack having safely made their way onto their proper spot on their designated cabinet shelf. Each time you tread down the stairs, you would take a quick peek over at Clay’s recording studio, smiling to see him amicably chatting with his viewers while completing another speedrun. With a smile on your face, you climbed the stairs once more to come face to face with your final obstacle.

You grinned despite your arms aching from having done so much heavy lifting. Last bag. Let’s go.

Rolling up your sleeves, you began the same process you had been running with for the past two trips: pick up the bag and head down the stairs, making sure to step carefully. 

What you hadn’t accounted for, though, was Patches’s presence.

You were just about halfway down the stairs when Patches darted in front of you. With a soft yelp, you stepped back to avoid her, letting her bounce down the stairs ahead of you. A brief breath of relief escaped your lips, but it was short lived. 

Just then, your sock’s grip on the floor gave out, and you felt gravity wrap a hand around your ankle.

Oh, crap.

A shout tore its way out of your throat as as you tumbled forward, landing on the ground with a resounding crash. Beside you, the bag of cat food smacked into the wall and landed with a loud crunch. 

That can’t be good, you vaguely thought, your mind fogged up by a cloud of pain.

Just a few rooms over, Clay froze mid-stream, his mouse coming to a halt as his entire body went stiff. Without even thinking to mute himself, he tore his headphones off his head, your name flying from his lips in a flurry of worry as he rushed out the room.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], are you okay?”

On the ground, you winced, pain shooting up your side as you pulled yourself forward. In an instant, Clay was on the ground by your side—one hand on the small of your back helping you sit up, the other brushing your hair away from your face.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, panic seeping into his face as his eyes scanned every inch of your face for harm, “are you good?” You nodded, but it did nothing to ease the worry in his expression. “Tell—tell me.” He held three fingers in front of your face. “How many fi—”

“Three,” you replied immediately. You offered a pained smile, stifling another wince as you did so. 

He leaned in closer to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “How badly are you hurt?”

You shifted your spine, trying to gauge the pain. The ache was dull at most, minimal at best. “Only a little.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You let out a small sigh, sending him a reassuring smile. You appreciated his protectiveness, you really did, but sometimes he really did go the extra mile. “Clay,” you said softly, “I’m okay, really. I promise I’m okay. I just tripped and fell.” Then you glanced behind him, letting out a deeper sigh. “The cat food, on the other hand? Not so much.”

The bag must have ripped open when it fell, its own weight having collapsed on itself and tearing a hole right through the bottom. The individual pellets of cat food where strewn all across the floor, littering the ground like pebbles. And of course, Patches was already starting to nibble away. Pesky girl.

Clay stood up, reaching a hand out toward you. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

You took his hand, shaking your head as he pulled you to your feet. “No, no. You should get back to your stream.” Your brows knit together. “I interrupted it, didn’t it? Your followers will be waiting for you. You should go back.”

He shook his head, his expression resolute. “Contrary to popular belief, [Y/N],” he said, “you’re more important to me than just one stream. I’ll probably just end it when I’m done here, anyway.” He squeezed your hand, his gaze kind. “Let me help you. Please.”

With your heart fluttering in your chest, you squeezed it back. 

“Okay.”

Clay grabbed the two of you a dustpan as you began to clean up the mess of cat food you had made on the floor. You whined about how you just wasted a sale by tripping down the stairs while he poked fun at your frustration, passing you Patches with the request of keeping her away from the food as he swept. In practically no time, you had nearly forgotten what had transpired at all, just happy to spend some time with your wonderful boyfriend next to you.

If only you knew just how much your little fall was going to blow up in your face.

You ran your tongue over your chapped lips, your gaze focused on your laptop screen as your mouse finally hit the submit button. Letting out a sigh, you finally let the stress seep out of your body as a small smile overtook your features.

Finally handed it in. Now, you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

With a groan, you stretched your arms out above you, cracking your back. You’d been working away for a couple of hours now, but at long last, you were free for the weekend. Humming to yourself, you picked up your phone. You had set it to ‘do not disturb’ a while back, since it hadn’t stopped vibrating at one point. You hadn’t bothered to check why at the time, but you supposed you could spare some time for yourself before dinner.

Swiping your phone open, your thumb instinctively tapped on Twitter, a blue glow enveloping your screen before fading to dark. You hummed as you opened up the trending page, curiosity pawing at your backside. You had your bets on some trend going viral, but knowing the internet, it was probably some weird, random crap.

There were a handful of political memes topping the charts, as well as a #TGIF. You stifled a laugh as you scrolled a bit lower. Twitter sure was a weird place.

That was when a tag caught your eye.

#DreamExplain

Your thumb stopped, hovering over the screen. What? Explain what, exactly?

Then there—just few lines below that.

#WhoIs[Y/N]?

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

That was your name. 

Trending. On Twitter.

Panic shot through your veins.

What the actual hell happened?

With a heavy feeling of disbelief sinking its claws into you, you tapped on your name, watching as hundreds of tweets shot past your eyes.

Who’s [Y/N] and how can I be her

dream explain?! oh mygood what was that !!!!

is [Y/N] Dream’s girlfriend or something

um ??? dream said the name [Y/N] on stream today then went afk for like 20 mins ??? then the stream just ended ???wtf ???

what’s @georgenotfound gonna do omggg nooo!!! his boyfriend!!!!!!

You felt sick to your stomach.

Oh god.

They knew who you were.

You wanted to throw up.

Stumbling to your feet, you made your way toward the kitchen where you knew you would find Clay, your phone clutched in a death grip between your fingers. 

“C-Clay?”

He turned from where he was leaning against the counter, a smile lighting up his face at the sound of your voice. “Hey!” The moment his eyes landed on your face, his smile vanished. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Have—” You swallowed, your palms beginning to sweat. “Have you checked Twitter recently?”

“Nope,” he hummed, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “What’s trending this time? Did some politician say something or—”

“I am,” you said ever so softly.

He froze, his phone going slack in his hand. “What?”

You glanced up from your feet. “I’m trending, Clay.”

A beat of silence. “What?!” he repeated, louder this time.

You felt an odd sense of weightlessness sinking onto your shoulders, and you felt yourself begin to ramble. “Crazy, right? Little old me, trending? Wild. Insane. Like, just wow.” 

With each new phrase that leapt from your lips, Clay’s brows furrowed further. You could see the wheels in his head turning at full speed. Then, they stopped, and realization set in. Then came the horror.

Oh, dear god.

“[Y/N],” he whispered, taking a step toward you, “oh my god.”

“You’re also trending, by the way,” you continued, barreling ahead as your hands began wildly gesturing. You swallowed down the panic rising up your throat at full throttle. “It’s a shame that I’m not higher than you, but I guess we can’t win them all.”

“[Y/N],” he said again, “this is serious.”

You nodded, your expression still blank. “Oh, I know. I’m—”

Something in you snapped.

You sucked in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I’m—”

And out came the waterworks.

You collapsed to the ground, the sobs escaping your throat in uneven bursts. Clay’s arms were around you before you knew it, his hand cradling your head for the second time that day.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” you choked out, your entire being dissolving into him. “Clay, they know who I am. They heard you.”

His grip tightened on you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. You sobbed harder, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

There was nowhere left to hide.

You hadn’t touched your phone in days. It hardly took more than a few minutes for your Twitter feed to have absolutely blown up with messages about you. Some positive, some negative, some neutral. While you appreciated the kind ones, you only had to read a handful of the not-so-kind ones for you to turn off your phone and hide it in a drawer. It wasn’t like you were going to even use it properly, what with its cracked screen.

The more time passed, the more acutely aware of the public’s knowledge of you became.

Your name was everywhere, supposed drawings of you were everywhere, you—you were everywhere.

You felt like you were suffocating in your own skin.

Clay knew that the slip up had been rough on you, and he didn’t blame you one bit. He had asked you what you needed, if you wanted him to take a few days off to spend more time with you. You had declined, sending him a tired smile.

“I... I think I just need some time to myself to think things over.”

He didn’t push you anymore than that, instead holding you close and pressing his lips to your cheek. For the next couple days, he vanished off of social media—no tweets, no streams, no videos. Nothing. While you busied yourself with class work, he focused on editing and planning ahead for the future. You both knew you were stalling, but right now, you just needed time.

A knock came from your door, a soft voice following just after.

“[Y/N]?”

You rolled over on the bed you shared, your eyes flickering up to see Clay standing in the doorway. The book you had brought in with you laid untouched on the nightstand next to you. You haven’t been able to properly bring yourself to enjoy something without thoughts of doubt seeping into your head.

What do they think of me? Do they like me? Will they approve of our relationship? 

You were terrified out of your mind.

Clay approached the bed when he saw you move, gently sitting down next to you. “Are you doing any better?” 

He patted the space on his leg, and you twisted your body to settle your head on his lap. “Sort of,” you murmured.

A moment passed as he took in your words. “Have you eaten?”

You nodded, your head just barely moving. “Yeah. Ate some leftover pasta.”

You fell quiet once more, simply listening to the sound of his breaths next to yours. Despite having been hearing next to nothing but silence for days now, you felt better knowing he was next to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your attention once more. You turned your head towards him, his hand stroking your hair. His emerald eyes bore into yours, focused and sad. “Tell me what’s on your mind. You seem so distant, right now.”

Your gaze trailed up to the ceiling as you opened your mouth, trying to connect the mess of thoughts in your head into coherent sentences. “It’s just all so overwhelming,” you admitted. “All they know about me is my name and that I fell down the stairs, but it already feels like it’s way too much. I didn’t even spend that much time scrolling online, and I already know that there are more than just a few people freaking out.”

You looked up at him, your sad gaze mirroring his. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to have everyone begging you for a face reveal.” 

The sadness in his eyes only seemed to grow deeper, and you felt something warm and watery wrap around your heart. “It’s my fault,” he whispered, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I should have muted myself. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I just moved without thinking and—”

You pulled yourself upwards, turning to sit face to face with him. “Clay, don’t say that.” You reached out to grab him arm, pulling it away from his face. His gaze was watery, and you wished you never had to see him with that expression. “It’s not your fault, not at all. When you heard me fall, you thought of me right away, and I appreciate that.” You held his big hand in between your smaller ones, interlocking your fingers. “That just shows you care for me. Please don’t beat yourself up over what happened.” You offered him a timid smile. “I know that I’m not taking this all too well either, but we’re in this together, right?”

His lips twitched to mirror yours, but his tone was still tinged with a low sadness. “I know, it’s just... I hate seeing you like this, like you can’t live your life normally anymore because of me.”

Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek. “Hey, it’s alright,” you crooned. “Remember, they only know my first name—not even my last name—and that I tripped. They don’t know what I look like.” Your lips twitched. “Heck, they don’t even know what I sound like. I think I’ll be able to live my life just fine. It’s just a little bit... much to begin with.” You shot him a goofy smile. “I might have to use Twitter less, but you know my screen time usage is way too high anyway.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, his eyes curving into two crescent moons. You felt your expression shift to mirror his almost naturally, but then the smile slowly crept off your face. “And, um, Clay,” you added, fidgeting slightly.

“Yeah?”

“These past two days, I gave what happened some more thought,” you began, “and I think...” You gulped. I think I want to introduce myself.”

His eyes widened, and suddenly his hands were on your face, his gaze focused intently on your face. “Are you positive?” he breathed. “You know you don’t have to do this, [Y/N].”

You nodded, feeling your resolve harden like a stone in your heart. “I know.” You offered him a bold smile. “It’s scary and kind of hard to think about, but I don’t want to leave everyone in the dark. I want to be by your side through thick and thin, no matter what.”

He paused, then pulled his hands away from your face. That sadness in his eyes had returned, and you felt your heart crack at the sight. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said quietly, almost remorsefully. “I know that being with me is already a huge commitment, and this is just taking another huge step...”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Clay,” you said, staring down at your knee. “I’ve been here with you from the beginning, and I’ll be here until the end. I’m here with you for the long haul, okay?” You raised your head, shooting him a wicked grin. “You won’t be getting rid of me too easily.”

Just like that, his smile was back. “Oh, alright. Only because I love you so much, though.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a weary grin. “Well, if there’s anything that I’m sure is going to happen,” he said, “it’s that my fans are definitely going to call me a ‘simp’ even more than they already do.”

You flashed him a teasing smile. “Are they wrong, though?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“No, they’re not.”

Swallowing, you stared long and hard at the microphone sitting in front of you.

You can do this.

“Are you ready?”

You sucked in a deep breath, feeling your hands shake in your lap.

“I—I think so.”

Clay pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his left arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer on his lap. With his right, he reached for the mouse. On his screen, he had his stream loaded up, with only a single mouse click standing between you and tens of thousands of viewers.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to look at him. With a small smile, he dipped his head down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling back. Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours lovingly.

“You know, this is only about half as stressful as when I met your family,” you joked.

He snorted, the rumbling of his chest running along your back and into your thumping heart. “And they loved you just as much as I do. Once the rest of the world meets you,” he murmured just for you to hear, “they’re going to love you just the same. I swear it.”

You let your eyelids flutter shut, breathing in his scent of fresh linen and citrus. “I hope so.”

He shot you a cheeky wink. “Oh, I know so.”

You rolled your eyes at him, turning around to look at his monitor once more. “Cheese ball.” You didn’t have to turn to know that he was still grinning. Snuggling further back into his chest, you said, “Let’s start the stream, yeah?”

With a nod, he clicked the ‘start streaming’ button. Almost instantaneously, thousands of people joined the stream. You briefly glanced at the chat and felt yourself stiffen when you caught a brief glimpse of your name. Almost immediately, Clay’s hand was on yours, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb while you relaxed once more.

Sending you one last loving glance, he leaned towards his mic and began to speak. “Hey, guys! I know it’s been a little while since I last did a stream, and I know you guys have some questions. But first, there’s someone I want you guys to meet.”

His gaze flickered to you, and he gestured toward the mic. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up your courage and leaned forward. 

“Hi there. My name is [Y/N].”

You felt his hand squeeze yours. 

With a smile and a deep breath, you squeezed back.

“And I’m Dream’s girlfriend.”

[kaepop-trash]

i love unintended consequences and all those little snippets you’ve written for it 🥺 i hope it’s not too much to ask but i would really like to see how johnny would pamper her when she’s pregnant/deal with the pregnancy side effects and him as a dad 🧸no pressure tho, stay safe and drink lots of water!

I loved this ask so much because I think most people feel nervous talking about the more unsavoury parts of pregnancy. I've heard people talk about how terrible some stuff was, including the decisions that should be made. I always write keeping in mind that this is a predominantly young audience and if I'm going to write for them, I might as well try to give a more honest, mature perspective on these things. Thanks for letting me explore this anon!

You didn't mention it so I kept this more fluffy and didn't add any smut.🙈

I'd gladly write more of this anytime.

WC: 2.5k

___

(Y/N) got up from the couch immediately when Sooyoung came and stood in front of her. It was Johnny who grabbed Sooyoung's arm before she could, helping her sit down comfortably. She gave him a grateful smile before turning to (Y/N).

"I can't believe I'm having twins." She sighed, grinning nonetheless.

"You definitely look like you're having twins." She looked down at the space between them, Sooyoung's belly bigger than what Joohyun's had been at eight months.

"I feel like it too." She mumbled, turning to Johnny, "Have you seen my husband?" She asked.

"He's speaking to your doctor on the phone, trying to get a room. Should I go get him?" Johnny asked dutifully, already getting out of his seat. Sooyoung smiled in a way that (Y/N) could distinguish, but Johnny just cluelessly waited.

"No, that's okay, Johnny. I'm sure he'll find his way back. Why are you so nervous?" She chuckled, grinning wider when Johnny fumbled.

"You're about to go into a room to give birth to two children simultaneously. I don't know why you aren't nervous." He gave her an uncomfortable smile, rubbing the back of his neck when both (Y/N) and Sooyoung laughed.

"I've been having contractions for 16 hours now. The only thing I want right now is for them to just come out." Sooyoung groaned as another one hit her, reaching for the paper cup in (Y/N)'s hand with the now practically melted ice chips.

"I'll go see where Mark went with the ice." Johnny eyed the cup. "(Y/N) will be here with you." He pointed at his own wife, giving her a serious nod before walking away.

Sooyoung turned to (Y/N) with the same smile as earlier. "He's very sweet." She grinned.

(Y/N) gasped as a joke, putting a hand over her mouth. "It took you seven years to realise that? Motherhood is changing you already." She laughed when Sooyoung shoved her shoulder with her own.

"I've always known it obviously. Do you think I would have let you marry just anyone?" Sooyoung scoffed. "What I mean is, he's being very sweet about this." She pointed at her belly. "Makes me wonder why you haven't thought about it yet. You've always wanted kids." Sooyoung said a little slowly, trying to avoid her gaze.

"We've talked about it obviously." (Y/N) looked away, "We've talked about it a lot." She blushed, thinking back to all the “talking” they did.

"But?" Sooyoung questioned. "Is he scared or something?" She furrowed her brows.

(Y/N) scoffed, "It's not him.” She laughed, pushing her hair back. There was a pause as (Y/N) tried to put into words a sentiment she had been holding close to her chest for a long time now. "I think I need to quit my job before I think about having a child. It's–" She winced, "I don't want somebody else to raise my child while I'm at a job I hate. You know how I will about that.” She paused again, biting down on her tongue.

"So quit." Sooyoung shrugged, rolling her eyes when (Y/N) looked up at her with a tired look.

"It's not that simple." She fidgeted with her hands.

"Yes it is." Sooyoung put a gentle palm on her best friend's hand, "You already know what you want. You're afraid to stop working because you've done it your entire life and because it’s all you’ve seen growing up. But it's fine, we all have to move on from old things to make way for new ones."

"It's not just that." She sighed

"(Y/N)." Sooyoung's voice was stern, "I think at this point it's a little unfair to Johnny if you still think that you need to be a contributor for him to respect you. I don't say anything because I know that after everything you struggled through, being successful was important to you. I know." Sooyoung paused, the tightening grip on (Y/N)'s arm signalling another contraction.

(Y/N) checked her watch, "That was 10 minutes, you're almost there." She encouraged her through the pain, rubbing her back soothingly. Once it passed, she sat back with a sigh.

"Just quit. Spend a year with your husband, think about kids then. If later you think different, you're qualified enough to find a job anywhere. Make mistakes, (Y/N). But don't just sit like a lame duck. Life's too short to waste it between decisions." She spoke as the pain slowly subsided.

"You're already gaining your mom wisdom." (Y/N) smiled endearingly at her, grateful for having the most loving people around her.

"It's all the reflection I do between the late night tossing I do because my stomach is too big." Sooyoung groaned as another contraction hit her already.

Mark finally stumbled from the corner with a paper cup in his hands, curse words spilling out of his mouth as he approached till a passing nurse clicked her tongue at him.

___

“I want one.” She sighed, putting her head on top of the finally cooing baby. For an hour now, Johnny and (Y/N) tried their best to get the twins to stop crying.

Sooyoung and Doyoung finally went to bed a while back and Mark lay sprawled on the couch, passed out after his turn to watch the new members of the family.

"Yeah?" Johnny whispered, lips tugging. He rocked the other one in his arm, positively gleaming. It made her heart flutter.

She sighed a little deeper, hugging the baby closer to her chest, “Yeah.” She nodded. “But–” She stopped to lick her lips, feeling like she was shielding herself with the child. Johnny’s smile fell and she shortened her hesitation. “I want to quit my job.” She took a deep breath to help find courage, “My mom was always working and I love her, I really do. She’s taught me how to survive by myself, how to prioritise my worth over everything.” She paused when the baby in her lap cooed, gazing down to look at her with a smile. “But when I look back, my fondest memories involve Sooyoung’s mom. She taught me how to cook, how to care, how to be compassionate.” She felt a lump building in her throat.

“Sooyoung’s mom was the person I called when I broke my arm, she was the one who advised me when I had my first heartbreak.” (Y/N) closed her eyes, “I love my mom, I want to give my children her values.” She took a shaking breath, terrified of her own words. “But I want to be the person my children come to when they want comfort.” She hugged Sooyoung's daughter, thinking about the loving life she would have.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, (Y/N).” Johnny said tenderly. “But I appreciate that you wanted to share that. I know you don’t talk about your parents. You carry so much by yourself.” He slid closer to her, resting the baby down on his lap. “I know you never make a decision without beating yourself about it constantly. If you think it’s what you have to do, I’m always going to have your back. That’s marriage.” Johnny looked down when the baby reached his arms out, laughing and picking him back up to rock again.

“Okay.” She nodded, “I’m going back home and quitting. We can talk about this properly then.” She felt overwhelmed.

Johnny bit down on his lip, looking at his friend’s son and then covering his ears, “We can start trying now though, right?” He wiggled his brows.

She sat back and laughed as quietly as she could, “I don’t think he can understand you.”

“Let’s not risk it with Doyoung and Sooyoung’s kids, yeah? Doyoung nags and Sooyoung scares me.” He sounded serious.

She laughed a little more, earning a babble of approval from her friend’s newborn daughter.

___

Johnny woke up at the sound of the bathroom door shutting. He slipped out of bed, noting the time on the bedside clock and sighing. He rubbed the sleep out of his house and ventured to the kitchen.

He knocked on the bathroom door softly, smiling when he heard a grunt.

"Just leave me alone." He heard her say softly. Johnny grinned, opening the door.

"But you're so sexy when you're heaving." He spoke as he entered, frowning when he saw her on the floor trying to keep her head up, dizzy again. Johnny put the glass of gingerale he came with down on the counter, wordlessly coming to sit behind her. He pulled her between his legs, rubbing soothing circles on her back. She rested her head back on his chest and Johnny tried to pat off the sweat on her forehead.

She gave him a grateful smile, one he mirrored despite her eyes being closed.

"I'm so tired of this." She sighed, "Does that make me a bad human being?" She whispered reluctantly.

Johnny clicked his tongue, "It makes you human." He pushed more of her hair back, just in time for her face to contort as he leaned over the toilet again.

"Five more months, baby." Johnny tried to lighten the mood, chuckling when she sat back and elbowed his side.

"Don't make me hit you." She warned, earning a quick okay from him.

They sat there for a while, when she looked like she wasn't going to puke again he poked her cheek.

"You want to take a shower? It always makes you feel better." He offered. She gave him an exhausted nod.

"I'll do it, you go back to bed. You have work tomorrow." She started moving away from him but he stopped her, turning her gently to face him.

"We're in this together, (Y/N)." He reminded her, hand going to her slowly emerging belly.

"It's just a shower." Despite her words, her eyes were drenched with gratitude.

"It's just work." He countered, slowly helping her get off the floor. She tugged on his arm, making him look down.

"You're perfect, do you know that?" She told him with glistening eyes.

"A few hours ago you were blaming me for knocking you up." He tapped his chin.

"I'm more changeable than usual lately." She shrugged.

___

Johnny grabbed (Y/N)’s arm to help her sit down. It was one of the less comfortable days of her second trimester and the long car ride it took to get to the vacation home wasn't helping.

"Wow," Yuta laughed, sitting back on the couch. "Look at how big you've gotten. There's a whole baby cooking inside you." He sounded equal parts amazed and amused.

"Shut up." She frowned, "If you choose now out of all possible moments to talk about the magic of childbirth I will make you rub my swollen feet." She threatened him, making Yuta lift his arms in surrender.

As she said that, she turned over to put her feet in her husband's lap. Johnny didn't need to look down to start rubbing them.

"What did he do?" Yuta laughed, pointed at Johnny.

"Get me pregnant, for starters." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And it's already huge because of his giant genes too." She tried to re-adjust herself at the new angle. Johnny noticed her fumbling, reaching for a pillow and putting it behind her back.

"You love me." Johnny kissed the air between them. "She loves me." He turned to Yuta,earning a scoff from both of them.

The doorbell rang and Mark spoke from the kitchen saying he'd get it.

"Oh my god, (Y/N)" Jungwoo said when he walked into the room with Yeri in tow. "You've become huge!" He gasped, pouting when Yeri smacked his arm.

(Y/N) turned to Johnny, an annoyed pout already dancing on her lips. "I'm starting to believe that this weekend getaway was a bad idea." Johnny laughed, reaching one hand over to squeeze her hand.

"Haechan isn't even here yet." Johnny reminded her, eyes turning up with delight when she groaned.

"If one more person talks about how big I am, I'll sit on them." She warned.

Johnny grinned and almost immediately she regretted her words.

"Come here, big girl." He extended his arms and beckoned her to him. She threw a pillow with an annoyed whine.

___

(Y/N) woke up out of habit more than anything else, eyeing the clock on the table first and then realising that the monitor was uncharacteristically silent for what was feeding time. When she turned over, she smiled and understood why.

Before she even reached the door, she could hear Johnny cooing at their newborn. A tired smile of unabashed pride rising on her lips.

"You're going to get so big and strong." Johnny cooed, once she came to the door, (Y/N) saw him dangling a toy over the child's outreached arms. "You're already such a good baby, aren't you? You get that from your mom I can tell." Johnny sniggered to himself, "You don't to cry or fuss." He leaned down to kiss their forehead.

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange with an amused smile.

"But you're always reaching for your mom. Always looking around for her. You get that from me." There was a glow of pride in his eyes. "We're both a little lost without your mum around, aren't we?" He rocked up and down till he heard a small giggle, a short laugh leaving his lips at the sound.

Johnny put the toy down to reach for the bottle on the table and (Y/N)'s heart squeezed with more love for her incredibly thoughtful husband.

"I can't believe you're my little baby." Johnny grinned as eager, tiny hands reached out to grab the bottle. "I'm going to teach you how to throw a ball and give you your first beer someday. Maybe we can both learn how to make your mom's cake." Johnny laughed to himself, "I'm going to love you so much." Johnny scrunched his nose when a little hand wrapped around his finger. "I'm the luckiest man in the world and you're proof, you know that?" He whispered, eyes glowing despite the dim light in the room. "All this because your mom thought I was a hairy ghost." He giggled to himself.

"You need to stop talking about that." She finally gave in, speaking up. Johnny looked up, wide eyed before grinning when he saw her. "Plus, it was a witch."

Johnny laughed, tired but content. "Just know now. I'm going to tell our kids this till they're sick of this story. Then I'm going to tell their friends and their spouses. Even the other's kids are going to grow up listening to our story." Johnny stuck his tongue out at her before giving her a love struck smile as she came closer, "We're my favourite story." He leaned over to kiss her forehead as she stood in front of her husband and child.

"I thought that was Iron Man?" She raised a brow.

"Oh damn." Johnny winced, "Tough choice." He clicked his tongue. She rolled her eyes at him, reaching down to tickle the baby's belly.

___

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I’ll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[cartierbin]

request — hey! if you aren’t too busy with school and stuff could you make a d!lf hyunjin or felix and just make it super rough

『 pairing — hyunjin x reader

genre — smut + mafia lord dilf!hyunjin and his four year old daughter’s teacher + gunplay type shit

word count — 1.2k

notes — hope you enjoy this loves. 』

smut under the cut !

“you have someone who wants to see you, mr. hwang”. his assistant reassured, clutching her clipboard a little too tightly to her chest. the blonde haired man allowed the thick white smoke to rise from his lips and settle into the air around him. he closed a file on his desk, beckoning his hand towards the door. “let them in”. to look as well kept and intimidating as hyunjin looked, he was actually a soft spoken man. stern, but soft spoken. his office door swung open and in came a woman he thought he’d never see here. usually, when women came into office they only wanted one thing and one thing only. it never crossed his mind that his very own daughter’s teacher wanted that same thing. when you walked in you were timid. the way his blonde hair sifted over his eyes and how luscious he looked in his suit jacket and open dress shirt beneath it, with multiple necklaces dangling at the center of his chest. you hesitantly sat in the seat in front of his desk and tried to divert your gaze elsewhere. you didn’t want to come off more lustful than you already were. especially since you didn’t know your boundaries.

his eyes skimmed over your skin tight salmon colored dress, attentive to the way it hugged you in all the right places. “may I ask you what you’re doing here?”. he questions, assuming that you knew what he was talking about. you, his daughter’s teacher coming to seek him. “I heard the pay here was good. and you know my occupation pays very little. I need something to help me make ends meet”. he gives you an unsettling stare, folding his arms on the table. “do you know what you’re getting yourself into? this isn’t just some regular job. we kill people”. you nod nervously, “I know I know I just can’t find anyone else who pays just as good as you do. I really need the money”. he dropped his eyes again over your body, trying to figure out what a beautiful woman like you would do if you were to work for him. you were much too pretty to be in harm’s way. he leans back in his chair with another intake of his cigar, allowing the smoke to cloud over his eyes. "tell me. what's your prissy little ass going to do if you work for me? do you know how to shoot a gun? can you handle money well? are you good with drugs?". you swallowed, knowing in your heart of hearts that you have never done any of those things in your life. maybe handling money could suffice. you thought back to your teen years, when you were a cashier for a grocery store. as far as anything goes, that's the most experience you've ever had with handling money. then again, grocery store cash was never much. definitely wasn't the huge amounts of cash hyunjin was referring to. he could tell you were thinking to yourself. he could tell that you were indecisive. he could tell you were inexperienced. that was one thing that he never tolerated.

"looks like you came to the wrong job didn't you? if you're not a made man how will I hire you? did you come in here to waste my time?". you quickly shook your head no becoming frightened at the hint of frustration in his voice. he could've had any weapon behind his desk for all you knew. and you hadn't planned on coming here just to die. "no mr.hwang I don't want to waste your time at all. I just need money and these other jobs aren't going to help me. I'm willing to take whatever training I can". hell no. hyunjin would never put an inexperienced worker on the job. which is why when he skimmed your body again with his eyes, a smirk flickered at the edge his lips. he lifts himself up from his seat which startled you a bit. you didn't know what he was planning on doing but the sudden movement was unexpected. "I don't train. all my workers are experienced and it'll remain that way". as much as you wanted to pay attention to the sudden drop of octave in his voice, your eyes shifted to the silver weapon in his hand. your body immediately grew cold. he leans on the front of his desk and stares down at you, smirking. "but... since my wife doesn’t please me enough I think I can use someone like you”. he swiped his tongue over his supple lips and your chest flooded with nervousness. “use me?”. you could’ve sworn you heard the gun click at that moment. he leans down and presses his lips against your ear. “how would you like it if I hired you as my sex worker?”. you swallowed. not expecting those kind of words to even fall from his lips. you hummed, at the edge of an answer. you felt the cold metal of the gun sweep along your thighs, he started to rub small circles into your inner thighs with it. “don’t act like you don’t want it”. he breathed down the nape of your neck. you shivered, feeling trapped yet turned on at how heated the room had gotten.

you were still sitting when he steps behind you, clasping his fingers around your neck whilst dragging the gun between your bare legs. you panicked. never in your life have you had a gun so close to your body before, nevertheless touching your skin. your heart thudded around in your chest as your dress drew upwards exposing your panties. he dipped the gun into the front of them, sitting it right on top of your pubic mound. you flinched and gripped his forearm. “to be my sex worker means that I can use your body whenever and however I want. are you willing to be used?”. your breathing became heavier while you nodded and swallowed, praying that his fingers weren’t on the trigger. he inches the gun just at the entrance of your hole, he teased achingly slow like the sly man he was. he loved the way you gasped each time he pushed the barrel deeper, he loved feeling you shiver in his grip while he kept clicking it leaving you on the edge. on the edge of thinking that he was going to shoot it any second. he basked in your fear, it made his heart warm. “you’ll be paid a generous salary, thousands by the hour. however just know that if any information you’ve heard ever leave these walls, I’m not afraid to kill you”. you squirmed while he worked the gun, fucking your pussy with it deep and slow. you opened your thighs wider, strewing your head back just a tad. you heard everything he said, it was just difficult for you to reply. your choked up moans was making him hard. It was challenging for even his wife to do that. she hadn’t got him worked up in months. he felt the gun become slippery at how wet your were becoming. your hardened nipples perked straight up underneath the fabric of your dress and sheer bra. “do you understand me?”. he questions all while trying to seem unfazed. “yes, yes I understand”. you stuttered with your legs trembling around the gun. “you get wet so fast I already know I’ll be fucking the shit out of you”.

with the way he was aggressively thrusting the weapon in between your folds, he didn’t have to. your mouth gaped open in bliss. every time you thought he would slow down and have a little mercy he didn’t. that was just the nature of hwang hyunjin. your hips jerked onto the piece of metal desperate to cum. It was shameful how much your stomach churned at the pleasure you received from just a weapon alone. he could click it as much as he wanted but you grew fond of the thrill. the thrill that a loaded gun was sinking into your channel with a pleasure that had you seeing stars. you reached up to grip his forearm with two hands. “you like this shit don’t you? you like when guns play with your little pussy?”. you groaned a breathless yes, growing overwhelmed with how low his voice tone dropped. you needed to make ends meet but you never thought you’d be making it this way. at the hands of a mafia lord who only wants to use you. “you will come to me whenever I call you. whenever I need you I’m going to fucking wreck your body. are you willing to take all of that?”. you nod much more vigorously now with your lips sealed, and sparks flying through your torso. he tightens his grip around your neck and tilts your head back further until your eyes were feasting his above. “open your mouth”. you dropped your jaw, unsure of what he wanted until you saw a long string of saliva transfer from his lips to your tongue. “as long as you’re an absolute slut for me you’ll never struggle again”. he pumped the gun in and out of your wet hole until you were creaming down the front of it, your body spasming from the intensity of it all. he pulled it out of you, shoving the barrel between his lips to clean your mess. it was sexy the way he done it, his thick tongue swirling around the piece of metal.

“welcome to the family. I’ll call you my mistress”.

[gladerscake]

No One Better

(Gally x Reader)

Hope you have some time, because this one’s large and in charge (of the feels, that is). Huge thanks to all the lovely people who encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy!

A few beads of sweat rolled down your temple, your bottom lip beginning to sting from how hard you were biting down on it, your brows furrowed in intense concentration, all while you were struggling to finally saw through this one stupid chunk of wood. It was a particularly thick one - you’ve been at it for almost ten minutes, with frustratingly minimal results. The muscles of your right arm were positively aching, pleading for you to drop the shucking saw and just ask somebody for help.

However, your resolve was stronger than your protesting muscles. You could do this. You didn’t need help.

You gave yourself a minute to rest before drawing in a deep, determined breath, and getting right back to it. You couldn’t believe it - will all this effort, you’d only managed to saw through half of it, thus far. Gally always made it look so easy...

“Having a bit of trouble there, baby?”

Your mouth immediately curled in a little grin at the deep sound of his voice. Gally’s voice. As if on cue, just when you were beginning to think about him.

The Keeper of the Builders, who you now proudly called your boyfriend, seemed to have a sixth sense for those things. To anything that had to do with you, really.

It’s been a bit over a week, since you two had made the fateful transition from close friends to something much, much more thrilling. And even though it hasn’t been that long since the change of your relationship’s nature, you could say, without question or a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve never felt happier.

The way Gally treated you on the daily, with such gentleness, care, and endless affection, made your heart bloom with delight at his mere presence. You couldn’t say you had been shocked by his manner - he’s always been kind to you, since the moment you two have met. But seeing this side of him, the loving and warm side, the one nobody else but you got to see, was a gift in itself. You believed you were immensely lucky that Gally returned your feelings and wanted you by his side, and you couldn’t wish for someone better. To you, there was no one better - simple as that.

As of this moment, you chose to bite back a cheeky remark in response to Gally’s slightly teasing question. Instead, you straightened out your posture, allowing your grin to grow as you loosened your death-grip on the saw handle and turned to face him.

“Me? Not at all! What gave you that impression?” You chirped as Gally chuckled, deeply, taking a big step closer to you. His striking bluish-green eyes peered down at your delicate features, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. God, you could never get used to how attractive he was to you...

“You’re kidding, right? I could hear your grunts all the way from the Deadheads.” He glanced at the saw in your hand, trailing his gaze to the chunk of wood and your underwhelming progress, and swiftly figured out what was causing his girl such distress.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment “Well, not everyone is a big hunk of muscle like you, my Keeper.”

Gally tried to control the blush he instantly knew was about to paint his cheeks. ‘My Keeper’. You’ve been calling him that often since you two became a couple, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it. It almost always distracted him from whatever he was doing or talking about, but he didn’t mind. He definitely didn’t want you to stop.

Nonetheless, he kept his composure and cleared his throat, grinning down at you “You flatter me, baby. But you’re not wrong.”

You released a light-hearted laugh as he quickly scooted behind you. “Here, let me help.”

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body and circling your abdomen as Gally reached around you, his powerful torso nearly pressing against your back, his calloused hand enclosing around your smaller fingers on the handle, in order to guide your movements. Your pulse was already beginning to quicken, your face gradually getting hotter, as you struggled to ignore the effect his closeness was having on you.

“T-Thanks...”

Gally pressed a sweet peck to your cheek as he tightened his grip “Mm-hm. Now, shoulder up...” He instructed, softly, his breath slightly tickling your ear. You did as told. “Yep, just like that. Now lock your elbow. Your arm’s a little wobbly - that’s why it’s taking so much out of you.” Again, you did as he said, doing your earnest to focus on the task at hand, and not on your boyfriend’s low, breathy voice in your ear, or the heat of his strong body, or the way his arms felt around you...

“Like that?” You inquired, timidly, glancing up at his freckled face.

“Exactly. Now, drag it back and forth, and don’t squeeze the handle too hard - you’re just wasting energy that way.”

You took a deep breath and proceeded sawing through the wood, with Gally’s help, as he kept a firm grip on your hand. To your surprise and relief, it really did feel a lot easier, now that you were no longer straining your muscles in all the wrong ways, and in a matter of minutes, the sawed-off piece fell to the ground with a soundly “thump”.

You let out a victorious laugh, causing Gally to chuckle at your reaction. He thought it was entirely too cute.

“Finally! I did it!” You beamed at your boyfriend as he pried the handle out of your hand, placing the saw on the work table before interlacing his fingers with your own.

“You sure did. Next time, if you’re struggling with something, just come get me, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, blissfully, giving him a short nod of agreement. “Fine, fine, if you insist...” You mumbled, the urge to kiss him coating your senses and pulling you closer into him. You didn’t fight it. Standing up on your tippy-toes, your linked your arms around his neck and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his, your ears basking in Gally’s deep hum of satisfaction. His hands wasted no time gripping your waist as he kissed you deeper, his lips moving so seamlessly and tantalizingly against your own, your mind beginning to swim at the sensation.

Despite not wanting to break the kiss, the distant sounds of other gladers working and chattering forced you to stay aware of your surroundings as you reluctantly pulled away from Gally’s lips with a sweet final peck. The builder grinned, giving your waist a languid squeeze before delivering you a wink that almost made your knees buckle.

“As much as it kills me, I gotta get back to work, baby.” He feigned a sneer as you chuckled, nodding in compliance and unwinding your arms from around his neck. You stepped back, already missing his closeness and warmth.

“Same here. Meet you at dinner?”

“You’d better!” Gally smiled, genuinely, before turning on his heels and departing to his task of fixing the Med Hut’s leaky roof.

-later that day-

“Alright, boys, let’s wrap this up. We’ll get back to it first thing tomorrow.” Gally clapped a couple of his builders on their backs - his way of letting them know they had done a good job without actually having to say it. He wasn’t big on dishing out praise and compliments, unless it came to you.

“Whatever you say, boss!” Scott, one of his most capable builders, quipped as he climbed down from the roof, fist-bumping a couple of his friends while they stretched their sore muscles.

Gally huffed to himself before going to pick up his instruments, his tall form disappearing from the guys’ line of vision.

As soon as the Keeper appeared to be gone, Scott’s expression promptly melted from cool to sour, a hint of spite flashing through his eyes.

“Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get back to his girlfriend.” He deliberately over enunciated the last word, frowning, as if just the thought of it was too ridiculous to occur.

Another builder, Jack, cocked a questioning brow at his friend “Oh? Jealous much?”

Scott rolled his eyes in response “I just don’t get it! How did that even happen? Why him? She had like forty shanks to choose from, and she went for him?”

Jack had to snicker at the guy’s plain and obvious jealousy, the sight of it being thoroughly entertaining. “Hey, easy, man! Clearly she sees something we can’t. She’s made her choice - deal with it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to pick the ugliest one? I mean, honestly, if it were someone like Minho, or Ben, or hell, even Newt, I’d sort of get it, but...”

Gally scoffed, bitterly, rejecting the idea of listening to the rest of that lovely conversation. Did they really think he couldn’t hear them? He’s only been a few feet away this whole time, for shuck’s sake. His features darkened, his hands clenching into fists. He knew it was stupid to let something like that get to him - obviously it was nothing more than jealous ramblings of some dumb shank, who would most likely wet himself if he knew Gally had heard him.

Still, as much as he despised to admit it... It stung, hearing that. Mostly because, deep down, some obnoxiously self-deprecating part of him, agreed with Scott’s words.

Gally had never really given much thought to his looks. That is, until you came along. As his feelings for you grew, so did his insecurity. He knew he wasn’t conventionally “hot”. True, he was one of the tallest guys in the glade, and he assumed he had a nice body, thanks to his job as a builder, so he at least had that going for him. His face, however... Gally didn’t believe it was anything to be considered “handsome”. As opposed to you, who he thought was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He hated this, hated feeling like he didn’t deserve you, hated knowing that you could probably do so much better than him, especially when you weren’t there to reassure him, to tell him otherwise and kiss away his every troubled thought.

Gally growled, internally, his jaw tensing and his knuckles turning white. No, he needed to snap out of it. What the hell? You wanted him. You chose him, you were with him, you were his. He couldn’t let his faith in your devotion to him crumble, just because some dumbass had opened his big resentful mouth.

With an exasperated grunt, Gally stalked off to meet you for dinner, as promised. He was sure that as soon he saw your face, he would forget all about what had just happened. He hoped gazing into your glimmering eyes would be enough to hush every last unwelcome thought. Yet, as hopeful as he was for that, the tension in his broad shoulders remained, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, with very little he could do about it.

-later-

Something deep within you was telling you something wasn’t right. You felt a nagging sting of worry pinching at your heart as you made your way back to Gally’s hut, that you and him now shared.

You couldn’t help but sense that Gally had seemed a bit... off, all throughout dinner. The soft smiles he’d sent your way didn’t reach his eyes. His usually bright bluish-green eyes had been tinged with an underlying bleakness, and you had no clue where it was coming from. You’d tried to ask him about it, but the only response you got was a mumbled “It’s nothing” and a hurried kiss on your cheek.

You didn’t like it. You knew Gally so well by now - you could tell when something was bothering him. You cared about him, deeply, and so, seeing him so obviously anxious about something and not telling you what it was, put you in a bothered state as well.

Whatever it was, you needed to get it out of him. Gally was your boyfriend, and a pretty amazing one at that. If there was anything at all that you could do to help him deal with what was plaguing mind, you would do it, over and over again, if you had to.

You pushed the door open and entered the hut, a loving smile curling your lips as your eyes fell upon Gally. The builder was sitting on the bed, busily scribbling something in his journal, his knit brows and slightly clenched jaw painting his face with a look of pure concentration. Probably sketching in some alterations for the Med Hut expansion. You released a muted giggle, thinking his expression was entirely cute.

Gally immediately looked up at the sound that escaped you, his smile reflecting your own, his deeply focused gaze softening the second it landed on you “Almost bed time, huh?”

“Yes, indeed.” You delivered a little grin as you shut the door behind you and approached him, your delicate hands landing on his shoulders with a pleasant squeeze “And you’re still not done working?” You eyed the journal in Gally’s hands.

He responded with a scratchy chuckle “Perks of being a keeper, baby - I’m never done.” He feigned a deep sigh that made you giggle once more, but nonetheless, placed the journal aside, wanting to give you his full attention.

The only instances where you two got to be truly alone with one another were early in the morning and right before bed, so Gally cherished these moments with you. He would spend every second of every day alone with you if he could, but for the time being, he’d take what ever little scraps of time he could get.

“Well, I’m here now, so... Maybe you’re done, after all?” You smiled, your hands kneading his shoulders in a relaxing manner, feeling his firm muscles slowly release built-up tension under your touch.

Gally grunted, deep in his throat, as his own hands took a hold of your waist, pulling you closer in a not-so subtle motion.

“I sure as hell am, now...” The deep, slightly raspy tone of his voice made you weak in ways you hadn’t imagined before, but you were far from complaining.

With a playful smirk, Gally suddenly fell back on the bed, and you yelped in surprise as with one simple, yet effective tug, he brought you down with, causing you to topple onto him.

“Gally!” You attempted to scold, lightly slapping his chest, but the laughter bubbling from within you, as well as the rising pink hue to your cheeks, let him know how you truly felt about it.

“Aww! Sorry, is this too much?” He asked, almost rhetorically, a cheeky glint dancing in his eyes.

The blush adorning your cheeks only grew as you gazed down at him in pure fascination. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe Gally was yours, that you got to see the side of him everyone else was blind to. You shook your head, leaning down to plant an amorous kiss on his plump lips, as he took no time melting into it with a low-pitched hum. His large hands, warm and eager, gripped your waist tighter as he shifted you both up the bed, until the back of his head almost knocked against the makeshift wooden frame. You whimpered, softly, against his mouth before breaking the kiss. You witnessed, with a tinge on satisfaction, that his freckle-littered cheeks were now even redder than your own, his breath escaping through his parted lips as he stared at you like you were something out of this world.

Gally felt like he could never get enough of you. Your closeness had his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and the intoxicating sensation of your lips on his sent him reeling with more need than he knew what to do with. However, as he gazed at you, taking in every detail of your breathtaking features, his mind involuntarily called back to his inner turmoil, a couple hours prior. The spark in his eyes dulled, the corner of his lips twitching with a barely-noticeable frown as he was pulled back into that loathsome state of self-doubt he’d tried so hard to fight against.

The rapid change in his expression, as minimal as it was, did not evade your notice. In a blink of an eye, your dream-like state morphed to concern as you reached up a hand to cup his warm cheek “Hey... Gally, what’s wrong?”

He huffed a light puff of air, tilting his head to nuzzle his face into your cupped hand, the small gesture nearly making you swoon.

“It’s nothing. Stupid. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Gally mumbled, the response identical to the one you’d received at dinner.

Well, that wasn’t going to be good enough this time. You frowned in sympathy “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier, too. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now.”

Gally relinquished a hushed groan, evidently reluctant to share what was on his mind, but all you wanted was for him to know that there was nothing in the world he couldn’t talk to you about. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the exasperated crease on his forehead, momentarily feeling it smoothen out under your lips.

“Come on... please? I can’t go to sleep if I know something’s bothering you.”

Gally sighed, deeply, his intent gaze meeting your own, and once again you were met with the somber pool of dejection that you had been so quick to spot.

To say he was hesitant to discuss it would be an understatement, but the plea in your gaze and soft voice was impossible for him to ignore. There probably wasn’t a single thing you couldn’t get out of him.

With a defeated grunt, Gally reached a hand up to carefully thread his calloused fingers through your silky hair, his voice dipping an octave lower as he finally spoke “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the mere sound of those words leaving his mouth. You felt a ferocious urge to stop him right then and there, yet... you didn’t. No, you couldn’t interrupt. You asked for this, for his honesty, so now he was giving you exactly that. You had to let him finish.

“I mean... You could’ve had anyone. Absolutely shuckin’ anyone, but for a reason I still don’t fully understand, you’ve picked me.” Gally bit the inside of his cheek, his rough fingertips turning cold as he let the words fall from his mouth. “I know what people are thinking. ‘What the hell is an amazing, sweet, funny, beautiful girl like you, doing with one of the ugliest shanks here?’. And you know what? I hate it, but they’re not wrong.”

Every sentence shot an icy pain through your heart as you had to bite your bottom lip to physically restrain yourself from shutting him up. You couldn’t stand that Gally was so critical of himself, especially when you saw him as the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“And please don’t take this the wrong way - I’m not doubting your... feelings for me, and I’m so lucky that they’re even there, it’s just...” He trailed off, briefly, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “It’s a bit of a struggle to understand. Because you deserve the best, and I’m... well, hardly that.”

A short pause. Finally, it sounded like he was finished, and now it was your time to let him know precisely how you felt about all of it.

With a preparatory intake of air, you cupped his face in both hands, making him look nowhere else but at you, your eyes shining with determined empathy. “Gally... I chose you, because it’s always been you. Forty shanks here, and not one of them ever made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. I can’t explain why, because it’s not something that has an explanation - I don’t have an alphabetised list of reasons why I fell for you! I just... did. Because of who you are - that’s everything about you. And I don’t know who you’re calling ‘ugly’, because it sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend.” You paused, watching his eyes as he stared at you, mesmerized, without blinking, his mouth falling slightly agape as you could practically hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “So... Yeah, I can confidently say, without question, that I’m pretty happy with what I chose.”

After a few seconds of wired silence, Gally finally broke out of his entranced stupor, his voice nearly quivering as he traced a finger down the soft curve of your jaw.

“And what is it, that you chose?”

His touch made the loving warmth within you spread like wildfire, soothing your throbbing heart and coaxing a delicate grin to etch your lips “The best.”

At that, Gally released a short, incredulous huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to question it any further. You were truly a gift to him, a gift he had no idea what he’d done to deserve. In that moment, all the worries he’d had were effectively silenced, pushed away into the farthest, deepest crevices of his mind, not to be heard from again in a long time, if ever. Not a minute more would be wasted caring about anyone else’s opinion on your relationship with him. The only one that mattered was yours, and that’s the one he would hold into, for as long as you’d allow it. For as long as you’d want him.

Gally’s muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into him, tightly and protectively, as he buried his face in your hair, trying to get you as close as humanly possible, and still feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You responded by nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your lips pressing the gentlest of kisses to his sun-kissed skin, the heat of his strong chest soaking into you and shrouding you in an impenetrable sense of comfort and love. His love. The type nothing else could compare to or dare to challenge.

“You know, the day you change your mind will definitely be the most devastating of my life...” Gally whispered, almost inaudibly, the consuming safety of his embrace clouding your senses.

All you could do was breathe a soft chuckle, holding onto him tighter as your lips murmured against his neck “I guess it’s a good thing that day isn’t coming.”

Because in your mind, with all the uncertainties and uneasiness that surrounded the glade, that was the one thing you didn’t have a single doubt about. It was him. Gally. And there was no one better.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @the-marvel-meme-emporium @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[storiesforallfandoms]

survivor ~ captain jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 2090

request?: yes!

“Hello, I have an idea for a story with Jack Sparrow so I thought I'd request, one where Jack rescues the reader from a sunken ship at the ocean, where she was apparently the only survivor. At first, she's very reserved and cautious around him, but as they get to know each other and she's more comfortable with him, Jack sees himself falling hard for her, he has quite a lot of trouble dealing with/confessing his feelings but in the end, they get together. Thanks :D”

description: in which he saves the only survivor of a sunken ship and helps her to open up to his crew

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, ptsd, and survivor’s guilt

masterlist (one, two)

The sight of the broken ship was haunting to the usually chipper crew of the Black Pearl. They had heard the explosion before seeing the wreckage, but hoped they were wrong in thinking it was a shipwreck.

Jack watched from the wheel, trying to keep a straight face as his eyes searched the water for signs of bodies. If they could save at least one person, just one, he would call it a victory.

“Call if you see anything,” he announced to his crew. “Anything we could salvage.”

But the further they travelled into the wreckage, the more evident it became that they weren’t going to find anything - or anyone.

Jack sighed, an ache in his heart for his fellow pirates who had likely died in the shipwreck. His eyes lingered on the water a moment longer before he started to turn away from the wreckage.

“Jack!” Elizabeth exclaimed as the boat began to turn. “There’s a girl in the water!”

They pulled the floating body out of the water. Her skin was stone cold and was nearly translucent it was so pale. Jack knelt down next to her and lowered his ear to her mouth. He couldn’t hear her breathing, and her chest wasn’t moving to signify there was any life left in her body. He started pushing on her chest, breathing into her mouth and nose between the pressing against her chest.

“She’s gone Jack,” Will said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s take her somewhere to gibe her a proper burial.”

Jack sighed. He didn’t want to give up, but there seemed like no hope in his attempts. As he sat back on his knees, the girl suddenly spit up whatever water was in her lungs and started coughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“Get her something to warm her, and some dry clothes!” Jack told two of his crew members. He regarded the panicking girl with a gentle touch, pulling her attention to him. She was breathing heavily, her eyes darting between the crew members in fear before they rested on Jack. “You’re alright, you’re safe now. We’ll take care of you.”

~~~~~~

Their new passenger, unsurprisingly, kept to herself for a while after she was saved. They kept her above deck for the rest of the day in order to make sure she was okay, but once the night came, Jack insisted she have her own space so she didn’t feel smothered with everyone else’s presence.

The first night was hard. She woke up screaming from nightmares of the crash, waking everyone else on the ship with her. She refused to talk to anyone who came to comfort her, and even physically pushed them away. After that, she was left alone by everyone.

Except for Jack.

Jack would visit her regularly to bring her food, clothes, and other supplies. He would ask her how she was, ask about her past and the ship she had been travelling on. His attempts were null as she never responded, but he didn’t stop trying.

Eventually, he did get her to speak her first sentence, “My name is (Y/N).”

The more he went to her, the more (Y/N) began to open up to him. It was a slow start, and even when he could get her to start talking she didn’t discuss much about herself, but soon enough she would be excitedly waiting for Jack’s daily visit, and eventually she even started to go to him to see him.

On one day, (Y/N) was waiting in Jack’s cabin for him to return from an adventure he had gone on. She was starting to look much better than the day she had been saved from the wreckage, and even before that. Jack and his crew hadn’t seen what she was before, but if they had they definitely would’ve been happy with her progress, no matter how slow it was.

She jumped when the door to Jack’s cabin opened violently and the captain stumbled in. His clothes were torn and he was bloody on his arms and his face. He was obviously hurt, but the way he sauntered over to his desk could’ve fooled anyone.

“What happened?” (Y/N) asked, standing from Jack’s bed to approach him.

“We walked right into their trap,” Jack responded, opening his desk and pulling a bottle of rum from it. “We weren’t ready for it.”

“Is everyone else...” (Y/N) trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

“We didn’t lose anyone,” Jack finished, knowing where she was going. “Just some injuries. They’re all being taken care of.”

He collapsed onto his chair, groaning as pain coursed through him. (Y/N) approached him and took the bottle from his hand. She retrieved the bandages from the bottom drawer in his desk and started to treat the wound on his face. Through the winces of pain, he smiled up at her.

“You know your way through my desk pretty well,” he teased.

When she smiled back at him, it was as if the entire room brightened. “I’ve watched you enough times to know where your medical supplies are, and to know that you do not know how to properly clean and dress a wound.”

“I try not to waste the rum.”

(Y/N) gave him a playful look before pouring some more of the rum over his wound. He winced and sucked in a painful breath as she dabbed the blood with a cloth before applying a bandage to it. She reached for his tattered shirt to take it off, but she hesitated a moment. Jack looked up at her, seeing that she was trying to avoid looking at him, and took off his shirt for her.

She began to clean the wounds on his chest, which luckily weren’t deep. Jack watched her as she worked, noticing a bit of strain in her face. He had seen that look many times before, usually on other pirates that had seen too much in their lifetime. He had seen it on his own father and uncle’s faces before both of them left him to his own devices.

“You’ve done this before,” he noted, although he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

(Y/N) looked up at him, her eyes wide like they had been when she was first saved. Jack regretted speaking and was about to take back his words when (Y/N) spoke.

“I was the medic on the ship you saved me from,” she said. “Whenever the crew members were hurt, I would help them.”

It was the first time she had told anyone anything about her past, especially about the ship she used to be a part of. She could feel a lump growing in her throat as she remembered the men that she had once considered a family that she would never see again.

“How long were you travelling with them?” Jack asked.

She was absentmindedly wiping his chest now, the blood already cleaned from his wounds. “Since I was a young girl. I was the daughter of their former captain. When he got too old, he resigned to life on land, but I wanted to keep travelling. I was never very strong, nor fast, so actually being a pirate was out of the question. I was eventually taught how to care for their wounds and for their sick so I could stay on board as a medic.”

As she took the bandages to wrap up Jack’s wounds, flashes of the many men she had patched up flashed before her eyes. The familiar faces and familiar smiles that she still dreamed of every night, that eventually turned to nightmares.

She looked away from Jack as tears started falling down her eyes. Jack reached up to wipe a tear with his thumb, cradling her face gently.

“They didn’t deserve to die,” she said, shaking her head. “They were good men. They weren’t violent pirates, they didn’t rob or kill anyone innocent. They took from bad people, they helped those in need. They were the most selfless men I had ever met.”

“What happened the day of the shipwreck?”

(Y/N)’s face twisted with grief as she remembered that fateful day. It was something that would always be in her memory, no matter how hard she tried to forget it.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We thought it was just us for miles. I was below deck when the first cannonball hit the boat. I came up to try and help the best I could, but the next one hit so close to us that we became dazed. The next one...”

She trailed off, wincing at the memory of the loud explosion. When it had hit the boat, she was thrown into the water. Her men were around her, struggling to get free from the remaining intact parts of the ship. There was another explosion and everything went black. (Y/N) was so sure she was dead. Part of her wished the explosion had killed her, too.

“Probably one of the bad people that was ticked off,” Jack said, his voice soft and gentle. His wounds were dressed, but he made no effort to move to put his shirt back on. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

“I still have dreams about them,” (Y/N) told him. “About my crew, and about that day. I sometimes with I were one of the ones who went down with them. I wish I could’ve saved someone else besides me, or that I had joined them.”

Jack stood so that he was at eye level with her. (Y/N) couldn’t look up at him, but he gently tilted her head back so that she was.

“I’m glad we were able to save you,” he told her. “Even if this is the first time I’ve come to learn something about you, having you on this ship has made everything so much brighter. Our little visits and small conversations have made me so happy. I understand that feeling of guilt when you lose part of your crew and you couldn’t do anything to save them, although I can’t imagine the level of pain you are going through right now. But I’m glad you’re here.”

His words made her truly happy for the first time in weeks.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time. Jack brushed (Y/N)’s hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. He left a tingly feeling on the parts of her face that he touched. (Y/N) had never felt that before, and it made her stomach fill with butterflies and her heart flip with excitement.

Before they could stop themselves, Jack leaned in for a kiss and (Y/N) met him half way. He placed one of his hands on the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Her body pressed against his in a way that almost made him fall backwards into the chair again.

Jack finally pulled away first, gazing down into her eyes again. “Was that too much?”

(Y/N) giggled. “No. I really enjoyed it actually.”

“Me too,” Jack admitted. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“I would have thought a self proclaimed ladies man like you would’ve just taken the opportunity to kiss me long ago.”

Jack chuckled at this. “I may be a ladies man, but I am still respectful. You were grieving, I wasn’t going to take advantage of that.”

(Y/N) smiled at him. She pulled out of his embrace and passed him a shirt that was completely intact. “I appreciate all you have done for me, Jack. If you will have me, I would love to stay on the ship and be your medic.”

Jack smiled at her as he slipped the shirt on. “I was planning on asking you to stay regardless of what role you would play. Although, if you would like, I could also offer you a second role while you stay here.”

“And what role would that be?”

Jack kissed her lips again. “I wonder.”

(Y/N) was beaming as she looked up at him. “I would love to stay here with you Jack. I want nothing more than to travel the world with you, or to even be wherever you are.”

“Then it is decided,” he said. “You will stay with me forever.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Forever.”

[marvelandsuchstuff]

Sleepless Nights and Golden Sunlight (Corpse husband x reader)

A/N: helllllooooo everyone, I think like most of the internet I have been obsessing over this man for the past week and couldn’t help myself. I would however like to take this time to say that I will fully respect this man and if he ever does want this taken down - I will do so :). Anyways I wrote this shit in 12 hours and it’s now 2:45 am lol but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None, unless I can kill you with softness

It was well past 6 am when the sun had crept through the sheer curtains of the room (y/n) lay asleep in. The golden light streamed on to the grey bed in which she was peacefully in her own world. She was curled up around one of the pillows, with a small smile cracking through her soft lips.

In one of the other rooms, a man sat at a desk trying to record a video for the third time in the past four hours. He was growing increasingly furious with the script in front of him, no longer wanting to attempt reading it out. Put it down to the lack of sleeping for more than three hours or the fact that he was pushing himself too hard again with the rapid rate of growth over these past couples of weeks. But what he did know is that he needed to finish this video, however, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t seem to do it.

That’s when he finally gave up and slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, not noticing how loud it had been. He sighed and looked at the time on the side of the screen and starred as the minutes passed. Great. Another sleepless night had passed him by without a shutter of a thought. That’s when he heard a sleepy girl’s voice from the doorway.  

(y/n) awoke from her peaceful state when she suddenly heard a forceful thump from down the hall. She hurriedly pulled herself up, dazed and confused and still half asleep, slowly gathering her surroundings. The golden sun bursting into the room now blinded her eyes as she tried to look around at where she was. (y/n) put her hand up blocking it from her line of sight and sighed with relief as she realized she was at corpses' house, in his bed. Safe.  

Although this fact comforted her, she still was mildly distressed at the sound she heard moments before. Almost immediately she noticed how she was alone in the king bed, which wasn’t surprising, in fact, it was normal for her. She knew corpses’ sleeping habits often kept him awake until ludicrous hours in the morning and often he would only end up getting a few hours sleep before returning to reality. Often she would have to drag him to bed, only for him to leave once she had fallen asleep in his arms and he made sure she wasn’t worried about him. So, she decided to go find out what was happening and where her boyfriend had gotten to.

She put her hand down and slowly swung herself out of the warm covers onto the cold hardwood floors. She pushed herself off the mattress, steadily gaining her balance and then slowly walking to the door, still very tired from not having enough sleep. She then opened one of the bedroom’s double doors while leaning on it for a bit of support. (y/n) roamed down the hallway, her feet cold from the wood under them, searching for her boyfriend.

She noticed the dark purple glow coming out of his gaming room, which only could mean he was in there. As soon as this realisation occurred, she felt her legs growing even weaker and used her last source of strength to get over to the door frame. She quickly lent herself against it to support herself before she entirely collapsed onto the floor.

Once (y/n) had gathered herself again, she glanced over toward the computer monitor and lo and behold saw corpse staring at something on the screen. He seemed like he was in a different world, taking no notice of the small girl behind him. After about a minute (y/n) built up enough energy to let out a small and soft “hi”.

The chair swivelled around to face her, and a weak smile crept onto corpses’ face, “hey baby”,

However, he soon realised the state (y/n) was in and quickly dashed over to her before she completely fell to the floor.

“Princess, what are you doing awake?” he asked with concern as she sank deep into his chest for some stability.

“Hmmm, I’m ok”

“You sure, because right now you're clinging onto me as if gravity didn’t exist” he chuckled lightly.

“Yeah,” she whispered and giggled a bit, “Anyways I heard a loud noise and wanted to make sure no one had come to kidnap you,”

He laughed again, “Well I’m standing here are I? So I must be fine unless I’ve been given some drug to make me hallucinate the most beautiful person in the world. Which in that case I want to be on this forever.”

(y/n) laughed and smiled into his chest. They both just stood like this for a moment taking in the silence and the warmth of each other. Their breaths aligned creating a bliss in which the earth itself shattered away and nothing else mattered. Two souls becoming more intertwined with each second passing by. Heaven.

Corpse was the one to finally break the silence, softly asking, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

(y/n) nodded into him, “mhm, can you come with me?”

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon” he mumbled.

Then suddenly he manoeuvred around her, still making sure she had balance. He carefully picked the girl up bridal style and moved over to turn the lights off. At first, (y/n) was a bit taken aback by this but quickly adjusted to his body and curled into him. She closed her eyes softly caving into the darkness but wanting to stay awake until they got into the bed.

Corpse carried the girl in his arms down the hall, no longer concerned about the video he left or the lack of sleep he had. All that mattered was his wonderful and sweet little girlfriend who kept him sane at the worst of times. He looked down at her and he wondered how she ended up with him.

“Why’d you choose me?” he whispered, not sure if she heard him.

This made (y/n) open her eyes, now full of concern. “Because I love you, I knew it then and I know it now”

They both recounted the night they met. It wasn’t much, the met when poki had invited (y/n) to play a couple of games of among us and he was there. (y/n) remembers instantly feeling overwhelmed by even the few amount of people there. Corpse realised this a couple of rounds into the game after poki kept asking why she was so quiet compared to normal. He had seen her talk in poki’s videos a few times and was wondering the same because she was often more vocal in those videos. So he decided to message her to see if she was ok, seeing the same signs as he does with himself. For some reason (y/n) decided to tell him what was going on in hopes that he could help, knowing that he also struggled with these things.

After that, they immediately became really close and both were happy that they finally found someone who fully understood one another. The rest became history and now they were here, together.

“I love you too. So much,” Corpse said, smiling as he pushed the second of the double doors open. He then walked over to the opposite side of the bed and then carefully laid the girl down on the mattress. He moved the pillow she had been curled up against to make sure her head was supported.

After he put her down he went to the wall with the control panel and lowered the blackout blinds so they wouldn’t be disturbed by the already light sky outside. Then, he went back around to the other side of the bed and climbed on top of the grey sheets. He pulled the covers over both of them and tucked them into (y/n) side to keep her even warmer. Then snaking one hand over her torso and leaving one to play with her hair, he pulled closer to her body

“Are you going to tell me what was that noise I heard now?” (y/n) quietly asked,

“It was nothing, I just got mad at a video I was trying to film”

With this, (y/n) turned over to face him, searching for the emotions on his face. A strange look of sadness and anger and hatred she knew all too well. Very often this was corpses’ permanent emotional state where it is for something like a video or mean tweet, or more often himself. Every time she sees this side of him, it breaks her heart because he, of all the people in the world, definitely doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

The worst part is, however, often she feels as though there is nothing she can do to help. The best way she has found is to be there for him, whenever and whatever he needs because she knows he would do the same for her.

“Can I do anything?”

However, what she didn’t realize was how much she already does to help, just by being there. Because often if she’s happy and doing ok, he would always come back to her. His own personal light in the dark.

“Get some sleep for me baby. That’s all that I want you to do,” He replied, running his hand through her hair.

“Ok, but please stay with me?” she asked as she fell back into her own little world of dreams.

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon”

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Jeff The Killer with Camgirl S/O

How fucking dare you?

Just sitting there with slutty clothes presenting your lovely flesh and figure for other men to see for men who don't own you. Who don't love you, fuck you, or hold you. Something that was his job as he was crowned your boyfriend.

He watches you from across the room as he sat on an old office chair, growing more and more pissed off as you giggle innocently at the webcam sporting on your laptop. The same innocent giggle that you did when you would purposely get him jealous just so he would dick you down later.

He was more than aware of your games and this was just one of them.

His fist clenches nails digging into his clothed knees, threatening to rip the fabric of his jeans. The way your leg slides up and the fishnets showing more than enough of your skin. As far as he knew, that skin only for his eyes to see and of course these disgusting assholes paid to see those parts of you.

The only thing that kept him from not stomping over there and ripping the cords to shreds, shutting the scene down and deactivating your account was because 1. None of them actually get to touch you. They're just seeing from a screen 2. It did bring in money but it was the point of it.

His ears perk up at the familiar ding of when someone pays you a tip, making your smile turn into a toothy grin before licking your lips and spreading your legs a little more, sliding your hand teasingly downwards. "You're willing to pay that much for me to just play with myself? How generous." he snickers, rolling his eyes as that was your fake appreciative voice.

The same way people worked in customer service have but you obviously made more and were happier, it was present in your voice. And it irked him to no end.

Of course, you happened to just pick a perfect shade of lighting for tonight's show. One that happened to be his favorite especially compared to your body.

Cherry red lights with some neon lights in the back, creating the picture perfect shadows for your curves, accentuating the best of you possible, which was every part to him. But red was such a lustful color as well and oh honey, how greatly you were wearing it tonight.

His leg began to bounce up and down in aggravation, slowing feeling the need to chew his nail till they were all bloody.

Ha. How great would it look for you to suck on his fingers, lapping up all of the blood with big doey eyes silently asking for more to taste.

You were such a beautiful creature to break and mold to his perfection.

"Alright then!" you giggle, using your hands to pull down your lacy underwear, swinging it around your finger before making the point to throw it far enough to where it lands on his face.

You watch for a moment admiring the sight of his shoulders tensing as he was sniffing the underwear where your pretty cunt was hiding behind moments ago.

Oh, how sweet you smelled.

But then you pay attention back to the crowd, sliding just one digit down to your puffy folds, beginning to fake moan which almost makes Jeff laugh from behind the scenes.

You were such a liar. You didn't know yourself more than he did. He knew the twists and turns, inside and out and everything else just by how much his dick had paid your cunt a visit. You were his personal cocksleeve anyways.

A few more dings come through, wanting you to use more than your fingers to please yourself. You really wanted to use Jeff's knife handle but you had a feeling the men on this platform were too boring and vanilla for that.

Holding in a sigh, you turn around and get on your knees letting the camera get a nice view of your ass and pussy as you lean towards the lower shelf on the nightstand where you and Jeff kept your plastic box of toys. You smirk as you hear a low growl but roll your eyes his way, sending him a wink but not making it noticeable enough to raise questions.

You hum, turning back around the shirt you wore right now gave visual access to your cleavage.

The urge to claim you in front of others was getting stronger, almost a painful knot in his stomach as he watches you with eager eyes rummaging through the toy box, asking which one they would like to see you use to abuse your cunt with.

Though he didn't want to blow your cover of being 'single' as that was what you claimed because people would want to offer more money to someone who couldn't get help from someone else especially these filthy bastards who think if it wasn't for them, you would be homeless and no way to buy things to customize certain requests and make more money.

His heart started beating faster his breathing harder before he marched over there and the second your eyes connected you knew this was game over.

"Oh shit." you mumble, before being pushed onto your back already knowing to listen to whatever he wanted as he was your real savior.

He turns to the camera with an angry look on his face, several usernames exiting out of the room but plenty remained but the chat stopped with the emojis and suggestions. He continues to stare down at the screen before snapping his head over to you.

"You want to show them who you really belong to?" Oh how quick your submissive side caved for him and you nod, whimpering a little as he was taking a bit too long for your liking.

"That's a good girl." he smirks, taking out his knife from his hoodie the bit of light making the blade glint, moving a little to the side so the audience had just enough of a view to see what he was going to do.

He reverses the knife so it was the handle that teases your sopping sweetness that was begging for him already muscles pulsating and working themselves in preparation for him.

You whine, exposing yourself more for him as he shoves more of the handle into you the blade cutting his hand as he gripped it. His eyes narrow at you as he uses one of his hands to go to your lips. "Lick, slut. Show them how freaky MY girl is."

Well you were definitely going to be known for something on this platform.

Taking a moment to shared lock eyes it was enough to part your lips open for him to slip his long manly fingers into your mouth blood mixing with your saliva.

Such a delicious combination.

The two of you mixing so well.

Your moan grow louder in the room and with it not being soundproof, they only echoed.

Small spaced out dings could be heard as you both collected money from horny cocks. You were absolutely losing yourself to him once again as he continues with the handle before pulling it out.

"How cute...you've already creamed on it...this all for me doll?" he asks with a teasing tone as the handle shows hot white liquid over it. You nod frantically, whining while tears begin to build and threaten to fall from being teased and nothing more.

He was usually talkative during sex like his own words turn him on as well along with how your body responds to them.

He licks his lips slowly before sliding his tongue over the black cover of the knife, licking up your sweetness and swallowing it. He was quiet compared to you, he would not dare to make a single noise especially on camera. No. If anyone was going to be loud it was going to be you.

"You want my cock, sweetheart?" He asks, grabbing you and moving your body so once he fucks you he wouldn't be blocking the view. He gave the camera a side view and your face was now visible.

"Yes, daddy." you said respectively in a desperate tone, squeezing your thighs against him to trap him in your grip, but he just snickers grabbing some pink rope and quickly tightens your wrists together before stretching your arms over your head. "Beg." he says, taking his clothes off to reveal his overly sexy body.

Abs for days with prominent muscles and bones showing with his back and collarbones and oh fuck, his shoulder. He had a deep cut v line with a pretty thick dick that was around 7 inches.

What was enough to make you so full and slutty.

You hated when he did this because you could feel yourself growing shy but it was worse this time as there were eyes watching you. You look at him, silently sending him a message to just fuck you without saying anything. But he just smirks, leaning down to kiss your knee and to your thigh while making sure his dick teases your entrance.

You were in so much pain and all you could do was use your legs to touch him and nothing else. "P-p-please daddy.." you begin, making him tilt his head. "Please what? finish your sentence."

You swallow thickly, pressing your body against his trying to gain more of a chance for him to slip inside of you, but he pushes away. "Finish your sentence."

"Please daddy fuck me dumb like the stupid slut I am." you whine your cunt growing more and more wet and needy.

"Was that so hard?" he asks before ramming himself into you making you cry out in pleasure and some pain as he didn't let you adjust before continuing to thrust.

"This. This is my fucking cunt. I don't even have to pay for some lousy show with some fake ass moaning-" He growls, obviously sending a message to the remaining people.

"I own her. She's my little slut. My girl, to love, to hold, to FUCK! And guess what? I get it for free." He laughs seeing tears streak down to your cheeks.

"How pathetic that you only touch yourself, imagining how it would feel to be inside of her, well that's not enough." He grunts, grabbing his knife to make small cuts on your hips before leaning down to lick them up. Making some more cuts and spreads it around your stomach with his hand.

"She's my little freak." He only continued to get you bloodier and that was enough to make everyone leave.

He immediately pulls out making you kick your legs in a tantrum as he goes over and cuts the wires, disconnecting from everything and takes his time deleting your account. "I hope you learned your lesson." He says, eyeing you as you struggled to get the rope off your wrists watching as puts his pants back on and leaves the room.

Leaving you a bloody, horny, wet whore surrounded by toys and the memories of him using them on you. His scent all around. Everything in the room was his.

Including you.

[jared-19-cant-reid]

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

~

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.” 

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection. 

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it. 

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family. 

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress. 

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you. 

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you. 

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother. 

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you. 

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense. 

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face. 

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now. 

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks. 

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress.  His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot. 

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you. 

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over. 

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight. 

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real. 

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most. 

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well. 

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth. 

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

 As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you. 

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion. 

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion. 

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him. 

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance. 

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace. 

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high. 

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure. 

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions. 

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment. 

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.” 

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe. 

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

[babylooneytoonz]

bear.

pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

summary: you were mistakenly cursed by your best friend, Yennefer, when the two of you were young. Since then, at the strike of midnight, you turn into a hideous bear and run off into the woods to stay the night. No matter how powerful, Yennefer isn't able to undo your curse. One day, she meets Geralt, and so do you. However, what wasn't in the books was the fact that you found yourself falling for him. ♡

requested by: @dashingcavill

warnings: curses & folklores, Geralt being both a douche and a babe.

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[Masterlist link]

Yennefer had guests, as you were informed by one of the girls that lived with you, and it didn't come as a surprise, for Yennefer had guests visiting her almost everyday. What fascinated you was that you were always too curious to see who the visitor was, so you would sneak up on them, and spy on them until the night ended in either of the two— Yennefer falling into the man's arms and coiling herself around him like a snake, or Yennefer using her powers on him to make sure he wasn't found again.

You wondered what it was going to be tonight, as you brought your candle closer to your face; letting the faint orange glow illuminate your features and stepped out of your room, your dress flowing behind you like a trail of white poppies until you finally reached the hall, where an orgy was on full display, and you scrunched up your nose in disgust.

You were about to turn away, walk back into the warmth of the chambers that you had so eagerly left, just to see exactly who Yennefer's guests were, when you finally saw them. At first, you just saw a bard, at least he looked like one, ignoring the massive tumour like lump that hung from his throat. You could see that he was gasping for air, but it wasn't him that captured your attention— it was rather the white haired man, tall as an oak tree, hair white like snow, eyes yellow, like a lion's. There was something intimidating about him, something that told you that he wasn't a man to be messed with, yet there was something else; like an aura, an invisible one, that made you keep staring at him.

You kept watching, listening to him introduce himself as Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher and you couldn't help but wonder about the monsters that he had encountered all of his life? Did they include animals... like you?

As if on cue, it suddenly struck you that soon, it would be midnight, and this meant that you were supposed to stay away. You ran through the hallways, your heart beating wildly inside your chest, fluttering out of control. It was a race against time. Your insides had begun boiling, immense pain shooting through your body like a million needles being inserted into your flesh. You grabbed the door handle at the right time, kicking it open and stepping inside, bashing the door shut again.

If anyone was to enter your bedroom, they would find you gone already. Your window thrown ajar, your discarded clothes strewn all over the carpeted floor. They would find thick brown coloured hair like that of a bear's and they would wonder if you were attacked by a bear. But this would be someone who wasn't Yennefer, for this secret of yours was only known to her, for she had been the one to have cursed you once, when you two were just little girls. And from that night onwards, there wasn't a single night when you didn't turn into a massive brown bear, when the it struck midnight.

Geralt wasn't just a regular in Yennefer's life though; a good fuck and a bye bye. He stayed, for longer you had expected him to. Although he never seemed to notice you during the days, you sure noticed him. There were days you didn't see him altogether, and you assumed that he had gone, left for good but then after a few days you would see him again— or hear him— in Yennefer's chambers; their skins slapping together, their moans filling the air, and his grunts.

The first time Geralt of Rivia actually noticed you was a few months into his acquaintance with Yennefer. You were outside by the well, drawing out water, when you heard a whinny of a horse followed by a steady galloping. It was bright and sunny, and the sunlight falling right into your eyes forced you to use your palm to shield your eyes and squint at the unexpected visitor, only to see Geralt's mare, Roach, come to a halt a few meters away from you, and Geralt leaping off it.

Geralt was on his way back to Yennefer, after having fought a bruxa that was tormenting the villagers of a nearby village and all he wanted to do was be in her arms again. It was Yennefer that managed to break through the brooding Witcher's hard outer exterior and see him for the kind, gentle man he was from the inside. She loved him for him and that is what he loved about her. It was surprising for him when he saw a woman by the well that early in the morning outside Yennefer's home. It was still the wee hours of the morning, pale sunlight fell all over like ivory, and there weren't many people around, but she was there. Geralt frowned at this weird, foreign feeling that was suddenly growing in the pit of his something; that feeling being curiousity and the wish to just find out more about her.

As he leapt off Roach, turning to give her one pat against her side, he turned his back towards you and you couldn't help but fix your gaze on him. The fabric of his shirt was slightly ripped and you could see traces of his scars scattered all over. The Witcher turned towards you just then and immediately, you began looking away, not wanting to be caught staring at your friend's lover. A giddy feeling swept over you when you saw from the corner of your eye that he was walking towards you.

"Can I have some water?" He said to you, looking down at you, and your bucket of water and you flushed, immediately bringing the bucket towards him.

"Oh, I am sorry, definitely," you nodded, and the Witcher slowly lowered himself from the waist, as though bowing in front of you, and cupped his palms. You lifted the bucket carefully and began pouring water into the cup of his hands, letting him drink his stomach's fill.

When he stood up again, you could see the corners of his mouth were glistening wet, as he eyed you carefully, examining you through his golden orbs and you couldn't help but feel flustered. It made you begin feeling self conscious and unknowingly, your palm flew to the side of your face, clumsily struggling to push your loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"Who are you?" You were pulled off guard, for you hadn't expected this. All this while, you had sheltered at Yennefer's place, you had always kept to yourself, and not many bothered to be interested in knowing about you; at least none of her lovers. Biting on the insides of your cheeks, you seriously hoped that he wouldn't catch on the growing reddish hue that was taking over your face. But you had no idea that the Witcher can listen to your heart right now, that it was racing, beyond control, and if Geralt was to concentrate on it, he would totally think that your heart will leap out of your body and land across his feet.

"Me? I'm..[Y/N].. Yennefer's friend.."

Geralt kept watching you for a few seconds before he nodded in your direction, choosing not to reply before he slowly turned your back towards you and began making his way inside. You just kept standing there, watching him like an idiot, a small wave of a smile displayed against your lips.

It didn't happen with the blink of an eye, but rather, your journey of losing yourself to the Witcher's charms was a journey of months. From that day that you gave the Witcher some water to drink, you ran into him a countless number of times. Some of them were innocent, when you would just run into him at Yennefer's mansion, while leaving your chambers, or recklessly running down the halls. Lucky for you, Geralt never managed to step out of Yennefer's chambers around midnight, so he never found out the secret that you had hidden from the world.

Some of the run ins, were however, not so innocent, especially when you almost ran into him when he was relaxing in the bath, his naked body glistening under the flickering torch, his arms spread out around him, resting against the edge. He regarded you from the corner of his eye, his eyes ablaze but you couldn't decipher what was running through his mind.

"Where's Yen?" He asked, his back facing you, his fingers moving aimlessly over the surface of water.

"She's.. I saw her in her chambers. She was speaking to one of the mages," you mumbled awkwardly, struggling to keep your eyes trained to the ground, but it wasn't very easy. And it was definitely not easy when Geralt suddenly stood up, naked, his body glistening and droplets of water falling down his perfectly shaped butt before he slid out of the bath, and began striding towards where his clothes lay.

You couldn't keep your eyes off his perfectly toned, muscular back and the way his tight butt moved as he walked off. Even when you knew that he knew you were watching him, you couldn't help yourself be captivated by him. Geralt didn't admit it but he was secretly enjoying it, and for the same reason, his movements were incredibly slow, when he reached for his leather slacks and slid it on, slowly, yet teasingly. He still gave you the view.

In that moment, you were thankful for the distraction— of Yennefer walking in. But what you missed to see was the look of malice the way her dark eyes narrowed at you, glancing from you to Geralt's naked form.

"You're done already, love? Couldn't wait for me?" She purred, as she glanced at you in an obvious way, as though silently asking you why were you here. She regarded you top to bottom, licking over her lower lip as she began stripping, right in front of your eyes.

She loosened the buttons around her chest, popping them one by one before she lowered the neck of it, revealing her glistening skin. You looked away, as she slid the dress lower and lower, until it fell gracefully against her ankles and she stepped out of it, naked.

Geralt growled at the sight of her, and you, embarassed beyond your wits, fled as fast as you could, before their moaning filled your ears and you couldnt remove those sounds from your ears.

"Well, fuck," Geralt cursed under his breath, his shoulder slightly hanging now as he tried to reposition himself after the blow he had taken from the striga in the woods.

It was as if the creature was laughing at him, it's teeth bared out towards him; inviting him. Geralt spat under his breath,just when the striga charged at him once again, screeching in a high pitched tone, the heavy body of the cursed monster almost making the earth beneath it shake. Geralt's sword was ready to strike, but the creature played a move. Right when the striga was close enough, it leapt in the air and took a leap, taking the Witcher by surprise.

It's massive claw struck him and he flew back, flying through the air until he was lying flat against the ground.

The cursed monster hissed and snarled, and Geralt could feel it making its way towards him, but the shooting pain in his body had temporarily had him frozen and a little slower.

He didn't understand what happened after that, but whatever did happen, it bought him the time to get back to his senses and regain his lost strength. When he stood up again, he saw that the striga was engaged in a fight with a massive bear. It was just a normal bear for him, claws sharp as it tried to scratch the striga but even the bear seemed to be of no match to the cursed monster. The bear had scratches over its front legs, and it's chest.

What Geralt didn't understand was that the bear looked at Geralt, and blinked, and Geralt couldn't help but feel something incredibly familiar about those eyes, as if he knew the person lurking behind those eyes.

The moment didn't last long though, for the bear was clawed at by the striga, and tossed away. The poor animal whined in pain, but slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of the wounds on its furry body.

Geralt snarled, taking advantage of the distracted striga, who was already making its way towards that injured bear; he leapt to the ground, rolling on his back and got a hold of the sword he had dropped. Blinking, he took a deep breath, and aimed the sword right towards the striga and let it swoosh through the air. The aim was perfect, the blade of the sword struck the striga right at the base of its neck, piercing into the rotting flesh as the cursed monster stumped to the ground, dead.

You whimpered slightly as you struggled to lift your heavy animal form up, but the cuts on you were scorching in pain, causing you to groan and whine with every little movement you made. You stiffened entirely when you saw the dark eyed Witcher stand tall above your head, only to kneel down next to you, and grunt, "Who are you? You are not a bear."

You growled at him, your sharp teeth bared out at him, but he didn't waver. He just kept looking at you; dead into your eyes.

"Geralt,may the lord's have mercy on my poor soul- where exactly are you?"

Jaskier stepped on a tree branch, crushing it unknowingly, the sound of it following his voice. Geralt muttered a low curse under his breath and he stood up, his hands on either of his hip as he glared at the bard, "I told you to wait by Roach, Jaskier." Jaskier parted his lips, ready to reply but his eyes suddenly caught the sight of you and they widened in fear, watching you slowly struggle to stand up.

"Geralt, why is there a bear behind you? Geralt— "

"that's not a bear," Geralt deadpanned, turned away from you.

"Are you blind? Would you look at that? That is a bear— " He suddenly turned towards you and hissed, "— And it's running away now."

Geralt cursed much louder now, his head turning sharply back. He suddenly began running after you, but you, even in an injured form, were fast and were making a distance already.

"Geralt, why are you running after that bear?" Jaskier shouted, but did not follow him.

Geralt simply shook his head, and muttered, under his breath, more to himself, than to the bard, "that is not a fucking bear."

It felt like a million daggers had been ripped through your flesh. It felt like you didn't have the energy to even open your eyes. Finally, after a lot of effort, your humanly form opened your eyes. The first thing your eyes fell on was the hearth that was warming you up.

And then they moved to your bare feet, that had scratches all over it. Someone had applied a green, now dried up herbal paste to it.

Suddenly, it hit you like ice cold water, and you suddenly remembered it all. How you had tried to fight the striga, and how it had almost killed Geralt.

Geralt.

Your eyes travelled to the shirt that you were wearing, the only fabric that was covering your body. And it didn't take you long to register who it belonged to; owing to the fact that it was too big for your much tinier frame as compared to him.

You buried your hands into your face, embarassment and guilt filling you up. He must have seen you transform, from that bear to this form, which is why you had his clothes on.

"You're awake."

Your eyes lifted, slowly meeting his yellow orbs. He had just entered into the cave, and was holding two logs of freshly cut wood. He knelt down in front of the fire he had made to keep you warm and began placing the logs.

You bit the insides of your cheeks and tried to adjust yourself more comfortably, but the wounds on your chest ached, making you wince. Geralt looked up.

"Don't move. I patched you up."

You blinked, squinting your eyes slightly until you were balling the fabric of his shirt, looking at him.

"You saw everything? Didn't you?"

He stood up, and grunted under his breath, before he made his way to you, and knelt down next to you. His fingers grabbed at the fabric of your shirt, which was clinging to your wound, pulling it away, his eyes fixed against yours, "Who did this to you?"

"No one," you shook your head, and tried to look away, but Geralt's voice snapped you back towards him.

"Yennefer?"

"She didn't mean to. It was an accident," You blurted out.

"I knew," he muttered under his breath, and looked like he was in a thinking.

"I want to go home, Geralt. I'm tired." You began to put the weight on your legs as you tried to get up but pain shot through your body and it made you hiss and fall back again.

"You're hurt, [Y/N]," he rasped, and before you could protest, he was already sliding his thick, veiny hand underneath your thigh, and in one sweep, he had you in his arms.

When Geralt stepped out of the cave, you realized that it was already shining bright outside, and almost half a day was already over. You slid your arm delicately around his neck to hold on to him as he casually, and effortlessly carried you down the rocky terrain. The first few minutes were quiet, and you could feel the Witcher's questions but he didn't ask you.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, you heard him, "How can I lift this curse?" He briefly looked down at you, and you swore you saw a look of gentleness in his eyes as you looked at you.

"We tried everything. There's no way. I'm cursed for life."

His eyebrows twitched, and his nostrils almost flared, in anger. He looked away, forcefully, so that he could concentrate on anywhere but you. Finally, after a minute of giving you a squared jaw, he lowered you on a rock, and turned away from you. Fixing his hands on either of his hips, he turned his back to you, and you could see the scars on his naked back, full displayed to you. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his scars, wanting nothing more than to draw your index finger over each one of it, "Well fuck, I don't buy it. Someone can do something," he barked.

"Well feel free to try, because I've tried and it didn't work!" You yelled back at him.

Suddenly, much to your surprise, the Witcher lowered himself to squat in front of you, his palms fixed on your bare knees, as you only had his shirt on. Before you could understand what was happening, the Witcher grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you into him, his lips slamming against yours. The kiss was passionate, his lips as though in a battle with your lips, struggling, wrestling for control.

At first, you were shocked, but in minute or so, your body relaxed, the knots slowly loosening, as you began melting into the kiss— until Yennefer's face popped into your mind.

You broke the kiss in the midst, and pushed him away, glaring at him, throwing daggers at him with your eyes, "What the fuck, Geralt?"

He just gave you a serious look, as he lifted himself up again and began trying to lift you but you smacked him hard in the chest and he jumped back. You grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to you, "Why did you kiss me?"

He blinked, giving you a look, before he grabbed your arm, and pulled you closer, so you were chest to chest with him, "I wanted to."

"I'm a monster," you whispered back, but you were so close to him, you could feel your heart race, and so could he.

"You saved me." He said, huskily. Slowly, he reached for a loose strand of hair dangling by your side, pushing him behind your ear. After a short, momentary pause, he whispered, against your ear, "be mine."

You could feel tears pool in your eyes, and you didn't dare blink, afraid he will see them. You shook your head at him, trying to act defiant, but inwardly, you were weakening, "You don't want me. I'm cursed, and I'm gonna be cursed all my life."

"And I'm a Witcher, you think this isn't a curse?"

His words threw you off guard; you werent expecting it. Yes, you were aware how people his kind were treated, but atleast he wasnt cursed.

"They still need you, even if they hate you," you whispered, looking down.

"And I don't need you?" Geralt fixed his index finger over your chin and lifted your face up so you were meeting his yellow orbs that had fire lurking through them, "Don't care if you turn into a bear every fucking single night."

He suddenly bent and picked you up once again, bridal style, but this time you didn't protest. Instead, you had a humongous smile drawn to your face. Your whole body hurt, but you didn't care.

Geralt's words rang through your mind, again and again.

be mine.

"One step at a time, Geralt of Rivia," you said to him, and he just smiled to himself, his lips only crinkling lightly but you knew he was smiling even though his eyes didn't match yours this time.

[rocorambles]

Murder of Crows

Pairing: Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Yachi x Reader aka a Karasuno first-year gangbang (Takes place when they’re all third years.)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Rape/Non-con, Degradation 

Summary: You should have trusted your gut when you first felt the wandering eyes and lingering stares, but now it’s too late and you’ll learn first hand what it feels like to be utterly defeated by a murder of crows.

Requested by Anon

You’re not quite sure how exactly you’ve found yourself here in a gym full of sweaty athletes, hauling a basket of ice cold water bottles to the sidelines with your best friend, Yachi, but here you are. With a loud thud, both of you drop the heavy container down and grab the pile of towels just in time for the boys who are quickly approaching you, splattering droplets of sweat everywhere and you crinkle your nose and playfully pretend to gag as they draw near. Tsukishima rolls his eyes at your antics, but he nods his head in thanks as he grabs a clean towel from you. You patiently wait as some other team members relieve you of the pile of fabric in your hands before Yachi and you sit on the bench as Yamaguchi and Coach Ukai order the team to gather around as they discuss practice drills. 

You smile fondly at the way Yamaguchi confidently holds himself as he stands next to Coach Ukai with shoulders squared and a serious, but kind face directed at the rest of the team. To think that the shy Yamaguchi you had met when Yachi had first started helping out the team during your first year would grow to be the respectable captain that he is now. But he’s not the only one who’s gone through drastic changes and you look over the rest of the third-years intently listening to him. Hell, you even turn to briefly look at Yachi and yourself. When you had become friends with Yachi at the beginning of high school you barely knew what volleyball was, let alone thought of managing the team and yet here you both are as third-years, decked out in the black Karasuno warm-up track suit.

Yachi was your first and best friend by far of the group, but you can’t deny that over the last two years you’ve also gotten closer to the rest of the boys in the same year as you. Well, you suppose they technically aren’t boys anymore. A faint smile plays on your lips as you reminisce on all the memories you’ve shared together between study sessions that somehow became just tutoring sessions as you all tried to force information into Hinata and Kageyama’s heads and exhausted nights where all of you slumped in front of Coach Ukai’s store eating meat buns and chatting away until he kicked all of you out and made you go home. But that smile turns downwards when you think about some of the more recent and less positive changes in your friends.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. You know the six of you are exceptionally close, almost weirdly close, but you had just chalked it up to the fact that you all see each other for hours every day between classes, volleyball, and after school and weekend study sessions and hangouts. Yet that doesn’t stop the slight unease from growing inside of you as you observe the increasingly strange behaviors your friends exhibit and it’s only become more...physical...now that you’re all in your third year and officially all adults. 

You had visibly winced when Yachi had first introduced you to Hinata and the orange haired ball of energy had decided to scream a greeting at you, but you couldn’t keep the wide grin from spreading across your face as you got swept up in his enthusiasm. Every moment with him felt like riding an exhilarating roller coaster and maybe that’s why you barely noticed how strange it was that he came knocking on your door almost every single day asking you to come hang out or jog with him, how strange it was that he texted you as soon as you got up, blowing up your phone all day until you went to sleep. You were so caught up in the wild ride that Hinata Shouyou was that you never had the chance to get off and think about how you had even gotten on this ride in the first place and when was the last time you had been able to take a break from it. You were still flipping upside down in loops as you entered your third year and the ride just became more intense as he began wrapping his wiry arms around you at practice, nonchalantly talking to the rest of the team with your body firmly pulled against him and his chin resting on your shoulder. You had shooed him off of you the first few times, but he had turned his huge puppy eyes on you and no one else on the team seemed to care, so you just went along with it. 

Kageyama took a little more time to warm up to you, but you didn’t take it personally knowing how reserved he was. However, over time and after a particularly long study session you had personally sat with him through, he had left a carton of his favorite milk on your desk and you had beamed at the innocent object. He started hovering around you more after that. The two of you never really spoke much, but you enjoyed the peaceful and comfortable quiet that surrounded both of you and yet, despite his silence, you noticed that he spoke loudly through his actions. You were beyond shocked the first time you had sat down to lunch with him, ready to dig into your food, when he had frowned at your bento, taken it from you, and removed some of your rice while adding more meat and vegetables without saying a single word to you. Mouth still open in disbelief, you had pierced him with a questioning look only to receive a muttered reply about making sure you were eating a balanced diet. Your heart had fluttered at the endearing reasoning, but it had become a bit strange later on when he would hand feed you, practically shoving a stalk of broccoli or a piece of chicken in your mouth even at times that you said you were too full to eat anymore. But that just meant Kageyama cared for you, right? You know the boy’s terrible when it comes to social interactions, so you shrug it off.

Yamaguchi has arguably gone through the most dramatic personality change since you had first met him and you’re so proud of the confident leader he’s become. But even in your second year with him, you had sworn that sometimes there was a hint of something...darker, hungry...something lurking underneath his shy facade that made you shiver in fear. But every time you tried to take a closer look it disappeared only to be replaced with a soft gaze. And now that he’s fully grown into himself, he’s become more physical with everyone, casually slinging his arms around everyone’s shoulders and backs in a comforting, friendly manner as he rallies up team morale. But you can almost swear that when he slings an arm around you in thanks or in greeting, his arm gets progressively lower to the point that you almost recoil from him when you feel his hand brush against the hem of your skirt. But he’s always quick to move away from you and you wonder if all of it is just your imagination or an accident on his part. 

You're briefly distracted from your thoughts as loud shouting fills the gym and your eyes are drawn to Tsukishima’s figure as it leaps through the air and blocks a spiked ball. Honestly, you’re surprised you’re even friends with him, let alone close friends. He had been nice enough to not insult you like he did with the rest of the boys, but on the other hand, he rarely spoke even a word to you or acknowledged your presence. But as you hung out with the group more, you noticed the tall shadow that seemed to always walk beside you between classes, to the cafeteria, and back home. And he’d only grown bolder in your last year, wrapping a large hand around your wrist and forcefully dragging you with him when the both of you were running late for volleyball practice. You were so caught up in keeping up with his long strides and complaining loudly about his tight grip on you that you didn’t notice the terrifying glares he shot at any male who even looked at you as the two of you walked through the school halls.  

And finally, Yachi, your sweet and adorable best friend. The two of you had hit it off right away as soon as you met each other and it was like you were connected at the hip ever since. You can’t even keep track of the amount of sleepovers, weekend trips, day trips, girl talks, and everything else you’ve done together. But you had found it a little weird when she had slept over for the first time after both of you had officially turned eighteen and insisted on sleeping in the same futon as you. Assuming she was just feeling a bit lonely and nostalgic, you let her slip under the covers with you and drifted off to sleep, unaware of the hand wandering across your resting figure. After that night, she kept on finding her way into your futon and it soon just became the norm for the both of you and you grew accustomed to falling asleep with her body heat next to yours, your dreams suddenly full of feather light touches. 

Yes, they’ve all definitely changed since you first met them all, but they’re still your closest friends despite all their new quirks, and perhaps it’s just the natural transition of entering adulthood that’s affected them. People change. You aren’t kids anymore. Of course they’d be different now. But that conviction struggles to stick in your mind when you’re stuck in the gym alone with all of them after practice every day. Yamaguchi’s always quick to dismiss the first and second years the minute practice is done and he politely assures the coaches that you all would be fine cleaning up the equipment and locking the gym up as he bids them good night. It becomes normal for the six of you to take down the nets and round up all the volleyballs and yet your hackles rise as you swear you can feel multiple pairs of eyes intensely staring at you as you bend over to pick up stray balls. You swear you feel a hand drag and linger across your ass as someone helps you lower the net. You swear it almost feels like they want to devour you as they linger a moment too long in the doorway of the equipment room, not immediately letting you pass when you try to exit. But you have no proof and the moments happen so fast that you wonder if you’re just becoming more paranoid for no reason. 

You really should have trusted your gut. 

There’s an excited buzz in the air as the team hops off of the bus and intermingles with the Tokyo teams. It’s the first training camp of the year and everyone’s busy catching up with old friends and meeting new people. You struggle to lift a bag of equipment and almost drop it when a hand reaches out and catches it before it hits the ground. Stunned by the surprising interaction, you quickly whip around and smile when you see Inuoka beaming down at you. The two of you hug and he walks with you to the dorm rooms, helping you carry everything as both of you catch up, unaware of the many pairs of eyes darkly staring at your backs.

Karasuno has always been close to Nekoma and that hasn’t changed over the years, so when the teams aren’t practicing, you happily joke around with the Nekoma third-years, laughing at Lev’s stupid shenanigans and conversing with Inuoka and Shibayama. A part of you feels guilty for not spending more time with your own team, but it’s so rare that you get an ample amount of time with your Nekoma friends and you brush the feeling off. Surely your friends would understand. But the narrowed eyes, clenched fists, and tight jaws across the room are hardly understanding as they lock in on the sight of Lev excitedly grabbing your hands as he asks you something, the sight of Inuoka resting his hand on your shoulder as he talks, the sight of Shibayama’s eyes lingering a bit too long on your face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

The week flies by and all too soon it’s the last night of camp and you horse around with the Nekoma boys, loudly shouting and fooling around well past curfew. But you know the coaches are turning a blind eye to any mischief tonight, letting you all do as you want as a thank you for all your hard work and dedication. Inuoka and Shibayama are cheering you on as you have Lev in a headlock, but all of a sudden your phone vibrates and you reluctantly release the lanky giant before opening up the unread text.

From Yachi: Come hang out with the rest of the third-years and me! It’s probably going to be our last training camp all together so we want to make some new memories together. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart when you read her message and you immediately rise and say goodbye to the rowdy boys before rushing off to your own team. The Karasuno third-year boys had managed to secure their own dorm room and you excitedly open the door only to yelp as a hand grabs you by the collar of your shirt and you vaguely register the sound of the door slamming shut as you’re shoved to the ground and adjusted until you’re on all fours. You try to shove off the hands that are tearing off your clothes, but tired of your flailing, Tsukishima wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes and squeezes until you stop you’re struggling, choosing instead to wheeze and claw at the arm restricting your air flow and only when you’re completely naked with Kageyama pressed tightly behind you, holding your waist in a bruising grip, does he let go.

You gasp for breath as you stare up at the blonde with teary eyes. “Why are you guys doing this?” You pray that it’s all a terrible joke, just a prank gone out of hand, but you flinch as Tsukishima sneers down at you. 

“What? Upset that we aren’t your Nekoma boyfriends instead? Tell me, if we hadn’t asked you to come here, would you be letting them fuck you all night long? Of course you would, you fucking slut. You have four cocks and a pussy literally just waiting for you to say the word and they’d be all yours, but no, you just had to go off and be a little whore, letting those fucking cats put their paws all over you instead. We don’t share. You’re ours, do you understand?” 

Tsukishima smirks at the fear in your eyes. “Well, even if you your stupid little bimbo brain can’t understand that now, it’ll be engrained in your mind and body after we’re all through with you tonight. Open your mouth.” You try to twist your face away as he lowers his pants, letting his cock spring out and hit your face, but his hand threateningly hovers over your throat once more and you obediently take him into your mouth. He’s so long and you begin to gag with only half of him inside of you. With an irritated sigh, he painfully grabs you by the roots of your hair and forcefully shoves the rest of his length down your throat and you try to scream around the object stretching your jaw, but you’re muffled as he starts pistoning his hips in and out of your wet cavern and tears stream down your face as your throat burns from the abuse. You’re so distracted by the struggle of trying to breathe that you don’t even notice the movement behind you until you feel something hard nudging past your entrance and shame washes over you at Kageyama’s words. 

“She’s already so wet.” You clench your eyes shut as Tsukishima laughs and only ruts into your mouth faster. “God, you’re pretending to cry and hate it, but you love this, don’t you? You love being fucked from both ends. You’re such a fucking cock slut.” He emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust and your eyes roll back as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time that Kageyama bottoms out into you. You’re so full and you swear your jaw might unhinge itself from trying to accommodate Tsukishima’s cock and yet you can’t help the way your hips start rocking back to meet Kageyama’s thrusts as he takes his time sliding in and out of you at a languid pace, relishing the feeling of your tight walls clenching and sliding across every inch of his shaft. 

You shake your head as much as you can with Tsukishima’s fingers still tightly interwoven in your locks, trying to deny the degrading accusations Tsukishima relentlessly spits at you, but you can’t help the moan that escapes you as Tsukishima curses and pulls out, hurriedly giving himself a few more strokes before painting your face with thick white streaks. Your cunt unconsciously clenches from the humiliation of being so lewdly marked and Kageyama hisses before increasing his pace and you collapse to your elbows as Kageyama desperately chases his end while Tsukishima crouches in front of you, reaching around to play with your clit. And despite the horribleness of the entire situation, you can’t help but fall apart and your quivering walls are all it takes for Kageyama to release deep inside of you.

Kageyama has enough foresight to at least gently lower you down to the floor after he pulls out of you and you lay there on the hard surface, wishing it would just swallow you whole and take you anywhere from here. But of course that doesn’t happen and you weakly sob when you hear Yamaguchi’s soft, but commanding voice ordering you to kneel in front of him. You raise yourself up on shaky arms and move to stand up, but Tsukishima’s hand keeps you down. “Crawl like the bitch that you are.” You tremble from emotional and physical exhaustion as you make your way towards the captain, placing one hand and foot in front of the other, and you cringe at the feeling of Kageyama’s cum beginning to trickle down your inner thigh, but soon enough you’re in between his thighs as he sits on a chair above you. 

His cock is already out and even though he’s not as big as Tsukishima, your mouth still goes dry at the thought of trying to take him in your still aching mouth. You begin to lick him, taking in just his tip and swirling your tongue around him before delicately licking down his entire length, anything to buy you some time before you need to use your mouth again, but you push off of him with a scream, your hands tightly clutching his thighs as Hinata slides underneath your spread legs and licks a long stripe across your pussy. Yamaguchi is patient with you, enjoying the way drool begins to leak out the sides of your mouth as you moan from Hinata’s enthusiastic licks, but his cock twitches at a high pitched whine that exits your throat and he places a hand on your head and firmly pushes you back down to his leaking cock. 

You’re sloppy, unable to fully control your mouth as you moan and drool while Hinata’s tongue pushes inside of you, tasting every inch of you. But the sight of you slobbering all over his cock and the debauched mess of it all only makes it feel better for Yamaguchi and he can’t help the way his hips buck up into you when he finally finishes and he hungrily drinks in the sight of your throat swallowing every drop of him. Your thighs begin to clench and your body is taut as you can feel another climax quickly approaching and when Yamaguchi casually twists and pulls your nipples with his fingers, your back sharply arches as you open your mouth in a silent scream. You stay in that shape for a few seconds until the pleasure begins to ebb away and you try to move away, but Hinata’s arms wrap around you, holding you in place, and you wail as he earnestly continues lapping and sucking at every inch of your drenched pussy that he can reach. Your upper body collapses into Yamaguchi’s lap as he tenderly strokes your hair and it feels like ages before Hinata finally reliquinches his grip on you and moves out from under you. 

You shakily whimper as Yamaguchi soothingly whispers into your ear about what a good slut you are, how beautiful you look when you’re falling apart because of them, but you have no energy to push yourself away from him and you lay there, with your face in between his thighs and your arms splayed over his legs. You can feel your eyelids fluttering shut and just when you think you’ll at least be able to escape into the shelter of your own unconsciousness, strong hands pull you off of Yamaguchi and lay you flat on your back. It’s not comfortable, but you’re at least glad to finally relieve your knees which you’re sure will be black and blue tomorrow. But any small consolation you felt instantly dissipates when you see Hinata hovering over you and you don’t even have a second to understand what’s happening before he shoves his entire length into you in one swift motion. 

After being stretched out by Kageyama and thoroughly lubricated with the sticky mix of your own juices and the setter’s cum, Hinata easily slides in and there’s no pain as he fills you, but this new position means there’s nowhere for you to hide your face from the predatory eyes staring down at you and the humiliation is so much worse as you’re fully aware of Hinata intently staring at your slutty fucked out expression as he continuously rams in and out of you. Your eyes are so far back in your head that it’s hard to clearly see and maybe that’s why you don’t notice the growing shadow covering your face until it’s too late and your nose and mouth are covered by a musky warm scent. Sex. It smells like sex. You rapidly blink the pleasure from your eyes as you try to focus your vision, but you wish you hadn’t when the image of Yachi’s small breasts bouncing above you as she rides your face sears itself into your brain. You try to close your mouth as tightly as you can, refusing to service the woman above you, but it’s so hard to breathe with her pussy covering the bottom half of your face and accidental moans are forced from you as Hinata continues railing into you, which only cause Yachi to grind and moan more as the vibrations from your mouth stimulate her slick heat. 

Later you’ll try and convince yourself that it was just survival instinct, just you trying to do what you needed to do to breathe, to have everything be over and that you aren’t eagerly drinking Yachi’s essence that never seems to stop flowing on your face as your lips and tongue explore every inch of her more intimately than you’d ever dreamed of doing. You’ll deny you felt any pleasure despite the wanton moans you can’t stop releasing and the powerful orgasm that wracks through your body as Hinata’s cum mixes with the mess between your legs and as Yachi’s hips stutter as she smears her release all over your face. But for now you lay there, in a pool of your own liquids and the fluids of the five people towering over your limp and used body, drowning in the dangerously intoxicating pleasure they’ve submerged you in. 

A tiny screeching voice inside of your head tells you to get up, get away and despite the dazed state you’re in, your hands attempt to push you up and it feels like you’re stuck in molasses as you excruciatingly slowly push yourself up into a sitting position and it takes everything left inside of you to feebly move your legs as you attempt to rise. But just when you almost have your feet underneath you, something is pressed against your chest and you’re pushed back down and you whimper at the heavy embarrassing weight of the foot squarely planted in the middle of your chest, stepping on you, keeping you down. Tsukishima’s never looked taller as he leers down at you.

“That’s cute. Did you really think we’d let you just get up and walk away from us? We’re nowhere near done with you. We’re not stopping until we literally fuck you to sleep and make sure that your body is so worn out that we know you’ll be safe and sound in your own futon tonight and not sneaking off to whore yourself out to anyone else.” 

And if you’ve learned anything from managing this team, it’s that they’re relentless in the pursuit of their goals and for the first time since you’ve managed them, you feel a pang of pity for the teams they’ve crushed and destroyed, wondering if this is how all their opponents feel as the five of them pounce on you with the intent of thoroughly dominating and conquering you.