#she is still so so so painfully human at the end of the day

[ananxiousgenz]

face down slamming my fist against the table what do you MEAN clementine's lover was an alchemist and she gave him gold and made him live forever????? what do you MEAN she had no memory of who she was or where she came from but still made his goals her goals and used her cosmic powers to fulfill them????? HUH?????????

[sttoru]

Omg could we see reader getting jealous of Sukuna having sec with his other concubines? And maybe liek the other concubine rubs it in readers face?

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (no comfort), suggestive \\ smut aspects. size difference. one tiny mention of reader being a crybaby. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’ \\ kuna’s an asshole! not proofread, excuse the grammar. no part 2. wc: 3.3k

you’ve been away from the estate for three days; three days too long for the king of curses. so much had happened while you were away to take some well deserved rest—a small vacation that sukuna had granted you because you needed it.

perhaps that was his first mistake. giving you permission to leave his side ended up being a bad decision. he hates that faint feeling in his chest, the feeling of missing something.

missing someone.

it couldn’t be. sukuna doesn’t have any weaknesses, and yet he can feel his body reacting to that unfamiliar emotion again. all because of you— that one human who always succeeds to occupy his mind.

he couldn’t let himself succumb to it—he’s not going to. sukuna is not going to let a mere human like you deter him from his superior identity that he’s had for decennia. he’s not going to let you have that power over him and his body.

and thus, when you return to the estate, you find yourself being laughed at. you were unpacking your luggage when two concubines stand at your doorway, hiding their evil smiles behind their handheld fans.

they don’t waste a single second and immediately rush to ruin your carefree mood.

“you know, you shouldn’t have returned at all,” the brunette giggles, her laugh sounding like nails scraping against a chalkboard. she looks to the other woman next to her before glancing back at you, “i mean—heh—lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence.”

you figure it’s just another way to get you riled up, so you do your best to ignore them. you put your packed kimonos in your wardrobe as your back faces the two.

yumi, the second concubine, nods along. she knows what she’s about to reveal will get on your nerves. and deserved, if you ask her. they had successfully caught the attention of their king while you were away. for the first time in a good while since your arrival in the estate.

the fact that they managed to spend quality time with sukuna again, is a wonderful first step to your downfall. one that will surely crumble your confidence as his so-called ‘favorite’.

“mhm,” yumi grins as she recalls the memories of her time with sukuna. time spent together that you were unaware of, “lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence when he had me in his bed last night.”

you freeze.

your brows furrow and the corners of your lips twitch. you don’t know if you should believe them—they could’ve lied about it for all you know. although, the voice in the back of your head had already rang the alarms.

guessing by the way they were dying to talk to you the second you came back - which never happens - you realise that they’re probably telling the truth. they’re only telling the truth to agitate you. it’s so painfully obvious, and yet so. . . hurtful.

“what?”

you don’t recall when you’ve choked up. you feel a lump in your throat. it shouldn’t even be there. you promised yourself to not get attached to a monster like sukuna.

so what if he went to bed with his other concubines?

but of course he’ll get pleasure from his other women when you aren’t around. he doesn’t feel any love, he sees it as worthless, so why did you expect him to not indulge himself? he still has his other concubines around for a reason.

you really shouldn’t be surprised by this revelation.

“what do you mean ‘what?’ - you heard me,” yumi shrugs, that cocky smirk still on her face. she’s clearly enjoying your reaction to everything she’s revealing. all the two concubines wanted to get out of this encounter with you, is to break that delusion of yours.

the delusional thought that you’re special to the king of curses—the delusion that sukuna considers you as something more than a toy to emotionally manipulate and play with until he’s tired of you.

“my lord spent all night with me in his chambers until the sun rose,” yumi continues without an ounce of shame. she bites her lip as she remembers the way sukuna had her body positioned on his large bed. for her, it was a dream come true.

though for you, it’s a living nightmare. even if you try to deny the fact that it physically and mentally hurts. there’s a painful twist at your heart—reminding you of the truth.

the truth being that you had truly thought that sukuna wasn’t really a monster of a man. you thought he was a different, more softer person around you.

you should’ve listened to the servants when they told you to not get tricked by sukuna’s special treatment, that he could easily manipulate you and make you do and act as he pleases.

“do you want me to explain it in detail?” yumi crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at you with a menacing glare. both of the concubines are loving that face you’re making. that face of defeat that you’re attempting to hide from them, “how he held me and pleasured me until i—”

“enough,” you cut them off with your hands clenched into fists. you don’t want to hear another word. you’re already feeling awful; already, not even an hour into your return. you can never catch a break.

you have an urge to throw things around. you already feel stupid, and if you decide to throw a fit, you bet that you’d feel even dumber. you truly do not know why you’re getting this worked up about it.

maybe it’s because of the special treatment. the delusional thoughts you have about your relationship with sukuna. you really thought that you two had something special. an unofficial romantic relationship, perhaps, or something that resembles it.

a secret, unspoken deal where you’re promised his loyalty in exchange for your body and soul.

although, those dreams have been shattered this very instance. you’re once again reminded of the animalistic nature of the being called ryomen sukuna.

he told you clearly that he’d never tie himself to someone, a human no less. devotion to one person? why would he.

“out of the way.”

you push the brunette and her sidekick the other way. you’re going to confront the man yourself. or at least, you’ll try to. you can hear their sick laughs and chuckles fade into the background as you stomp your way towards sukuna’s chambers.

the other concubines seem to have gotten the gist. some peek their heads out of their rooms, grinning at you in victory. seeing your confidence slowly crumble and the realisation kick in - the realisation that your dear lord’s special treatment means absolutely nothing - is a sight for sore eyes to them.

you enter sukuna’s room and close the heavy doors behind you. you swallow the lump down your throat and try your best to look presentable.

no tears, you promise yourself. you’re not going to waste them on something like this.

“oh, it’s you, little one,” the familiar voice calls out. sukuna’s low and husky voice rings from his bed. he’s laid back against the many silky pillows, blowing smoke from his kiseru. he lays there like he doesn’t care about your reappearance at all.

he eyes you up and down, “how was your vacation, hm?”

sukuna asks like it’s the most normal thing to do. it seems like he’s trying to catch up with you, to ask you how you’ve been enjoying your time alone, though it also seems like he couldn’t care less at the same time.

“just absolutely fine, my lord,” you reply with gritted teeth and an obvious hint of sarcasm. there’s also a bitterness to your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by the pink-haired man. he frowns—this cold greeting is not what he expected nor what he wanted to hear from your mouth. he expected you to at least smile at him like you usually do, but you didn’t.

on top of that, you seemed to be annoyed with him. that unexpected attitude of yours made something inside of him snap. it irritated him somehow; the fact that you’re so comfortable talking to him like that . . . it reminded him of the recent inner conflict he had which you were the cause of.

one of his hands tightens into a fist at his side. his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into slits. you’re physically in front of him, which means that he’s also about to experience those complicated feelings again. the same ones he tried fleeing from by letting you go on a break, and by physically taking his mind off you.

he did the latter by taking his frustrations out on his other women. the stress that came with the thought of him possibly liking a human, relieved by pure animalistic sex.

that’s exactly what you’re upset about.

there’s an urge inside of sukuna to act normal. to ignore those difficult emotions and just treat you like he usually does. yet, another part of him is trying to protect his sense of superiority by trying to push you away.

there’s a war going on in his mind as he tries to calm himself down. you’ve always had this effect on him and it’s becoming unbearable. he has to show you, no - remind you, that you’re nothing to him. you mean nothing—nothing at all.

he’s the king of curses, you’re but a human. he’ll need to remind himself of that obvious statement as well. he’s got all the power in this situation. not you.

you cannot rule over him or his mind.

“you dare come back with an attitude? tch,” sukuna scoffs, nearly breaking the kiseru with his fingers as they squeeze around the solid material. he’s turning off whatever emotion present in his body. that doesn’t belong there anyway. he won’t care if you cry—he won’t care at all.

you notice the sudden change in sukuna’s tone as well. you’re sure you’re the reason for it. perhaps you crossed a boundary with how sassily you replied to him when he was simply asking you how your vacation went.

“my apologies,” you murmur with a sigh. you try to avoid getting on sukuna’s nerves any further, yet when you remember the words from the concubine, how she implied that sukuna had given her the best night of her life when you were away, you get mad again.

your eyes have a fiery look in them. you don’t want to get worked up. you don’t have the right to. you were warned from the very beginning to not get attached to an asshole like ryomen sukuna.

you’re to blame for feeling like this. it could’ve been prevented if you just weren’t so weak. if you just stayed away from him.

“did you have fun while i was away, my lord?” you continue, your voice shaking a little. you need the confirmation. you’re sure sukuna knows what you’re referring to by now, especially because of the way you’re acting out of character.

the king of curses raises a brow at your question. you sound even angrier, even more pissed off. he tilts his head after taking a deep inhale of the tobacco from his kiseru. he tries to figure out what you’re hinting at, “what are you—”

and that’s when everything fell into place. the dots connect.

sukuna’s jaw clenches. he realises that you’ve found out about him receiving services from his other concubines while you were away. there could be no other explanation behind your sudden attitude. besides, he knows how his other concubines could be. they must have told you the moment you came back.

normally, he’d say that it’s none of your business. what he does is up to him—he does not care about the consequences of his actions. though, seeing the slight hurt in your eyes, mixed with sadness and disappointment stirred something inside of him. he brushes that feeling away and stares at you intently, awaiting another comment. perhaps you’d cuss him out or bawl your eyes out in front of him.

either way, he promises himself that he won’t care.

sukuna is the king of curses. feeling bad for a human like you would only further tarnish his image, that image of superiority and power he has.

he’s a man of many needs. you should’ve kept that in mind when you left him. he wanted to keep you with him—to hold you down and refuse to let you leave—but that would be another sign of weakness. one sukuna could not manage to show.

when you departed, he was irritated by the fact that he had no one to turn to with his needs. from simple needs like wanting your company to sexual needs like craving your body.

keeping you by his side or letting you go; both decisions seem to clash. either way, there’s one thing he’s sure of, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it: he missed you.

sukuna can’t believe that he can feel an emotion like that. he can’t accept that fact. that’s why his irrational mind took over—his dark urges that strived to prove himself to still be the same old ryomen sukuna. the monster that did not need a single soul. the ruthless man that did not depend on anyone else, especially not a human. a woman like you.

he thought he’d forget all about you if he’s surrounded himself with other women. but, he was quick to be proven wrong, and that only caused to enrage him more and more.

every time sukuna fucked a concubine, his thoughts still manage to drift away to you. to how he wished that it was you he was holding.

nothing hit the same with the other women and that frustrated him. he’d keep them around in his room after he fucked their brains out, something he never allowed a woman to do except for you, yet kicked them out again after a few minutes.

it doesn’t hit the same.

you’re just different. your presence is soothing and calming to the chaotic soul of the pink-haired man. no one else could compare. that realisation made him feel inferior; a feeling he loathes.

sukuna’s red eyes glow. he hates seeing you look so defeated, but he cannot give in. if he tells you the truth, he’ll admit his weakness. he’ll admit that a human like you has completely taken over his brain. that’s no good.

if he doesn’t tell you the truth, he’ll save face. he’ll feel like himself again. his old self—the cold ruthless monster that he was before he met you. one without a soft spot for a human.

it’s an active dilemma that’s running through his mind as he slowly blows out another cloud of smoke. you cannot guess what’s going on behind those intimidating eyes staring you down.

sukuna tilts his head back and scratches his neck, smacking his lips as he makes his decision.

“yeah, i did. i had lots of fun.”

the words sting. they hurt you and make your heart ache in a way that makes you physically weak. you should’ve expected that answer. your shoulders tense up and your fingers curl around the material of your kimono—feeling a sense of anger and betrayal.

you can see a ghost of a smirk on sukuna’s lips, which only reminds you of his nature. his nature as an independent, aloof and cold man who likes to play with his prey. a natural disaster that knows no emotion, that shows no mercy to anyone.

you’re naive for thinking that you could be the exception. all of those times with sukuna were confirmed to be but a lie in that moment. as your gazes meet, you can now easily interpret what that look in those red eyes meant.

‘know your place,’

that’s what it means. you’re foolish, dumb. you take a deep breath to compose yourself after you’ve been made out to be a total fool. you should’ve listened to those warnings, you should’ve known that you were getting played.

this is exactly what sukuna desired to achieve. to build up your trust, to make you comfortable enough with him, to think you’re special and that he won’t need any other woman other than you — just to shatter your pathetic delusions when the time comes.

“tsk tsk. no need to look at me like that,” sukuna scoffs, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. he can hear a small voice in the back of his head telling him to shut up and let you go, to not make it worse, but who is he to listen to that irrelevant thought? he can decide for himself.

“y’ weren’t around, so the other concubines simply did their job by serving me,” he stares the other way, seemingly not interested by your presence anymore. his face is as expressionless as ever, “what do y’ think i keep them ‘round for, brat? for decoration purposes? hah, nah.”

another loud mocking laugh makes you nearly burst out in tears. you don’t know if it’s in anger or sadness. you take a deep, shaky breath for the last time. you unclench your fists and nod, accepting the reality check you’d just gotten.

it’s a slap to the face, but it helped you get out of your delusions. the delusions that sukuna is a man capable of loving someone, even if it is just for a tiny bit. this visit confirmed that there’s not an ounce of love or appreciation in that man’s body.

“i’m glad you had fun, my lord,” you answer after a bit of silence. you bow at sukuna in an attempt to stay polite while struggling with that inner turmoil. you don’t even glance up at him anymore. you need another break already.

sukuna isn’t dumb. you may think that you’re good at hiding your emotions, but you’re not. at least not around the king of curses. he’s spent enough time around you to realise that you’re going through a lot right now.

he’s the reason for it, yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of empathy. he just looks at you with a blank stare, thinking that this is for the best.

“good night then,” you add and turn around to walk out of sukuna’s room. your steps are slow as you secretly hope to be called back, like sukuna would do every time you’d leave his room after an intimate night. you just want him to tell you that this was a test of some sort—a cruel joke.

you want to feel like his favorite again. you don’t want to be thrown away like this. you don’t want to be on the same level as all the other concubines. you want to stand out to him.

unfortunately, you don’t hear sukuna’s voice anymore. he lets you walk away without a care in the world. the heavy doors of his chambers close behind you and you feel your knees buckle. “fuck,” you cuss to yourself and clench your chest.

you lean back against the closed doors and try to regain your composure. crying can be done when you’re in your room—not in the hallway where anyone could catch you. you don’t want to give the other concubines more reason to bully you.

you drag your feet across the wooden flooring. all those times with sukuna, all those slight glimpses of his soft side that only you’re allowed to see— all of that is thrown into the trash.

you really shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him on an emotional level.

meanwhile, sukuna is silently sitting on his bed, thinking back to what just happened. he usually never doubts his decisions, but this is an exception. why couldn’t he just tell you the truth?

his mouth had moved before he could let his mind process all that he was feeling. a small part of him regrets it, though strangely, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy for your situation.

sukuna drapes an arm over his eyes, clicking his tongue at himself. he just wants to let the situation go, though his brain isn’t letting him to. the image of you standing at the edge of his bed, clearly hurt by his actions, flashes through his mind again.

he sighs. he’s sure that he’s going to forget about you soon enough. he needed an excuse to get rid of you for the sake of regaining control over his own being and he took the chance. he should be glad that he did—it meant that he’d be his usual self—with no weaknesses to look out for.

sukuna blows out another cloud of smoke through his mouth. as much as he’s proud of himself for not giving in to you, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander again. you’re probably crying in your room. he knows you’re sensitive. you would always cry about the smallest of things and he’d hold you (feigning reluctance) until you’ve calmed down.

he can’t do that now.

well, he can, but he won’t. sukuna has made his decision today: it’s power and status over you. that’s what it’s always been. you were but a toy he used to get a stronger grip on himself.

perhaps he simply is what people make him out to be; a monster. nothing more, nothing less.

[tender-rosiey]

Hey you lovely human :) Just dropped in to say I bumped into blog like yesterday and since then I ATE (almost) everything Gojo related (still have a couple left), like I genuinely am in LOVE with everything. If you are ever willing to take upon this idea, I was curious about how you see Gojo meeting his significant other and falling in love ? Would love to see the beginning of their relationship and how they ended up together. Thank you and since is already weekend here for me almost - i hope you have a gorgeous weekend!! ^^

creepy eyes — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: AHHH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OMG TYYYYY and i am so sorry that i took so long </3 ANYWAY this is how I imagine gojo first meeting his wife cause i believe that it has to be before gojo closed off and that she became a trusted and close friend of his

it’s just another afternoon at jujutsu high, the sun bathing the grounds in a soft glow, casting long shadows as students hurry from class to class.

you’re deep in thought, focused on training, when you suddenly collide with something solid—or rather, someone.

you stumble back a step, blinking up at the towering figure now standing before you. you glance up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of eyes—bright, intense, and painfully blue.

the boy is about to say something, but you beat him.

“my god, your eyes are creepy,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

there’s a beat of stunned silence.

the giant’s mouth drops open slightly, his eyebrows raise in sheer disbelief as if you’ve just insulted the most precious thing in the world to him.

“my eyes?!” he gasps, hand flying dramatically to his chest. “you think my eyes are creepy?”

you nod, grimacing at the loud sound, “yeah, they're unnerving. kind of like staring into a bottomless pit.”

satoru is scandalized. “my eyes are beautiful!” his voice pitches higher, as if stating a fact that should be universally accepted.

he tilts his head closer to you and taking his glasses off, daring you to look again. “take another look! appreciate them!”

you squint, unimpressed, and simply shrug, brushing past him, “I’ll pass.”

that’s the beginning.

days turn into weeks, and the more you try to forget about that initial encounter, the more satoru won’t let you. every time you cross paths, it’s like he has a personal mission to make you take back that one insult.

whether it’s during training, at lunch, or in the hallway, satoru somehow finds a way to bring it up.

“you still don’t think my eyes are nice?” he asks, exaggeratedly crestfallen, peering at you with that playful gleam.

“yeah, still creepy.”

“but why?” he exclaims, leaning against the doorframe or sitting next to you with a theatrical sigh. “do you not see the sparkle? the beauty? the endless charm?”

it becomes such a regular thing that even suguru can’t help but get involved. he appears at satoru’s side, casually rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, though a smirk plays on his lips.

“you’re still on about that?” geto quips. “maybe just accept that she has good taste, satoru.”

“oh, shut up, suguru! she’s just blind to my perfection!” satoru retorts, crossing his arms as he watches you chat away with shoko.

and so it goes. satoru’s relentless teasing—half playful, half desperate—starts weaving into the fabric of your days.

every time you think he’ll finally let it go, he’s right there, flashing that expectant grin as if waiting for you to finally give in.

months pass. the seasons start to shift, but satoru's persistence doesn’t.

he keeps bugging you about it—less often than before, but every once in a while, he'll find an opportunity.

whether it's during class or during a mission, he brings it up with that same confident, teasing smile.

it’s a lazy afternoon when it happens.

you’re outside, lounging against a tree in the sun with a book in hand, trying to relax after a mission when satoru flops down beside you, elbow nudging yours.

his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he grins at you. “still think they’re creepy?”

you don’t even look up from your book. “yup.”

he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, giving you that pout again. “come on, you’re just being mean at this point.”

you stifle a laugh, flipping a page. “am I?”

satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, “you’re impossible, you know that? these eyes are a national treasure.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips this time. it makes satoru blink, clearly caught off guard by the sound.

he tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he leans closer to your face. “wait… was that a real laugh? are you finally admitting I’m funny?”

you roll your eyes, looking away from him as you smile. “don’t push your luck.”

he grins widens at the sight of your smile, and he is about to boast of his achievement when you glance at him. with amusement still tugging at your lips, you reach out and push his sunglasses up with a playful tap.

“fine, fine,” you relent, voice teasing as you give him a small grin,“I think your eyes are very pretty.”

for once, satoru’s the one caught off guard.

he blinks rapidly, a flash of surprise flickering across his face as he pulls himself away and tries process your words.

your smile doesn’t falter, but satoru’s eyebrows furrow, before he chirps, standing up, “well—it’s about time you admitted that!”

your eyes widen, as he gets loud and starts ranting about his beauty, “it is only natural that you succumb to my charms! ahaha! my eyes are only one part of it!”

confused but having nothing to say, you lean back against the bark. you don’t mention out loud that his ears are tinted pink, not that satoru would give you the chance to call him out.

but you both know that something has changed.

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[ozzgin]

I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..

How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..

(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)

(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)

Yandere! Vampire x Reader

Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom

[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"

From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.

Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.

"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"

Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.

There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.

Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.

To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.

Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.

"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."

[bunny-1111]

Beg for it - Theodore Nott

Description: Before break, you had trouble with Theodore. On the train ride back to Hogwarts, he reminds you of the consequences of your actions.

Word count: 1.5k

...

You had gone all summer break without taking to Theo.

All summer long.

It was out of pettiness, of course. A small little argument turned into a blowout fight right before getting off the train to return home for the holidays.

You stared at your parchment all day, every day. You even picked up your quill one day, watched the ink drop onto the paper, then dropped it, pride having got the better of you.

Pride got the best of Theodore too.

Who the fuck were you to do this, ruin his summer and not write a dot to him, he thought; stubbornness mets human form in Theodore Nott; he would not accept defeat in reaching out first.

So that was that. Nothingness for two full months.

As you made your way to the platform, you thought the silent treatment would reach its end. Scarcely looking around for your boyfriend, you realise you're so nervous, you don't know if you could get a word out if you tried.

Pushing your trolley you look up, in his mighty form, Theodore Nott, body leaning onto the brick, casually talking to Matteo and Pansy.

You felt your heart drop. What do you say now, hey stranger? Miss me? I'm sorry. No. Dumb, dumber, dumbest.

So you just stood there, hand on your trolley, heart beating out of your chest by the second.

Your daze broke when you heard Pansy call out to you.

"There she is!!" she called out, gesturing you to join them.

You tried to approach, really you did, except your legs failed you. You couldn't move for a few seconds, or was it a minute? You didn't know.

"What's wrong, come-er" Mattheo yelled towards you, eyebrows furrowed

You finally made your way to them, Theodore looking at the ground.

When you got there, he was quick to leave, stomping on his cigarette and boarding the train. So this is how it would go, still not talking, got it.

Matteo quicky greeted you, then followed your boy.

"What's up his ass?" Pansy questioned, pulling you into a hug.

"I couldn't tell you" you huffed

"What's up your ass?" she questioned

"Theodore" you rolled your eyes

"Did yous fight during the break" she asked linking her arm with yours, as you start to walk towards the train

You stop and turn to her "We haven't spoken since the last day of school" you admit

her eyes widen "did you break up?!"

"that would require a conversation" you laughed self pity laced in your expression

"you wouldn't have mentioned that in one of your letters?" she says

"I didn't want to think about it, I'm sorry" you reply

"what are you going to do?" she almost laughed

"I don't know, I was hoping you'd figure it out for me" you say faking a cry

she threw her head back in laughter "Oh no, no, this is a you problem"

You groaned back, searching for the carriage the boys secured.

As you reached the door, you looked at the seating arrangement. You could sit next to Draco, wedge yourself between Blaise and Enzo, or sit in the open seat next to Theo.

Next to Draco was the most rational decision you thought: taking a seat. Until Pansy had other plans. " Get up; I'm sitting there," she smiled, her head nudging towards Theos's direction.

You took a deep breath and moved beside him, your shy eyes looking up at him. When he didn't look back, breathe a word, touch you, or even acknowledge your existence, you took it upon yourself to rest your head on the window seal.

Pft you thought.

Nine and a half hours of this. You wished you had a time turner to change your present. To have just written him. Maybe you wouldn't be in this situation if you had.

Would it be this painfully quiet the whole trip? Would he even reply if you started a conversation? Ugh you wanted to scream out. But you didn't. Your mouth stayed shut, and your eyes stayed closed.

Eventually falling asleep to the soundtrack of your endless thoughts.

That is until Theodore nudges you awake. Opening your eyes, he gestures for you to leave with him. Here we go.

The two of you walk down the thin corridors of the Hogwarts Express in silence, looking for an empty carriage.

After looking and looking, with no luck, Theodore grew increasingly impatient.

He found an almost empty space, though three kids, much younger than you both, sat in cartridge, door closed. Theodore stopped before the door, opening it, as the children stared at him.

"Get out", he said cooly, pointing at them, then behind himself.

"Why, where will we go?" a boy replied

"I don't give a fuck join the people next door. We're prefects unless you want three weeks of detention. I suggest you do as I say," he continued; it was the most you had heard of his voice in so long; you didn't want him to stop talking, even if it was telling off these strangers.

They hesitantly got up and left, muttering something under their breath, beginning their quest for new seats.

Theodore grabbed your hand and sat you down, closing the door and curtain behind him.

Your heart rate picked up again as he sat directly before you.

You didn't know where to look and certainly didn't know what to say.

"You have some nerve." He stated, leaning back, relaxing his legs out, looking straight at you.

Could he hear it, the thud of your pounding heart, you wondered.

"I-" you began

"And then. You dare to not sit next to me" He laughs, a scary laugh, an angry laugh

You inhale, ready to rebut before he starts again. "Is that what you want, to sit with Draco? Huh? Or Blaise or Matteo, anyone but your fucking boyfriend."

"I didn't think you wanted me near you," you say, looking out the window. Avoiding his gaze. Yeah, he didn't like that, immediately moving next to you,

"What's so special out the window?" he growled, placing two fingers on your chin, tilting your head towards him "Look at me when we talk, not the bloody view" he continued

"okay", you managed to whisper back. I wasn't a second longer before one of his hands reached the back of your neck, the other finding its way through your hair. His lips exploring your mouth.

He was literally taking your breath away when he finally pulled away; you caught your breath back, his forehead connecting to yours

"why didn't you fucking write me?" he pants out

"I don't know," you say, closing your eyes

"look at me" he says, you do.

"I waited all fucking summer," he says, looking deep into your eyes; you knew what he was doing, searching for the answer you still hadn't given him.

"you didn't write me either," you said in a hushed tone

His hands meet his face, burying his frustration.

You place your hands on his back, he moves his hand from his face to your arm, sliding down until his arm is around your body.

"I shouldn't talk to you for the whole school year" he spat out

"You couldn't live like that" you quickly reply

"I have plenty of experience, two months worth, all thanks to you," he says inching closer to you

"I'm sorry, Teddy, alright" you plead

"you really don't get it, do you? How angry you made me all fucking break. What am I gonna do with that?" his voice husky and low, leaning over you

"do what you have to do," you say just above a whisper underneath him

"Here, now? I don't think so" he says before kissing you "teddy" you called out

"I'm right here," he says, kissing your neck

"please" you whisper

"No, no," he says, moving off you

"I'm gonna make you as frustrated as you made me all summer, baby" he smiles

You look at him blankly. He was knocking any bit of integrity out of you

"come on" you almost laugh

"I'm so serious", he says "You'll be begging all term long" he continues kissing your forehead, standing up

"where are you going?" you rush

"back to the group" he smiles. You furrow your brows

"what's wrong, baby?" he chuckles

"Teddy" you whine

"I told you... begging" he says, looking back, leaving the carriage

This was not how you expect things to go.

It was going to be a long term, and you hadn't even arrived yet.

The punishment of pushing Theodore Nott.

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part 2 - here

[shomatoriashi]

11/03/24; 06:20pm

sylus x fem.reader

love and deepspace - spy au | canon divergent | inspired by the kingsman movie series

warnings: unedited; 18+ content; potentially ooc; alcohol use; death of a family member; angst to fluff / smut; sylus is referred to skye in this story / au.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

alternate title: the spy who loved me.

sylus qin-

a name that was synonymous with fear among the underground world.

much of his background was left a mystery, but that didn't stop people from trying to fill in the missing details with their own rumors-

like how he wasn't human due to the destructive evol he carried; that he had struck a deal with the devil himself to obtain such an ability.

or how his movements were as quick and silent as that of shadows, and that sylus had millions of eyes around the world due to his connection to the crows-

yet there was one fact that remained true regardless of what the rumors said, and it was how that man was a vital part of onychinus, a hidden sect made up of skilled assassins and spies that only a select few of people even knew about-

which included your father, the current head of your family's mafia.

he paces around his office, trailing his eyes over his mahogany desk before landing on a picture of you, his sole daughter. his gaze was solemn when he picks up the picture frame, carefully tracing at your smiling features as you were being held within your mother's embrace.

you had turned 24, celebrating your birthday with your mother as you wore the bracelet she had given you that day as a gift. looking at this picture causes the man's heart to clench almost painfully within his chest.

his wife was still so vibrant; how could he have possibly known that her life would end just a mere few weeks later? a bullet had pierced through her heart, his men unable to shield her when a rival faction had targeted her. and upon realizing that your mother had died-

you had changed drastically.

no longer were you the starry-eyed girl who clung to her parents, basking in their unconditional love for you. now, you became someone that had little regard for her own life-

you drank copious amounts of alcohol, going out to bars every single night with every intention to get blacked out drunk. the pain of losing your mother took its toll on you, and truly, your father understood where this behavior was coming from. the loss of your mother was enough to push you over the edge.

despite his best efforts of trying to soothe your broken soul through various means (buying you a new car, filling your room with all of the things you loved)-

it didn't work.

and if he couldn't stop you soon, then he would lose you, too.

he no longer trusted his men to truly keep you safe during this dire time in your life-

which was why he resorted to hiring the devil himself to be your shield.

{ ... }

when sylus was told he had a new client by luke and kieran, he was barely interested and simply waved off their excitement.

however, once the twins showed him the down payment the man, mr. zero, had given him-

he was all too willing to meet with the man to see what his next job would be like. using one of the many bars he had owned as a meeting spot, sylus had sent his client a text detailing the time and place with a thinly veiled warning of what would happen if he was ever late.

adjusting his suit, sylus brushes back his hair while entering the club, crimson eyes scanning the area before heading towards one of the private rooms. the bouncer greets him before opening the door, revealing a middle aged man seated in front of him.

the door was heard shutting from behind him, and sylus takes a brief moment to finally assess zero's features. as the onychinus leader stared at him, he noticed how the man appeared much older than he probably was. a weary expression was seen on his face, and even when he was smiling at him, it was filled with a bitterness.

"i hope that my payment was enough to get your attention, mr. qin." sylus hums, going towards the bar to pour him and mr. zero a shot of whiskey. "you could say that... after all, there's not many people who would give me a down payment of 50 million."

after pouring the drinks, sylus hands zero a glass before sitting across from him. he takes casual sips of the amber liquid, allowing the smoky flavor to burn down his throat as he waited for the older man to speak. zero runs a hand across his hair, tilting the glass up to his lips as he downed the shot of whiskey within seconds. as he slams down the glass, zero pulls out a photograph before sliding it across the table.

setting his drink to the side, sylus takes a moment to admire the picture, seeing a young woman smiling with what he assumed was her mother.

"that's my daughter and her mother... my wife- she was killed a year ago, and i have never been able to forgive myself for being unable to protect my wife." sylus frowns at the image, detecting the way zero's voice broke down. "my daughter still grieves the loss of her mother, and i'm afraid that she'll go down a path that not even i can save her from."

"please, i beg of you, mr. qin. i need you to protect my daughter by whatever means is necessary. if you do this for me, with each month that she remains safe- at least until i can finally bring my wife's murderer to justice, i swear to you, i'll give you 10 million."

sylus's eyes darken with amusement, tilting up his own glass of whiskey as he downs the shot in one gulp. letting out a satisfied sigh, sylus sits back against the couch while spinning the glass around his pointer finger, "10 million per month... and if my services were to last an entire year-"

"money is not an issue when it comes to protecting the ones that i love." zero's gaze was filled with a determination, making sylus break out into an almost shit-eating grin.

perhaps the best clients were the doting fathers who would give anything for their daughters.

{ ... }

your dad had put you on lockdown again.

but were you going to let that stop you?

hell no.

surrounding the borders of your room were dozens of men that worked for your father. not only had they put an external lock on your bedroom door, but a tracker on your phone as well.

deep down, you knew the true reasoning as to why your father kept you in such a luxurious cage-

but you refused to acknowledge it.

feeling your heart begin to clench with pain, you look away from your door and allowed your gaze to land on the shimmering gold settled on your right wrist. as you take in the various charms and the way the gemstones glittered below your bedroom light, a memory of a loving smile was brought to the forefront of your mind-

a loving smile you would never see again.

panic was felt rising against your throat, the raw pain of it all threatening to spill out of you as bitter and harsh as bile. your heart continues to pound, filling you with a desperation as you quickly headed toward your window.

fueled by your own grief, you push open the window and breathe in the cold air, allowing the rush of adrenaline to course through you. your eyes look at the distance between the edge of your window and the ground below. knowing that this was the only way for you to get out of your stifling prison, you began to climb out of your window sill, trying to hang on to the best of your abilities as you decided when the best time to jump was.

as you focused your attention on the pristine grass that was settled below you, the sounds of a motorcycle passing by makes your heart jump within the confines of your throat. your eyes become quickly blinded by the searing light, making you lose your grip on the windowsill.

your body make its quick descent to the ground, and you clenched your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the painful impact-

yet the impact never comes, with your ears managing to pick up the sounds of something shift within the air. your eyes become wide, seeing a tall man with silver hair appear in front of you as he captures you in his arms.

time seemed to stand still, with the perfect stranger shielding you as he landed on the ground with an audible grunt. he ends up taking the brunt of the fall while keeping you safely tucked away with his embrace. blood was felt rushing to your ears, making you feel dizzy as you steadied yourself by placing the palm of your hand against his chest.

you found yourself straddling this man's waist, lips parted as you drank in the sight of him. never before had you seen such a pure, masculine beauty quite like him, with full lips and ruby red eyes that could make your heart melt-

and judging from the sheer girth of his arms wrapped around you, the strength of his body was evident to you as well.

he smirks at you, and you wince when he places the pad of his thumb against your lips, "what's this? has a princess just escaped from her castle?"

your mouth goes dry upon hearing his voice, and had you been given more time, you would have basked in his voice-

however, sudden cries of your name was what succeeds in breaking you out of your reveries. with a gasp, you cling to this hot stranger and look at him with pleading eyes.

"please, you've got to get me away from here, i beg of you."

he shoots up an eyebrow at you, but thankfully does not ask questions. taking you in his arms, he takes quick strides toward the single motorbike settled on the street. you take in the sight of the sleek vehicle, eyebrows furrowed when you saw two helmets settle on the seat.

but you were given little time to think about it, feeling your bare feet land against the concrete as he relinquishes his hold on you. tossing you the other helmet, he gestures at you to get behind him, "if it's a getaway you want, it's a getaway you're going to get, sweetie."

calls of your name were getting louder now, which prompted you to get on the back of his bike while donning the helmet. as he revved up his bike, you made sure to flash your middle finger at your father's men all while clinging to the front of your savior's chest.

{ ... }

sylus wasn't expecting you to be so damn alluring up close. as he felt the way your body was pressed against his back, a strange warm begins to surround him, the sensation being enough to make his heart begin to race steadily from within his chest. when sylus made his escape from your home, the change in your demeanor was immediate.

the sounds of your melodious laughter echoes from behind him, and he sees the way your hair whips from behind you. reaching a stoplight, he brakes in time, balancing his bike while taking a moment to look back at you-

which ends up being the biggest mistake he could make.

he feels the way your head rests against his broad back, noticing the almost wistful expression in your eyes. ignoring the way his heart began to pound, sylus focuses on the traffic light. deciding to hide his emotions behind a snarky remark, he begins to speak, "it's not normal for spoiled princesses like you to get on a bike with a stranger."

sylus swore he could hear your pout, "i'm not a princess... i'm just... i just want to forget."

he hears the way your voice breaks and frowns, ready to say something, but stops when the light turns green. shaking his head, sylus chooses to forget about your pain, recalling the reason why he was put in this situation to begin with.

strengthening his resolve, sylus picks up speed and weaves expertly across the city, the sound of your laughter no longer echoing from behind him.

{ ... }

your savior ends up taking you to the top floor of a high-rise apartment. carrying the two helmets within his hand, you watch as he extracts a sleek black key card from his pocket, opening the door for you to step in first.

"after you, princess."

"i have a name." you fold your arms across your chest, telling the man the syllables that make up your name. amusement was heard in his voice, and you forced yourself to remain calm when his rich voice repeated your name.

"i like that name, it suits a feisty woman like you. as for me, you may call me skye."

as you step into his apartment, you take in the the luxurious furniture, recognizing the brands while your hands traced at the onyx figurines of crows settled on the table. you look back at the man and scoff, "skye? i'm sorry, but that name does not suit you at all."

you look away from him, becoming interested in the cabinet that was filled with expensive bottles of liquor, completely missing the offended look on skye's face. you step closer to the cabinet, pulling the glass door open before gripping at a bottle of cognac.

before you could twist the cap open, sylus stops you by placing a hand around your wrist. a stern expression was settled on his face, "and what do you think you're doing?"

"i'm trying to forget." a flash of emotion was seen in his gaze, yet just as it appears, it was gone within mere seconds. even when you attempted to remove your hand from his grip, skye doesn't relent, managing to take the bottle of cognac away from you.

"whatever you're trying to forget, i'm sure using liquor isn't the answer."

skye places the bottle back into the cabinet, slamming it shut before taking your hand. as he grips at your wrist, you caught sight of your bracelet shimmering against your skin-

making your throat close up in response.

caught up in your painful reveries, you were dimly aware of how skye places you on a seat, settling you in front of a dining table. your eyes never once looked away from the bracelet your mother had given you-

the last gift you would ever receive from her.

you think back to your last day with her-

and the need to reach out and get a bottle to help with drowning your emotions quickly resurfaces, with you ready to bolt towards the cabinet when the sound of glass being slammed in front of you snaps you out of it.

skye was settled in front of you, a frown painting his devastating features when he slides the glass of ice water toward you. "drink this instead, you need it."

unable to find it in yourself to go against him, you take the glass and place it to your lips, draining it within a few gulps. skye watches you intently, noticing the few droplets that fell from your mouth before descending toward your throat, making his eyes darken in response to the sight.

letting out a weary sigh, you place the glass back down on the table, not meeting skye's gaze. listening as he gently inhaled, skye tentatively asks you, "this is none of my business, but i need to know... just what are you trying so hard to forget?"

you don't answer him for several seconds, clenching your eyes shut as you allowed your hands to form into fists against the table. no matter how much time had passed, this was something you would never get over-

"i lost my mom... she was killed..."

you keep your eyes shut, just basking in your memories as you told skye everything. it was strange, but something about skye made you want to open up to him-

that even though you knew it was crazy to feel such a thing for a man you

"to keep it simple, my father... he's a... he's a really powerful man. he comes from a long line- from old money, essentially. when he was younger, he fell in love with my mom, who happened to be a normal civilian."

you take a moment to gather your emotions, taking in a deep breath as your hands began to tremble. just when you felt like you were close to losing it, skye places a hand over yours, engulfing it in a warmth that soothed your anxieties.

opening your eyes, you gasp upon seeing how close skye was to you. his rufescent eyes appeared... softer, somehow. you felt the way his hands gently frame at your face as the pad of his thumb traced at your bottom lip.

"and you were born out of love." skye's voice was solemn, with his expression void of its playfulness. yet his words succeeds in making your throat clench even further in response. you were left dumbfounded, watching as sylus slowly inched closer to you, with his lips a mere few inches away from your own-

why did it feel like he knew?

his breath warms at your lips, and just as you were about to close your eyes to meet with him-

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump away from him.

skye clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he stands from his seat to answer the door. you were about to ask who it was, but stopped when you smelled the familiar scent of your favorite takeout. with the bag in hand, skye returns to you, placing the food in front of you. as you looked at all the containers, you said out loud, "all of these are my favorites..."

you catch the momentary stiffness in skye's composure before he visibly relaxes. "sweetie, you are mistaken, since such a meal can be anyone's favorite."

the strangeness of it all was starting to get to you-

but when skye opens up a container and offers it to you, you allow the lingering scent to wrap around you, awakening in you a hunger that you hadn't felt in a long time. taking a hold of your utensils, you began to dig into your favorite food-

with the lingering doubts still settled at the back of your mind.

{ ... }

being around you proved to be a much more challenging feat than sylus could have ever anticipated.

before he got to know you, sylus had every intention of whisking you away after your failed escaping attempt, keeping you within his penthouse for 12 months with the goal of collecting the 120 million from your father-

but now that he was forced to be in your presence-

forced to see the vulnerability in your eyes along with the pain that came from missing your mother-

he felt something change.

why did it suddenly feel like the money didn't matter to him anymore?

why did the sight of your smile cause his heart to do somersaults within his chest?

why did it feel like his mission was to truly protect you without any conditions?

sylus quickly erases those thoughts from his mind the moment his phone rings. looking down at the screen, he notices the caller's name and visibly stiffens.

it was your father, the man who chose his alias to be zero.

was it already time for his monthly report?

closing his eyes, he answers the call while ignoring the feeling of guilt that threatens to take root inside of him.

{ ... }

your relationship with skye was... odd, to say the least.

despite how serendipitous your meeting with him felt (like he was in the right place at the right time the night of your desperate escape), you couldn't deny that a part of you felt safe with him.

perhaps the loss of your mother made you lose a bit of your rationality. losing her felt like you were left with a gaping hole deep inside of your chest-

a hole that you wanted to be filled by skye.

it was maddening, trying to sift through your emotions when it came to skye. you had been staying with him for close to 6 months now, yet the way he payed so much attention to you (seeming to care for you while buying the things you needed, never once complaining about your presence) coupled along with his lingering kindness-

it was enough for him to weasel his way into your heart-

yet at the same time, you knew that he was acting suspicious. there was something that skye was hiding from you, which did nothing but further complicate the feelings you had for him.

despite how strange everything felt, one fact remained undeniable-

and it was the fact that his presence was enough to pacify the shattering pain of your mother's death, with you practically clinging to him as the days went by. with his snarky and haughty attitude, you felt incredibly safe when he was close to you-

even now, you found yourself yearning for his presence, even though he was settled a mere few feet away from you. your hands itched with the need to grab on to his hand and ruffle his hair each time he teased you-

so caught up in your thoughts, you end up unconsciously walking toward his room, noticing how it remained slightly open. his deep voice was heard speaking in hushed tones into his cellphone, and as you neared the room, you heard a familiar sound coming from skye's phone-

"i don't want the money anymore, i'll send every last penny back, just please-" skye harshly speaks into his phone, making your heart turn to ice when you recognized the booming voice on the other line-

it was the sound of your father's voice.

"how do you know my father?" skye immediately faces you, dropping his phone in the progress. the man visibly pales, swallowing thickly as he shakily called out your name.

"i-it's not what you think, please believe me, it's not what you think it is-"

"you...you lied to me? you had b-been working for my father this whole time?" angry tears cascades down your face, and when skye visibly winces, looking away from you while letting out a string of curses-

that was all the evidence that you needed.

you turn away from him, running out of his room as the tears marred your vision. reaching the front door, you pull it open with a brute force that nearly rips it from its hinges. knowing that he would catch you if you tried to use the elevators, you hurriedly take the stairs, making your desperate descent while choking back your sobs.

everything made sense now-

like how strange it was that skye had another helmet for you-

or how he knew your favorite takeout-

and the way he seemed to read your mind these past couple of months-

it was all because of your father.

everything had been meticulously planned by him-

and you were stupid enough to fall for it.

gasping for air, you manage to escape out of the apartment building, the tears streaming even faster down your cheek as you staggered into the street, breaking out into a run while praying that skye wouldn't find you.

your mind was in a deep haze, exhaustion tingeing your every step when a low whistle was heard.

"i knew you'd run out of onychinus's cage eventually."

your movements ceased when you felt the barrel of the gun become pressed against your head, an icy sensation now felt coursing through your veins. your throat turns dry, and you caught sight of a tattooed man sneering at you, cocking his gun once more before pressing it against your temple.

"you're comin' with me, princess." he smirks at you, continuing to press the gun even closer to your head, "as much as i'd like to shoot your pretty little brains out like i did with your mama, i'm sure your daddy's willing to pay a hefty price just to have you back. once i get the money, then i'll kill him before claiming victory-" he was suddenly cut off when a crow manages to slam the gun out of his hands, its beady eyes never once straying from the man as it let out a harsh caw!

"what the fuck-"

the man was unable to finish his sentence when darkness surrounds the entirety of his body, wrapping around his form like deadly tendrils-

"close your eyes, princess."

recognizing skye's voice, you immediately turn away from him and clench your eyes shut, hearing a piercing scream before the wet sounds of something imploding in on itself echoes throughout the area. you fell down to your knees, only to be caught by a powerful pair of arms.

you were openly sobbing now, clinging to the front of his shirt, "s-skye... w-what...why-"

skye cuts you off, swallowing your words with a searing kiss when he crashes his lips against yours. you moan at the sudden sensation, tightening your grip on him as he pulls you into his broad chest, shielding you from the gruesome sight that was settled a mere few inches away from you.

"not here," he purposely crushes your face within his chest, blocking your vision when he picks you up. your tears were still falling, yet you felt the strange sensation of your body being pulled, with the air seeming to crackle with static in response for a brief moment-

before landing back within the quiet safety of skye's living room.

with your face still hidden within his chest, you felt the way skye began to tremble, pulling away from you. he shakily frames at your face, using the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before telling you, "fuck, i thought i lost you-"

as if remembering the moment, skye takes you back into his arms, pressing another kiss against your lips, filled with an even greater desperation than the last one.

not daring to break apart his connection to you, he takes you to his bedroom, kicking down the door before falling into his bed with him. your hands grip at the silken sheets, letting out a moan when skye dips a hand into the waistband of your pants.

"it may have started out as a lie, but my feelings for you are true." you feel the way he dips a finger into your folds, collecting your arousal as you tossed your head back in response. his breathing becomes labored when he inserts his middle fingers inside of you, thrusting the single digit in and out of your core before huskily admitting to you, "my true name... is sylus qin... and your father hired me to protect you."

a part of you felt angry and annoyed, but feeling the way skye sylus was moving his thick finger in and out of your slick heat was making your mind go hazy. instead of using your words, you allow your nails to grip at his biceps before raking down his skin, earning a hiss from him.

"fuck, kitten, that hurt- but how about you punish me more and give my back those same claw marks?"

you hated how the sight of his smirk was enough to make your legs clench in response for him, feeling sylus remove his finger from your slick heat momentarily, now gripping at the waistband of his pants as unbuckled himself-

his crimson gaze was eclipsed by complete darkness now, his desire and need for you evident in the way he tore off his clothes, ensuring that he was utterly bare for you. your traitorous heart ends up racing in response to his nakedness, and you felt a powerful ache settle between your legs at the sight of sylus's godly form. recognizing the lust in your eyes causes him to smirk as he places his large hands against your clothes, now working on tearing off your own clothes until you were utterly bare for him.

hungry eyes raked through your form, and you watch as sylus licked his lips before laying back down against the bed. he spreads your legs wide open for him, giving your inner thighs a kiss before whispering against your skin, "let me show you the true depths of my devotion to you... let me make it up to you."

"sylus-"

you had only said his true name out loud, but it was enough to make sylus surge forward, burying his face within your slick walls. the sensation of his tongue drinking up the evidence of your honeyed arousal makes you fall back in bed, hands gripping at his soft hair. instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him, allowing sylus to take you to heaven when he kept devouring you like he was a man starved.

never had you felt such potent sensations of pleasure before, with sylus expertly eliciting moans and gasps of his name, allowing it to fall from your parted lips like a never-ending mantra. as he continued his ministrations on you, the more you felt a coil seem to tighten within your abdomen. "o-oh my god, s-sylus!"

you gasp when your back arches against the bed, with sylus keeping your hips still as you spilled yourself into his hot mouth. with a grunt of your name, sylus drinks in everything you had to offer. red hot pleasure courses through you, making you cry out to him as you tightened your grip against his hair.

"ngh... fuck... you taste s'fucking sweet." sylus manages to release his hair from your hands, crawling toward you as he spread your legs wide for him to settle between. drunk off of the sheer taste of you, sylus presses his lips against yours, purposely deepening the kiss, allowing you to taste yourself with his kiss alone.

distracting you with his kiss, you managed to remain relaxed for him when sylus suddenly pushes his cock into your entrance, the sudden intrusion making you toss your head back as you cling to sylus. a string of curses was heard coming from the man settled above you. when you felt your walls taking in every inch you had to offer (completely sheathing him), you lost all train of thought, allowing the man to piston his hips in and out of you.

"fuck...!" sylus grips at your hips, keeping it still as he begins to thrust his cock in and out of your slick walls at a breakneck pace. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echo throughout the room, making you cry out to him when you felt the moisture flowing out of you.

"o-oh...!" you gasp, wrapping your legs around sylus's naked waist, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you with each pound. by now, he was quite literally fucking you into his bed-

and you found yourself enjoying every minute of it.

from the way sylus seemed to harshly grip at your waist, you were certain that it would leave a bruise-

yet you didn't care, allowing this powerful man to bring you towards another release while you sloppily met his thrusts with your own-

the telltale sensation of his cock growing inside of you as he tightens, stilling his hips one last time before spilling thick ropes of his cum deep within you succeeds in making you cry out to him, your voice seeming to echo throughout the room along with sylus's growl of your name.

unable to help himself, sylus captures your lips once more, purposely swallowing your moans as he rode out both of your releases, his hips weakly pounding in and out of you, making sure that you had milked every last drop out of him before landing next to you on the bed.

your body was damp with sweat as a pleasant haze goes through you. not wishing to break your connection with sylus, you tentatively move closer to him, resting your head against his chest before pressing a kiss against it.

"y-you... did you want me... to forget that i'm mad at you by fucking my brains out?" you weakly manage to tease him, earning a rich chuckle from him.

"depends... is it working?" he leans down to press a kiss against your hair, making you smile when you cheekily tell him,

"how about you find out... when we go a few more rounds...?"

sylus needed no further urging from you, returning back to you as he placed a desperate kiss against your lips...

[ epilogue ]

your father was pacing around his office, filled with anxiety at being caught.

he prayed that you would forgive him-

that he could see you again, happy and whole despite your own pain.

truly, your father wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, to bring you back home all while telling you that he did this all in the name of love-

that losing your mother made him go crazy at the thought of losing you, too-

but a part of him still felt too guilty to do anything.

as he was caught up in his thoughts, the sound of a notification coming from his phone startles him, making him look down at his phone to see a message from sylus himself.

eager to know what it says, he opens up the text and reads through it, eyes filled with relief as the older man breaks out into a grin. in the text was what looked like a screenshot of a bank account wiring back 110 million dollars along with a single text:

i finally understand. she's worth all the money. with this payment, i promise to protect her for the rest of my life - s.q.

end notes: omg i can't believe i'm gonna lose sleep over this story, but lmaoo, it's my dream story, and i need to finish writing this. spy!sylus, how i need you so 😭🙌🏻 this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes tomorrow, it's bedtime for me!! also, for the reader's dad using an alias to contact sy, i wanted to do something so you readers could use any name that suits you outside of the alias! making it a true insert hhhhhhhh 🥹 this was a tough story to write though, but i hope you readers enjoyed it all the same!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[iznsfw]

Ms. Kang Hyewon

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 3 - Kang Hyewon

IZ*ONE's Kang Hyewon x Male Reader Smut

9,122 words

Categories | femdom, mommy kink, degradation, angry sex, choking

Content warning | blackmail, degradation, Hyewon isn't so innocent here

Well, well, well, look who came back with Day 3.

My promise remains. Expect more, but on separate days. I won't run away with your money like a certain pre-

Thread isn’t claustrophobic. It slips through spaces not even your fingernail could pierce apart. Effortlessly, too. It isn’t afraid of being knotted up. It just needs guidance: a pinch to lead it through the eye and a pull to seam it through the hem. 

You wish you wielded the same fearlessness. It’s thinner and more fragile than you (highly debated) yet it’s hardened to its life. The only thing you’re granted as a similarity to it is the need for guidance, not all of that shit about courage. 

Maybe that’s why you became a fashion designer. 

Needles have their own strengths, too. They’re not cowards to inflicting pain for aesthetics. Why do you think they stab so effortlessly through fabric and silk and skin and whatnot? They sharpen themselves through softness, and all that edge goes straight into the process.

And sometimes, your fingers.

“Fuck.” Your reverie is broken at last. From your thumb, a trail of red leaks. You’re used to the minor cuts and wounds, but the blood really does something to you. It reminds you of how fragile human anatomy is. One uncalculated move can end it all. 

“You good?” asks Eunbi. 

Suck on your thumb. A metallic taste settles over your tongue. She peers at you curiously; wave your hand at her dismissively to tell her it’s fine. This is everyday for you, like you said. Your heart will pump anxiously but that goes away, too. It’s all a vestige of time.

Flatten the vest top on the table. Wait, it’s not exactly a top yet if fringes of thread splay from the edges. You still have to work on that. Nothing is something when it’s not completed. It’s either you finish it grandly or leave it in pathetic tatters. 

“You sure you're okay?”

“Just a little nervous,” you reply. 

“I mean,” Eunbi laughs as she fixes her short hair into a ponytail, “she is Kang Hyewon.”

Not that she needs to remind you. Your nerves are in a wreck already. You’ve been replaying the pros of the situation in your head like a favorite song. Working for Hyewon would look good in your resumés. If time sees fit, you’d have your own line and everyone would want to wear it. Your name could be a staple of fashion, the god of gods. Something like that.

It only sucks that you’re painfully new to this world. This is the first time you’re this far from your family and friends. Seoul’s a far cry from your humble town. It’s the home of everything that matters. Nights of staying up drawing and designing couldn’t harden you for an industry that sways and shakes out the unfit.

This is your chance to find out if you’re one of them.

“The superstar who’s about to wear my shitty clothes.”

“They’re anything but shitty. You have seriously good ideas.” Always, Eunbi comes in to reassure you. That’s why you see her as a mentor. “She wouldn’t turn down wearing couture if she didn’t see potential in what you make.”

See, you would never have agreed to any of this. You’re a fresh graduate from some fashion school, and the only models you’ve worked on are the runway rejects. Fixing a sloppy first draft on a stick-thin, soulless girl is different from designing and dressing up Kang Hyewon. 

She’s everything—model, actress, singer, and idol. She’s a gem for every brand out there. They’re all dying to get her to be their ambassador. Every director with a complete brain wants to cast her for their new drama. 

And it’s her who can lift you to heights in your career. So you’d be an idiot not to seal the deal.

“Have you worked with her before?”

As your needle sews a story of fabric, Eunbi’s words whittle her story with Hyewon. Turns out, this is only her second time working with the star. She confirms that Hyewon is truly gorgeous in person with those god-given full lips and hardset eyes. 

Apparently, first impressions are right after all when it’s with her—she’s a silent, withholding woman who doesn’t talk outside of necessity. Eunbi tells you her nerves were in knots the first time, but also informs you that as long as you do your job for her properly, there isn’t gonna be any problem.

“Just be careful in what you do and say,” Eunbi whispers. She peeks over at your nearly finished piece. “That’s turning out really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.” 

Look proudly at your handiwork. It’s a sleeveless top fashioned from denim, with a V-shaped curve at the stomach. You’ve attached strips of more denim on the front that are sewn on with threads that match the blue of the ocean, embedded into the chest to prevent dullness. You think it’s turning out pretty good, too.

You would’ve gone on smiling if it weren’t for what you remembered. “Wait, why do I have to be careful?”

“She’s not, like, shy or anything. Just really unfiltered when it comes to feedback. She told me the eyeliner I did on her was shit, and that I shouldn’t come back if I planned on doing that again.”

Doubts about the beauty of your design rise. It might look good in your eyes, but what if it doesn’t in hers? She’d probably see the lack of color and call it a monstrosity. She’s got the type of power to get away with brutal words, to leave your little self-confidence in pieces.

The leg-hugging jeans and vest now look painfully average to you. There’s no debating that she’d look good in it, but there’s that constant back-and-forth argument in your head about whether or not Hyewon would like it. 

“Were you hurt?” you ask.

Eunbi wipes red lipstick from the edges of her mouth with the mirror’s reflection as guidance, then smiles. “She’s the kind of woman I’d let do more than hurt me.”

-

You don’t know what that was about, but you’re not one to pry. You don’t have the time anyway.

Assistants have poured into the room. It’s your sign to put in more work—their arrival means that Hyewon is about to come very soon. They’re all dressed in their uniforms, the kind that looks good but not too good that it takes away the fact that they’re just staff. 

Eunbi shifts her weight from one stiletto to another. “Are you done?” she asks. She gazes over at your sewing as she taps anxious rhythms on the vanity table. Notice how she’s taken off her acrylics and in turn shows her cruelly bitten fingernails. 

You huff. “I’m trying.” 

Stick a red-studded pin through the denim to keep the vest in place. What shade of blue did you use again? Staring for lengthy minutes at your messy table doesn’t help you find it. Your chalks have left pink powder on the wood. Your threads are unspooled and everywhere. In the midst of it all, the star’s vest sits, still waiting to be finished. 

“She’s getting here in five!” Yena shouts.

“Any updates there?” Eunbi says pleadingly to you, eyes full of tears.

“I said I’m trying, Eunbi.”

“Then try harder, fuck!” 

Her hands have abandoned their rhythms and are squeezed up into tiny, helpless fists. She keeps peeking out of the dressing room as if she’d die on the spot if Hyewon were there already. This is the first time you’ve seen Eunbi this beside herself. Even her crew is shocked. Her fear infects them too and now all sets of scared eyes are on you. They’re depending on your speed for their careers. If you fall short, they fall short, too. It’s a domino effect of failure. 

Yena pushes aside the hangers of clothing to frisk for the makeup kit. Chaeyeon has her hands in her air while Minju whimpers behind her. They all know one thing for sure: you’re never gonna finish on time.

Your needle fits and slips, fits and slips, fits and slips—

“Can’t you go any faster?” cries out Eunbi.

The thread almost pulls the rest of the fabric along it when you pull furiously. “Unless you want me to get stabbed in the fucking wrist,” you say, “I can’t.”

You prick yourself multiple times trying to speed up. Push the layered denim down. It’s like drowning a needle, letting it go up from the waves of clothes for air, then drowning it again. However, you don’t care for any casualties right now. You don’t care for deaths either. All you want is to do is finish this piece.

You hear three short knocks on the door. Your world stops, but your sewing doesn’t. You can do this. You can still make it look somehow finished. 

“Ms. Kang!” 

Curl.

Thread. 

Knot.

You’re done. It’s safe to turn around.

All of the women along with Eunbi have bowed deeply. Standing in front of them is the straight-postured form of the adored celebrity. The assistants look like they’re an estranged cult of some sorts who’s worshiping a goddess who’s come to earth.

Strangely, you find out that, as you stare at Kang Hyewon, you understand.

You can now grasp the idea why she’s ventured into so many fields: she can do it all. She can be it all.

Her hair is as black as night, and so are her irises. Her expression tells you no background, not even of a troublesome drive or a good meal. No, not any of that, for Hyewon’s face is a serious little look of professionalism. It’s the kind people of her status wear—celebrated doctors, movie stars, activists. But for some reason, it looks so much hotter on her. 

It would take skilled mathematicians and scientists to find out what’s behind her neutral expression, but it doesn’t take a degree to know that she’s downright beautiful.

The pictures her dedicated fansites take of her truly don’t do justice to her attractiveness. Her face is smaller than a child’s. The nonchalant stare in her eyes makes her look out of this world, which could be said too for her preppy clothes. She’s a fashion icon for the younger generation after all.

A natural pair of plump lips doesn’t show a sign of a smile. Nevertheless, she’s a beautiful woman. You assume that it’s how it is for her everyday, just like drawing is your daily routine.

“Hello.” Hyewon’s voice is surprisingly feminine yet husky. She looks at you all indifferently, then places her bag on a nearby chair. Each action of hers is minimal and measured.

“Would you like to get dressed, Ms. Kang?” asks Eunbi, her voice a pitch too high.

She nods.

You hand over the jeans and shirt. Make a beeline for the exit. There’s a reason why an all-female staff was hired for Hyewon. You were taught in school that you best not dress them up directly if they’re a celebrity and you aren’t known in the industry yet. There’s all the reason to fear: hidden cameras and microphones, leaked footage, the like. While you’re not a man whose intentions are dark, you still follow protocol.

“What are you running away for?” 

Your shoes stop paving the way to the door. Was that Hyewon? “What?” you say.

Eunbi winces. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. You don’t state that in that tone to a woman of that class.

Hyewon sighs audibly. “Can you look me in the eyes when I talk to you?”

You’re cold yet trepidation prickles your skin like fire. Slowly, almost comically, turn around. Her coat is off, leaving her in a skirt and a sleeveless undershirt on which she’s crossed her arms above. So how can you look at her directly? That body of hers is shockingly easy on the eyes.

“You’re the fashion designer, right?” she asks. 

Smile awkwardly. “I, uh—”

“Then why are you leaving? Come over here and help me. I want to see if you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m, a little, uh, actually—”

“You’re actually what?”

Your mouth’s dry. Eunbi and her crew look too scared to remind her that you’re an amateur. You haven’t dressed up a star and you definitely aren’t a professional. 

But what can you do? Look at her—a woman who could crumble your career into shards if she said so and blacklist you from the industry forever—and tell her no? 

So, you approach.

Is it a blessing that you’re granted the honors of removing her underclothes? Or a curse? 

As you undress her, you’re given the affirmation that her body is more than easy on the eyes. It’s fucking to die for. Her waist isn’t concerningly tiny, but shows a defined curve that elevates to her torso. Her breasts are large for her frame, barely fitting the size of her lace bra.

“Woah, what are you doing?” you say, eyes wide at Eunbi suddenly unclasping said bra. You feel like a Victorian man catching sight of ankles.

Eunbi looks confused. “Didn’t you say a bra would ruin the look? And that we should use nipple tape?”

Hyewon stares at her, then looks at you, waiting for an answer. 

“Oh, right.” You chuckle tensely. “Sorry.”

Your lips are pursed to keep you from hissing in embarrassment. Now you probably look like a creep. Your fright and wariness are taking control, and you have no idea what to do. 

You conveniently close your eyes when the bra’s taken off. Take the vest from Yena and raise it above Hyewon’s head. No matter what, you’ll keep your eyes up. Not below, where her breasts are sure to catch you off guard; not to the side, where they might be assuming you’re everything bad; but up. Nowhere else.

“It looks beautiful on you.” Minju’s smile is less nervous now that the job is done. 

Her remark is nothing short of the truth. The garment slips onto Hyewon’s body like water. The defined carve of her clavicle stands out above the conservative neckline. Still, her bare arms alone will already have people thinking of something. The jeans accentuate her slim long legs elevated by a pair of expensive heels. She doesn’t need makeup to look good in what you sewed for her. Her body and face do the job. 

Hyewon doesn't respond to the compliment. She simply sits down on the swivel makeup chair, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone. Her thumbs twiddle with a game you’ve seen her advertise before. She’s true to her endorsements.

Minju carefully fills the brims of her eyelids with sharp cat eyeliner. Hyewon still doesn’t look up from her phone. You guess she’s used to people adapting to her and not the other way around. 

You like the touch of the fierce red lipstick Eunbi applies on her later on. It’s a bold statement, something that goes like: It’s me, Kang Hyewon; this is the face of a woman who can destroy you, and I promise that you’ll love it.

“You look great, Ms. Kang,” Eunbi compliments her cheerfully, clicking the lipstick back.

Hyewon stares at herself in the mirror. She’s a silent observer, taking in her reflection and studying it closely. 

A lunar eclipse personified, a smile stretches on her lips that releases your held breaths. “I know.”

-

Mirrors lined with shining diamonds. Words that spell the house of fashion emblazoned in lights. Expensive makeup behind glass. Bags that are worth your tuition sitting on displayed pedestals as if they didn’t know their own worth. The event is a never-ending sea of vanity for the wealthy and the west. You can’t believe you’re playing a part in it, although you’re a sheep among well-dressed wolves.

Crowds of reporters and photographers wait at the main hall. There’s no questioning who they’re here for. Although Jang is undoubtedly a big name, so is Hyewon. They were right to recruit her. You’ve never seen a crowd this big, even for fashion. You wonder how much they paid her to be the ambassador. Must be millions when all the other houses are dying to have her. She doesn’t look like one who kindly allows lowballing.

Neither does this man. He’s grand in his custom Victoria Jang and shoes that have the glimmer of stars themselves as he stands at the center. He must be the MC; he has a name tag to his breast pocket and a mic in his fist.

“Dude, did you know Anya Taylor-Joy’s gonna be here?” Rafael tells you.

“The chick from that cool chess movie?”

“Yeah,” he replies. He gestures to the small screen that shows her holding a lipstick to her jaw. It would be hard to see it behind the scrambling reporters. Luckily, as the designer, you scored a nearby spot backstage. “Jennie, too!”

The two are gorgeous, but you’re honestly more interested in Hyewon. If people see she’s wearing your clothes, they’d want to hire you, too. She doesn’t follow the trend; she is the trend. Soon, you’ll see Korea filled with women wearing the same shirt, the same jeans, the same style…

“We’re proud to present Jang’s first store in Korea,” says the MC. Yep, you were right. “This is a monumental stepping stone for our founder, Ms. Jang Wonyoung. Please welcome her with a hearty applause!”

You know all about Jang Wonyoung. She’s a self-made woman whose passion for beauty got the attention of the public, especially the western world. She’s always busy despite her tender age of nineteen: performing onstage with her group IVE, traveling, founding a new school in meager areas. She’s almost at the same level as Hyewon in terms of stardom.

Wonyoung comes out from the background, dressed fashionably as always. A polite smile decorates her glossed lips. It’s caught by the flashes of cameras and the reporters’ cheers. 

“Hello, thank you for coming.” She brushes back her fringe and folds her hands. “Opening a branch here in my home is an achievement I’m forever grateful for. I would like to thank you all greatly for the success it’s brought about.

“Please,” she says, “take the time to immerse yourself in our array of products. Try a new trendy look with Jang Beauty—”

She extends an arm to the variety of products protected under firm glass. There’s powder, eyeliner, and blush. Actually, there’s a little of everything. There’s colors fit for every complexion, dark or light, and a palette of rainbows. 

“—or flaunt your own style with our new arrival bags and purses.”

See, they’re the bags which immediately give the impression of expensiveness. The accessories are reserved to warm or light hues accompanied with Wonyoung’s signature rabbit logo. One even features her signature, stylishly drawn on quality canvas.

“Our helpful staff are here to answer your questions and assist you, but for now, please meet our muses.”

The camera shutters multiply when Kim Jennie enters the frame. Another “it” girl, she’s from a globally loved K-pop group whose influence couldn’t be denied even by the worst liars. She made all the buzz for Jang when a news article that quoted Wonyoung’s adoration for her was released. As expected, social media received the news happily. They made parallels with Wonyoung and Jennie, created fan accounts, and bought from Jang, even if the house initially opened in the United States.

Wonyoung’s smile is wide. You think you see a little of yourself in her. There’s certain pride in seeing someone loved and adored wearing your design. 

Jennie waves briefly to the crowd before settling in a poised stride stage left.

Anya Taylor-Joy comes in next. Rafael makes a joke about how the press would have a difficult time trying to translate her name into Hangul characters correctly. She answers a question from the crowd sweetly with a translator’s help, and stands a yard from Jennie. Seeing the two women side by side stuns you—Jang really did emphasize how there’s beauty in everything and everyone, including those from different sides of the world. 

“And finally, we would like to present Jang’s new ambassador.” Wonyoung’s beaming positively. “Welcome to Jang, Kang Hyewon!”

Suppressed screams fill your ears. The women at the mall can’t believe a friendly outing to the mall grabbed them a chance to see her in person. She’s the kind of girl who’s everywhere, and still manages to make you look. To make you want to be her or be with her. Perhaps those two at the same time?

You stare at her. Hyewon is flawless. Her slight tan is a nice break from the whiteness of the cameras. Her eyes seem to single out everybody in the crowd. The ambassador stands next to Wonyoung, a hand on her own hip, and lets a slight Mona Lisa smile paint her face.

Perfection.

How does she do so little but still attract everyone? You’re not an exception. You find yourself forgetting that you made those clothes—she owns them now. They’ll be associated with her name and not yours. 

Do you even have a problem with that?

“Jang’s vision is to highlight beauty in everyone,” Wonyoung says. “Ms. Kang Hyewon is the perfect ambassador. She is an idol, singer, dancer, model, muse, and everything you can think of. She is the personification of beauty and versatility. We are proud to have her.”

You would be, too.

You were here to make a name for yourself, not fanboy over her. Here you are anyway doing it. 

Hyewon stands next to Wonyoung and nods humbly. “I’m honored to be named the ambassador for Jang.” She bows deeply. Her hands are together on her stomach. “Please expect more from us because we will deliver.”

Perhaps that’s a statement bolder than the red painted on her lips.

“To the name of beauty!” a reporter raises a glass and chugs it. You don’t know where that came from, but it draws collective giggles. 

Wonyoung laughs. “To the name of beauty!”

Hyewon jokingly raises an imaginary shot high in the air. The simplest actions don’t bar her from being beautiful. Just look at how her hair falls perfectly over gorgeous shoulders, how her hips stick out at the sides of the jeans—

How the sound of fabric ripping loudly stuns the crowd.

Your eyes go wide. The left strap of her top has torn apart. The two aidless halves collapse on the sides uselessly. The attire sags from the front and leaks the view of one of her breasts. Maybe they should have told her to keep the bra on—her left tit with nothing but nipple tape on is painfully shown off to hundreds of people. 

Hyewon’s eyes fill with alarm. All confidence is lost as she tries to cover her exposed breast up. But the deed is done. Worse, the flashes don’t stop. The photos will soon take to the internet and, regardless of her power to bend things to their will, can never truly be eradicated. The articles will go viral, too. No one will forget this moment of Kang Hyewon finally showing vulnerability.

“Ms. Kang—” Wonyoung says in a thin voice. She didn’t imagine this special day would take a drastic turn. She awkwardly laughs, because what else can she do? As rich as she is, she can’t pay a crazed scientist to implement a memory-erasing chip in these people’s brains. The event is officially ruined.

And it’s all your fault. 

Still, she generously steps in front of Hyewon to help. Similar to every attempt to salvage her dignity, it’s useless. The ambassador she relied so much on is already walking away. She’s leaving everything behind and won’t look back. Tonight is a night of many firsts, and right now, this is her first time retreating.

Aside from the sounds of phones and camcorders, all that’s left to hear is the furious clicking of Hyewon’s heels. Her strides are short and quick.

One step, five steps, ten steps… then thirteen.

It takes a total of thirteen steps for Hyewon to exit and come to you.

You couldn’t be an unluckier dead man.

-

Hyewon is the grim reaper. She wields fury instead of a scythe, wears now defective clothes instead of a dark cloak. The imminent loss of life is frightening regardless of being faced with a pretty woman. Anyone would get on their knees and resort to the unthinkable to experience this with the celebrity right now. So why are you as cold as a corpse?

“You.” 

One word is enough to make you want to die early.

You look forward while your steps go backward. Your feet can pave the longest reversed path and you’d still be left with no escape. Hyewon is faster than you are. The rest of the staff are in the crowd or in another room; they can’t help you. Nobody can tell her to stop. 

You doubt she’d listen anyway, and you know because you’re looking in her face: the face of death. Gone is the blasé mood surrounding her, the mystery in her that people would pray rosaries to venerate. What’s taken its place is an Ares-born wrath that’s at odds with her Aphrodite visuals. Her eyes are large with anger and short angry rasps leave her mouth. 

“Ms. Kang,” you say, your words a mute plea. “Really, I apologize—” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Hyewon’s forearm knocks into your neck and catapults you to the dressing room door. The wood gives way, much to your horror. You barely make it on the plush chair with how your feet struggle to keep upright. 

She looms over you hauntingly, tall in her black heels. It’s a reminder that she really is above you in everything: positions, status, wealth—

Intimacy? 

Why is she straddling you? You don’t know what you’re supposed to feel, much more where to look. Adding to her center literally being seated above your crotch, she didn’t even bother to fix her wardrobe malfunction. There’s no might left in you when her fingers curl into your collar and tighten it up to your neck. 

“You little shit.” She coils the fabric around your throat harder. Wracked coughs fight their way out of you. “An incompetent one, too. This is all your fault.”

Her voice is rougher when she’s angry. It’s like she has a switch that she clicks on and off to be what she has to be: the Kang Hyewon everyone idolizes; and the one people would be afraid of. It doesn’t take a wicked guess to figure which one you’re encountering now.

“Ms. Kang,” you say weakly, “please.” 

You inhale raggedly through your nose. Hate how comforting her expensive perfume is to your senses when she’s doing everything but making you at ease. Hate how attractive she is. Hate how you ruined the day that was supposed to change your life forever. Hate how a small part of you doesn't hate being under her. 

For others to understand you, they need to put themselves in your shoes. If an A-list star who’s as gorgeous as Hyewon was snugly seated on their lap, wouldn’t they feel the same? Wouldn’t they feel the stir in their pants, the heat in their chests?

You’re fucked in the head. But she is, too. You’re a match made in the depths of hell.

“I-I can explain.”

Your pulse beats beneath her palm. Its faltering rhythm brings cruel satisfaction to her, making her face spread into a wicked smile. 

As Hyewon’s almond eyes close into tyrannizing slits and her lips pull at the ends into a closed smirk, you realize why she rarely grins. You’re fucking terrified. It’s a simper reserved for little satisfaction and great anger. How can a woman be this beautiful yet this cruel?

“Explain then,” she allows. The ampleness of her lips has little distance to your mouth. “But if you think for one second I’m letting you go, you’re as dead as your career.”

Your career never started. You were young once. You had dreams of making yourself known and making your family proud. If today never happened, if your needle seamed the thread just a bit tighter, you still would have had a chance to go on. 

Now you’re neither young nor old, with neither a future or past.

Your dreams are broken, just like her clothes.

“Please, Ms. Kang. I was in a rush. I didn’t think it would undo like that.”

She laughs. It’s another rare occurrence that scares the shit out of you. It transforms into a sarcastic little scoff when she meets your eyes again. “I gave you days. I gave you a fucking chance to prove your worth when I could’ve hired any dickhead out there. And what did you do? You screwed it up.” 

With each word she spits, your collar wrings around you more compactly. You feel hot and breathless but to Hyewon, your skin is deadly cold to the touch. Nevertheless, she doesn’t let up.

“I’ll pay for the damage,” you offer bleakly. “I’ll apologize. I’ll admit that I was wrong to… hahk, to the media.  Just please don’t blacklist me.”

She shakes her head. “That isn’t enough.”

It isn’t? What could you do? You’ve already said you’ll pay more than you can to amend. You told her you’d go to the press and bare your wrongdoings. What else does she want? She already has everything.

“You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?” Hyewon snarls. “You planned it all out.” 

You choke, and it’s not because of her hands digging into your flesh. “N-no! I swear—”

In the olden days, prophecies were told by an oracle. People would go on quests and seal their fates in accordance with them. Now, they’re in the little things, like jokes that suddenly bleed into reality, and, in your case, deja vu.

You say deja vu because you know the sound of ripping fabric all too well. 

It interrupts your words and catches you by surprise. Hyewon has wrenched apart the buttons of your shirt down to your stomach. The band of your underwear peeks out above your pants, as well as the stomach you haven’t taken the time to tone in a while.

“There,” she says. She slinks down your lap till her knees touch the floor and she’s tearing your pants, too. More buttons are sent flying in the air. “Now we’re both naked. Isn’t that what you wanted? To get to say that you fucked Kang Hyewon?”

Your pants add to the pile of clothes and buttons on the ground. You can’t even blush or protest; Hyewon is unstoppable when she’s angry. Her soft hands, unlearned in the ways of hardship, somehow have the strength to cut and slice and pull at your clothing. She’s not leaving one speck of fabric on for modesty. 

“I, I don’t want to fu– to have sex with you, Ms. Kang.” 

“Baby.” Hyewon deadpans, laughing a little as she traces the curve of your cheek. “Everyone wants to fuck me.”

She takes off her shirt and tears off the nipple tapes. Her pretty brown nipples are uncovered, and you can’t stop staring. Her body is a model of perfection in every category. You’ve got her flat tummy, curved waist, wide hips, and breasts that really should have a warning sign lest you harm yourself looking at them. Unfortunately, they don’t have a warning label, and Hyewon catches your wandering eyes.

“Fucking pervert.”

You look away, but there’s nowhere else to stare, so you say, “No, please, I didn’t… no, I didn’t—”

“I know what I saw.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“That’s not how you say it.” Hyewon suddenly wraps her hand around your stiffening cock. Her squeeze is painful. “You sit there, bow your head, and say: ‘Sorry, mommy.’”

You’re flabbergasted. “What?” 

You yowl when she squeezes harder and starts to pump you to full mast. It’s a painful pleasure, a guilty danger. Hyewon’s eyes trained on you are even more so. 

“You heard me. If you want to save your career, do as I say.”

You whimper into the eerie silence as the woman curls her fist around your member as if she were choking it. How did you land into this situation? How were you so fucking stupid that you thought a week would be enough to finish the piece?

Now you’re here, in this enclosed dressing room, with a celebrity cruelly torturing your penis and demanding that you call her mommy. Look to the right then to the left and see that no one’s coming to your rescue. This is the real world, and as absurd as it is, you’re on your own.

Hyewon’s fingernails threaten to pierce the sensitive skin. “Be a good boy,” she growls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mommy.” 

(You mean it, you mean it, you mean it.)

“That wasn’t so hard. But I’m not done with you just yet.” 

She leans forward. Your face twists while she wraps her soft tits around you. Her cleavage is so deep, so full that your length is completely lost in it. You moan embarrassingly, and it’s too late to cover your mouth when she’s already smirking. 

“Because you wanted to see my tits so bad,” she says, rubbing her tits in opposite directions on your member, “I’m gonna fuck you with them. I don’t care if you cum like a little bitch or not; I’m not stopping.”

You’re starting to leak. Hyewon’s sweat combined with your precum lubricates you and allows for more delicious, slippery friction. She pushes herself up and down repeatedly, continuously trapping your cock between her amazing boobs. She could do this forever. On the other hand, you’re close to losing it.

“I’m not gonna stop. You brought this upon yourself. You understand me, don’t you?” 

“Yes.”

A deserved silence. Her eyes speak of an immediate death that follows a wrong answer.

Close your eyes. You know what you’re supposed to say. “Yes, mommy.”

Strangely, she’s exactly the type of woman who deserves that title. Her stony expression doesn’t evaporate from that beautiful face although sweat’s started to roll down it from how mercilessly she titfucks you. She shows no signs of sympathy for your situation. Why would she when she’s accustomed to control, and you’ve just taken that from her? You took her control from the people who’ve made her famous. This is your punishment.

Each pleasured expression you make draws a haughty smile from her. It’s as inspiring as critical acclaim to her, for she cups her tits tighter around your shaft and pumps away. You’re her toy for tonight. If she can’t regain her control over the public, she’ll show you why she deserves to have it:

One, she’s tireless. 

Her lower lip is under her teeth as she spills effort into persecuting your cock. She’s unblinking—she’s too focused on your reactions to close her eyes. It’s not like she’d care if your reaction is violent or pained or good. Hyewon would still go on fucking you.

“Of course you like this.” Spit covers your cockhead, a sign of her distaste. “You perverted virgins are all the same.”

“I’m not perverted, mommy.” 

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’re not a virgin?”

“I’m, n-not a vir—”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

She continues grinding her pillowy breasts on you. Their undersides touch your balls while her nipples brush against your stomach. Whatever move she does makes you shiver. 

If you had no escape from the enigma that is Kang Hyewon, neither did your cock. Her bust makes sure of that. It surrounds it as if determined to suffocate an ejaculation out of it. The precum from your tip just isn’t enough.

Two, she doesn’t rely on anybody.

Nobody told her to fuck you. Nobody told her to strip and use you. Those are the choices she made by herself, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t perform them with dedication. She doesn’t need anybody’s help in ruining you when she can do it herself.

So she does. Hyewon sinfully lets saliva drip from her chin and onto her chest to help speed up what’s already a vicious pace. The cold drool makes you hiss. Her warm breasts are both a reprieve and retribution. They carry out soft comfort but give out your quick punishment at the same time. It’s funny to think how they’re as versatile as she is. 

Three, she’s the only one who’s ever made you cum like this.

“Mommy!” The word was never intended to be said. But it’s unavoidable; Hyewon’s too hasty, and it’s becoming too much. You can’t hold back on letting her know her ownership of you.

You can’t hold back the messiness of your cum as well. Bursts of white jet her chest and her neck. You whimper to your wits’ end and she doesn’t stop in spite of it. She keeps overstimulating you till the leak of semen becomes a mere dribble.

Hyewon climbs on your lap again, her vagina placed just in front of your spent shaft. “You’re getting used to it, huh?”

Your eyes are on her, as everyone else’s are when she’s under the lens of a camera. You’re horrified; almost every part of her torso is covered with your cum. Her tits are coated grandly with strong splashes. The white liquid drools down her tummy, then to her jeans.

You just came on Kang Hyewon.

Push her away, cursing quietly. You’ve no reputation left to save now. No dignity, no image, nothing. You should have fought back. A junior stylist shouldn’t be getting intimate with a superstar. 

“Ms. Kang, I should go,” you stammer. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

None of this was supposed to happen. You wish you could have turned back time and stopped yourself from going to fashion school. If you didn’t go, you wouldn’t have gone on the path of designing and wouldn’t have accepted her invitation to design for her and Jang. It’s all so fucked up that you’re actually reconsidering religion.

Hyewon considers this. To your relief, her professional tone returns. You’re able to breathe now. It’s over.

“You’re not gonna help me clean up?” she says finally.

“Oh… yes, I’m sorry.”

There’s no tissues or washcloths around. You have to be resourceful. It’s painful wiping up something so inappropriate with the shirt you designed, but it’ll do. The semen embeds into the denim during your dutiful clean-up. It’s humiliating—the only thing that comforts you is that, after this, you and Hyewon will part ways and never speak again. You both have something to hold over the other. Keeping your mouths shut will keep you safer than sorrier.

More worries surface. Did someone hear or see you? Are there hidden cameras here? You’ll have to inspect the place, especially after you think you don’t remember Hyewon locking the door.

“Thank you.” Hyewon crosses her arms and looks down at the stained vest that started all of this. “Now suck your cum out of it.”

You want to cry. This is far from over. You’re not done here, and you won’t be until she says so.

She cocks her head. “I paid for it, and I don’t want flaws,” she says matter-of-factly. “So you either suck your filth out now or I might just drop the Somun magazine editor a visit.”

Stare at her with tear-filled eyes. What can you do?

Attach your lips to the blemished denim. Suck on it forcefully. The taste brings more tears and some even slide in pathetic drops down your face. How did it all come to this? The amount of hard work you put in school surely did not earn you this, right?

You were raised too soft. Maybe hanging out with the rebellious boys back in elementary would have saved you her domination. You could have negotiated with her, maybe even argued that you weren’t allowing this to happen to you. But those happen in parallel universes, where you’re a little stronger, a little wiser. Here, you’re just a man who’s not particularly excellent. 

“Good job,” Hyewon says. “I guess you’re not that much of a lost cause.”

Her backhanded praise is sweet to your ears rather than mocking.

She clicks her tongue. “All that cum should have went in my pussy, you know.” 

You hang your head to hide your blush. You’re glad thoughts aren’t visually presented. Otherwise, Hyewon would put you down further. 

Hyewon places a finger below your chin and tilts it up. You’re forced to meet her eyes. There comes all the hate again. It pours into your heart freely like a fountain. It’s not hate for her, but for yourself. If you didn’t crumple that easily for women like Hyewon—women who like control and give orders and get a kick out of humiliating other people—maybe a whole other fate would have been in store for you.

Fright always gives way to yearning. She’s a bitch who thinks too highly of herself, although understandably so. She hurt you so much and through it all, you still want to hear her praise you.

She smiles. 

Yep, Kang Hyewon is irredeemably, irrevocably evil.

“And you owe me a whole lot of it,” she says, and adds, in a sickeningly sweet voice, “baby boy.”

No horror film can scare you like she does. She’s a phantom of beauty and power who will haunt you forever. All this could be done and you’d still think about her. You’ve become another one of Hyewon’s fanatics who allows her to do anything and everything to them. 

Hyewon shoves you on the dressing table. The cold white surface cools your skin, but you know it’s about to get heated soon. She’s spanned her legs over your hips again. Her aggressive hands grip your shoulders. Somehow, you never want them to leave your touch. 

Then you’re kissing her. The other way around, you mean—Hyewon initiates it by closing the distance and biting your lip. She’s a starved kisser who devours you like a wolf. Her tongue curls around yours and she dives in deeper. You’re deprived of any breath, any source of oxygen. Part your lips to kiss her back, but she’s already locked her mouth on them.

Hyewon sweeps her hair back, readying herself for the final act. If mirrors could blush, you have no question that they would upon seeing her. Attractiveness is a natural thing to her—you can see it in the sway of her arms, the thickness of her thighs, and the way she carries herself. She acts like she’s entitled to everything, and that includes your cock.

She’s too fucking hot that you’d ignore all her cons and give it up to her.

She knows that. She circles her core around your tip. You moan immediately. She feels so good, and you’re not even inside her yet. 

“You like that?” she sneers after she pulls away. “You like my pussy on your cock?”

She grinds her slit along your cockhead. Her moans are surprisingly sensitive, high in pitch and airy. You’re granted exclusive listening to them when you hit her clit. She moves it there particularly, because those moaned questions she asked you are just for her own ego. She only cares for her own pleasure, and it just so happens to be ignited by a weak man whose type is crazy, unhinged women. Whose type just so happens to be her.

She’s so wet that sounds of drenched squeaks fill your ears. You’re nothing else except certain that she really, really gets off on being such a bitch. Her wicked leer couldn’t ever fade from her face, not if you keep flashing those exhausted needy expressions.

“Answer me,” Hyewon says. She glides her fingertips from your broad shoulders to your neck. A threatening grip, a deadly fate. “You know mommy doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Do you want me to ride your cock, hm?” Every fragment she speaks makes her choke you harder. She’ll send you to heaven then hell, where you’ll meet her all over again. “Do you want me to keep you inside me until I’m all done and satisfied?”

“Yes… oh fuck, please!”

“I fucking thought so.”

She sinks herself down in one go. You cry out. Hyewon’s tight pussy welcomes you and traps you right up to the hilt. The hard grip of her cunt disallows you a break; her pace is one of anger that’s unrelenting and harsh. 

Her thighs crash down on your lap and rise, a cycle that never ends. You’re left even more breathless by her soft breasts smothering you. It’s the best way to go out. They bounce marvelously in front of your face, your nose pressed to the little space between them and your mouth kissing wherever it can. You lick at her tits until you’ve licked all the cum that might have remained on them. 

Your lips attach themselves to her nipple. As an effect, the star’s cunt clamps around you with the hold of a guilty pleasure, a taboo vice. It doesn’t intend on letting go unless you decide you want it to go. But you have the feeling that your probable pleas won’t budge Hyewon’s heart. 

“Mommy’s baby boy,” Hyewon says. Her tightness grows and so does the volume of her heavy gasps. “Mommy’s slutty baby boy who’d do anything to get this pussy.”

You want to tell her that what she said is far from the truth. You didn’t want to cause a wardrobe malfunction. You didn’t want to anger her. But now, when presented with the heat of her impossibly wet vagina, you realize you actually would. You try to meet her expectations, nursing on her nipple and guiding her movements with your hands on her wide hips. What you want is for this to be enough, but it just isn’t. Hyewon always wants more.

You can see it in the crash of her butt on your thighs, the shouty cries that she lets go of, the grip on your neck that she doesn’t. A woman accustomed to the scrutiny of the public eye would never let a strand of her hair go knotted. But when it comes to punishing people, to making them the accessory she carries, she doesn’t care anymore. Her usually prepared and counted movements become frantic. Her quietness isn't a  case of the current times when she’s using you as her little fucktoy. 

Kang Hyewon is a mess, and you are, too.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your yells crack and fade—she doesn’t.

Hyewon doesn’t let up. Her fluttering walls make sure to leave your legs stagnant. You can feel her manicured nails scrape your skin and her thin legs hug your hips. The hours she spends in the gym can’t be that long for her stamina to remain this strong. Maybe she has a personal trainer, a healthy diet. Maybe she owns some weights around the house.

Maybe she owns you.

“You sound pathetic. Just keep sucking those tits.” She removes her hand from the base of your neck, but leaves you asphyxiated anyway when she pushes her face into her breasts. 

The mirror bears your combined weight. You try to lift your head. Hyewon chases your movements. You’re forced to inhale through your nostrils, taking in her powdery perfume and lightly sweaty scent, and keep your mouth busy on her boobs. 

You flick her nipple with your tongue. She holds you to her chest and promises no escape. To be fair, you could stay here, smothered by her breasts forever. You’d have little complaint when they’re heavy and soft and sweaty. Your mouth stays attached to them and brings her on the road to orgasm.

“Greedy little boy,” Hyewon scoffs. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? I bet you held it out just so I could keep riding you.”

Your cock feels sore already. Although her insides are warm and soaked enough for the entering and leaving to be slick, you’ve been trying to hold back for so long you think you’ll cry. You have to tell her. Perhaps it’ll lessen her anger. 

“I’m gonna cum, please, mommy.”

She cruelly bounces faster. Her hips are that of a veteran dancer’s, grinding to and fro and rotating. You’ve figured it out: the reason why she’s never had a dating scandal is that no man would be able to handle her. She’d drain him nightly. She’d treat him like a sex toy to use when she pleases. Everyone wants to be hers, but no one is ready for her.

“Do you deserve to cum inside this perfect pussy?” she asks. She splays her lips and grinds upwards. You groan loudly. “You’re lucky if I even spit on you. What makes you think you can explode in mommy?”

“Please, I’ll do anything!” You tighten your core to hold it back. It’s useless. Your orgasm is coming anytime now, and Hyewon won’t let it happen. “Mommy, let me cum, mommy, please!”

She slaps you across the face. Why did the sting turn you on? You’d argue her words sting more. “You made me look like a cheap slut out there!” Hyewon shouts. “I gave you a chance and you ruined it, you little shit. So now you have to earn your fucking worth!” 

Her riding becomes intense by the minute. She was angry earlier, and now she’s furious. You’re her canvas for a fuming painting. But in her eyes, you’re not a masterpiece. She’ll do away with you to the point of destruction. You’re very near to crumbling.

“I’ll do anything, please!”

You’re desperate. Your stomach’s starting to ache from the violence. You can’t quite feel your legs. All you feel is an impending heat that squeezes your insides. Your hips jerk needily and tears fall from your face. This is the first time you’ve felt this humiliated and aroused. Something about Hyewon makes the two emotions merge and leaves you wanting more.

Hyewon’s close to cumming, too. She’s shaking as her chaotic bounces are sloppier than before. “Say it, say you’re my little boy toy! Say you’re a slut for mommy!”

You’re a quivering body beneath the celebrity. You’re letting her use your cock and choke you and slap you, all without repercussions. There’s only one kind of man that would let someone do that to them. You can’t believe you’ve become one.

“Yes, yes, mommy owns my cock!” you scream, nodding over and over. “I’m her toy and she can do w-whatever she wants to me, I won’t mind!” 

Her juices roll down your cock and wet your pubic area. She’s spiraling out of control. The only thing she can control is you, making you say the most humiliating things. Her wild eyes lock onto yours, and through them you could finally see some backstory: Kang Hyewon was born into wealth and control, and she’ll die with them, too. She’ll always fight to have them when they’re taken away from her. She isn’t afraid to cross limits.

“Yes, yes, yes! More!”

“I only want mommy’s pussy even if I don’t deserve it! I only do what she says, I’ll give up everything to be mommy’s plaything, please!”

When she cums, she looks frenzied, shaking all over the place and spasming around you. Her cries of pleasure become erratic. They almost sound not human. A human would not dare do what she does to you. She fucks you like an animal, frightens you like a supernatural phenomenon, and moves like the waves of the sea.

Kang Hyewon is out of this world. You’re an unnamed rock floating in the galaxy she navigates.

You bust just the second she removes herself from you. Abashing strings of sticky whiteness land all over yourself. They’re paired with needy groans that you can’t stop even if you wanted to. 

Hyewon observes your ejaculation unamusedly. She takes a step backward when a jet of cum sprays in her direction. Look down at yourself—look down at your lap and the table blotted with your orgasm—and think of how dirty you are. You’re so dirty and pitiable that you came all over yourself, like you just masturbated in front of her. That’s why she doesn’t want to touch you.

“Y-you didn’t let me cum inside,” you say disappointedly. You did everything, said everything, and risked everything for nothing. An orgasm isn’t worth it when it isn’t done inside Hyewon.

“Like I said,” Hyewon replies, apathetic, “you don’t deserve it.”

Stare at her. It’s through staring at her with surprise that you realize you’re dirty on the inside, too. Hyewon can live her life secludedly and fade from the industry. She can leave this country, reinvent herself, marry somewhere, and you’d still be thinking about her. You’d always think of this night that left her appearance and yourself ruined.

That’s her charm. She’s permanently going to be in your mind—you’ll always picture her wet cunt, her alluring breasts, her beautiful face. You’ll strive for her again and again while she doesn't even care if you live or die.

Women like her… why do they have to be who you want?

“You have no future in this industry,” she continues. 

She pulls her jeans up her legs and slips the button through the hole. Oh, you really will remember this night. You see you and Hyewon in the little things. She searches through the closet for a spare shirt. Watch her slim fingers that previously wrapped like ribbons around your throat now wrap around a hanger. She slips her arms through the tweed coat and seals it around the front.

“But your drawings aren’t… horrible,” she says. That’s the best compliment you can get from her. You know not to expect more. She shrugs as she closes the buttons together. “Maybe you’ll end up as a painter.” 

A painter? You’re a fashion designer, not Van Gogh. Dresses and pants are your forte. You can’t switch to a whole new job when sewing is what you know.

Your heart sinks. You really broke the first step to a career you worked your whole life for. It’s just not your path to take anymore. 

Hyewon looks around for something to write with. She settles for the eye pencil lying on a table. She forces you to open your palm and writes something on it. She closes your fingers above it.

“There you go. Consider this a farewell gift.”

She came into your life fast and she exits it just as fast. You can’t help but feel a strange sense of yearning. After all she’s done, you don’t want her to go. Why do you despise her departure when you prayed for it earlier?

Who would take you now?

You sigh. Peek at your hand curiously. In tidy handwriting, Hyewon’s message says:

KIM MINJU - CURATOR

XXX - XXX - 2001

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers and their babies (including partner's pregnancy)

TW: no?

Characters: Jedidiah Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspels ♡

Jedidiah Sawyer

• Jed spent all his free time with you; he always felt very comfortable in your company. Therefore, when your condition deteriorated sharply, he became worried. Frequent migraines; morning vomiting; refusal of some food that you, as a guy knew, loved very much; swelling and bad mood. Sawyer was seriously scared and immediately let his mother know about it; Verna always understood her son without words.

• When the woman talked to you, she mentally made some conclusions, but she didn't say anything to you, much less to Jed. The only thing she gave you some instructions to ease your condition: less housework, loose clothes, rest and the absence of human meat in the diet.

• After a while, when your belly became a little more noticeable, Verna talked to you about this topic, but asked not to bring Jedidiah up to date; Sawyer mom didn't know how the boy would react to this news.

• When the deadline was slowly approaching, she personally sent you to the hospital. Thanks to the connections of her new man, she was able to provide you with a place in good conditions.

• Jed was very restless. Why did you leave? Are you tired of him? Was he rude or did he hurt you? Please come back, he will definitely try harder, he will be a good boy!

• After a relatively easy delivery, you were in the hospital for a week. Back at the Sawyer house, you were greeted by a terrified Jed. He came out of the basement, painfully looking at you with his eyes-coals and twisting his fingers. His whole body showed uncertainty and fear, he was afraid to let you down, that you would leave again. But inwardly, Jed was so glad you were back. You're not leaving him anymore, are you?

• "Jed. This is our baby," you babble, gently looking at the child.

• Only now does the guy notice the bundle in your hands. Baby? Your baby? Your common child. . ?

• You hold out the baby to Jed, and Verna helps gently lay the baby in his arms. Jed can't believe his eyes. In his arms now lies a little snuffling miracle, his child, no, your child, the fruit of your and Jed's love. And is it really true? Jedidiah begins to gently sway from side to side, as his mother once soothed him during nightmares. He looks at the wrinkled little man with eyes full of love and all kinds of tenderness.

• "You're gonna be a great dad, Jed," you say, kissing the guy on the cheek.

• Only now does he understand your past state. You didn't leave him, you just went to the hospital! All the time he couldn't do anything, you were carrying your child, fighting for his life.

• Jed looks up at you and you see his copper eyes filled with confidence and readiness for this responsibility. He won't let you down. You will be wonderful parents. Together.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo notices that you've been getting more and more nervous and short-tempered lately. Usually after dinner you sit on the sofa with him and coo softly, laying your head on his chest; now you immediately go to your shared bedroom and fall asleep or spend the rest of the evening there, at least when Bo comes into the room, you will already be asleep, curled up in a duvet.

• Usually Bo does not take into account someone else's mood and puts himself first; because of this, you have frequent conflicts, which, in most cases, end with your hysteria. With this outcome, the man hugs you and presses you to his body, stroking your back and apologizing countless times. Still, it's hard for him to get used to the fact that someone else in this house has a fickle character.

• After a couple of weeks, he begins to notice the plumpness of your lower abdomen. He thinks it's cute. Therefore, with your subsequent proximity, he certainly bites your soft flesh.

• In the third month, he already begins to think about your condition. You spend most of the day in your room and only occasionally go out to your brothers, usually to cook a meal and also quickly go upstairs with a full plate. It's not like you! Without your presence, the Sinclair meal turned into a simple quick swallowing of food; no one else enjoyed the meal; there were no jokes, stories, advice and other nonsense that had annoyed Bo up to that point. Now he just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.

• You ask Bo to go to the city with you, to which he actively agrees, and you buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy. Even though you already knew the answer, you wanted to show it to Sinclair. Two stripes. "That's what it turns out. . . Am I going to be a father?"

• The man is proud, very proud and incredibly happy! With the available money, Bo starts buying neutral furniture for the child and various things for you (up to some snotty magazines with cute actors' faces).

• Bo gave you full access to his closet: after all, you've always loved his clothes, especially big T-shirts, which can now make it easier for you to dress with a slowly growing stomach.

• Bo fulfills your every whim. No matter how stupid he is, a man understands that carrying a child is a huge job that requires a lot of effort, so now you are deprived of almost all the responsibilities (he threw off cooking to Lester, and Vincent considered a man who, with his love for beauty, will be able to clean this house wonderfully).

• He doesn't stop teasing Vincent: "Ha, freak! Have you seen that? Have you seen that?! I'm going to be a father, damn it! And you continue to sit and rot among your empty paintings!". After that, you scold Bo and calm Vincent down. "Vinny, this will be your nephew. I'm sure you'll make a good uncle." This significantly affects Bo's self-esteem.

• When Bo finally picks you and the baby up from the hospital, he doesn't let the baby out of his arms for a good five hours. He gives up immediately after he hears the shrill howl of the baby.

• With all his dislike of strong noise, he becomes a good father. At least he knows how to feed a baby, although otherwise he should learn.

• As soon as the child takes the first steps, Bo begins to tell him about the city, in particular about the museum. The kid just looks at his father as if he's crazy.

Thomas Hewitt

• During your pregnancy, Tommy's favorite way to show his support: he picks up your body and puts it on his lap, pressing his back to his chest; his head is buried in the curve of your shoulder and neck; his hands cover your palms on your voluminous stomach.

• Both before and after pregnancy and childbirth, Tommy carries you in his arms. He tries not to leave you alone for more than half an hour.

• You have to give birth right in this house, the nearest city is very far away, and the old man Hoyt does not want to shine. Fortunately, it all ends well.

• Thomas looks at the little man in your arms for a couple of minutes. Flushed, wrinkled skin; clenched fists; kicking feet; squeezed eyes and a piercing scream. This child is literally from one and a half of his palm!

• Hewitt quickly gets used to the smallness of this creature and cradles the child in his arms with uncharacteristic tenderness and caution — Tommy treats the baby like a crystal vase, which, with a little pressure, will burst, crumbling into thousands of small fragments. Although with his superhuman strength, it probably would have been.

• Tommy watches you breastfeed with fascination; it makes you blush a little. A man with unprecedented zeal and interest looks after all your manipulations in relation to the baby. In the end, after a while, he also begins to perform these actions well.

• "Tommy, I need to go out for a while. Luda-May needs help. Can you babysit with [baby's name]?". He nods. When you come back, you see Thomas snuffling on the bed. He put one hand under his head, the other covered your child, who, apparently, followed the example of his daddy and now also drooled on the pillow. Such a cute scene.

• Who would have thought that a Texas maniac with a chainsaw is capable of such tenderness?

• When a child turns two, you stop putting him in the crib at night, and put him between you and Tommy. Hewitt clasps your hands together and covers the baby with them, creating an improvised barrier.

• Thomas turns out to be a very attentive and caring father. He treats the baby carefully and tries in every way to please him/her. Besides, when the three of you are alone in the room, he takes off his mask! The kid feels his father's face curiously.

• The man is still worried that his illness may manifest itself in the child.

• Unexpectedly, but your child and Thomas' favorite game is hide—and-seek. It looks especially strange when a man two meters tall and wide enough in girth is trying to hide.

• Yes, when your baby turned four, Thomas taught him to human flesh.

• The best toy? Daddy's chainsaw!

Okay, it was something a little strange, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

[leah-lover]

Closed for maintenance. Leah williamson × reader.

This is part 2. I took a gamble on the ending. If you don't like it tell me so that I can change it.

PS: thank you for all the support ❤️❤️.

I woke up the next day with a painful headache. The light painfully affected my eyes as soon as I opened them. At first I didn't take in my surroundings, all I thought about was the pain. Then suddenly it all came back, the party, the drinks, Leah, the kiss. Holy shit Leah I kissed Leah. “Oh no why do I do this why the hell do I always do this. Fuck.” I cursed at myself. Then I jolted up. This is not my room, it's probably Leah's. I quickly inspected the room, no longer feeling the pain in my head as I was preoccupied with the trouble I got into. I then noticed a note that said “ good morning beautiful, come join me in the kitchen.” 

I got up to refresh my hair. I was still in yesterday's clothes, so I just tidied myself and went out to join her.

I was met with the cutest sight in the world. Leah blasting ABBA, dancing and cooking what looks like eggs. With the biggest smile on my face I said “ good morning cap.”. She embarrassed turned down the music and replied “ good morning to you sleepy head, you were drunk last night so I brought you home I am not sure if you remember “

“ I do remember everything despite the earth shaking headache I am experiencing right now.” I added, which made her nervous. 

“ Leah the pan it's burning.” I pointed out. “Shit. Oh god. What are we gonna do?” she said while putting the pan in the sink.

“ Well I guess the girls are having brunch, maybe we should join them.” I suggested, afraid of the outcome of us being alone.

“ Good Idea I am gonna go get ready you tell the girls we are coming together, I mean yeah…., not together like in the same car I guess.” She blurred out while going up the stairs.

On our way to the restaurant Leah seemed nervous, she kept fidgeting with the console not knowing what to do. I just ignored the tension and stared at the window.

Once we arrived we were greeted by Katie. “ Look who just showed up in yesterday's clothes late.” She said,

“ Katie fuck off please and thank you.”She replied, ushering me to an empty seat and pushing the chair out for me. “Such a gentleman “ said Katie, which earned her a stern look from Leah.

The conversation flew rather quickly, and the girls grew tired and started to leave one by one. After a while I was left with Leah alone.

“ We need to talk about what happened yesterday, it is eating at me.” She started, “ it , you, have been eating at me since you joined. You are one of if not the most beautiful human beings I know. You are kind, sweet, and confident. You are a leader and a good friend. I ….” She added before I stopped her when I put a finger on her mouth. 

“ I need you to listen to me Leah. I can't let this go far. I have been in a relationship with my teammate. It has ruined my career. I left Chelsea because of my relationship with Niamh. I lost friends because they were hers first. I was left alone. I like the family here at arsenal. I don't want to lose that. Plus my heart is closed. I don't want a relationship. I can't handle a relationship right now.” I said with tears falling down my cheek.

“hey it's okay. It's not gonna be like that. Here at Arsenal what is mine is theirs. We have formed a group with Katie, Caitlain, Lia, Alessia,and Steph. What is mine is theirs and vice versa. That fact is known within the team. They won't only be my friends they will be your family. You won't be isolated. If god forbid something happened. Do you understand me?” She said, nervousness was apparent  on her face.

I stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do. “ If you are not up to it that's okay.” She said, worry in her face. “ I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to understand more.” I replied.

“ Let's go to  Katie's house, there you will understand.” She added, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the restaurant.

And right then and there a new chapter in my life began.

[ronwestbreeze]

you're gonna go far | 6

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 8.5k

read on AO3

It was a little difficult to get out of bed that morning.

One of those days.

Long and exhausting. It was challenging to get stuff done. You knew things like this wouldn’t just go away instantly. But you hoped that maybe…

It wasn’t too bad like before. You were able to think about the chores that had to be done later in the day and pushed yourself out of the bedroom.

So you went through most of the day barely existing. Norm was the first to notice your slight change in behavior because he began trying to joke more with you—no matter how bad they ended up being—and tried getting you out of your head. And you were thankful for that. At least that’s what was different this time around. You weren’t entirely alone nor held up in your room.

That was progress, right? You honestly couldn’t tell. Sometimes you felt like you were still stuck, that you weren’t moving forward. Or getting better. At least back to what you used to be.

Yet, you’ve been this way—asleep—for so long that you have forgotten what you used to be like. You forgot when the last time you smiled. You forgot when you felt the most happy or any other emotion besides anger and grief.

You wondered where that part of you went. Some days you went searching. Other days you somberly accepted that it was a part of you, that you were never going to get back.

At some point, you figured it died along with your mother.

“You want me to check on the baby today?” Norm asked you as you were getting ready for your link for the day.

You shook your head as you sat on the link bed, “No, I’ll be fine. Just one of those days, you know? We all have em’.”

He frowned when you shrugged it off or appeared a little too nonchalant about it, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Thanks for offering though.”

“Anytime, Doc.” He gave you a pat on the shoulder, while watching you particularly closely, “Just tell me you need a break. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

He was nice. You needed something like that.

Neytiri noticed it too.

While the two of you were in the garden that day, Neytiri had been saying words in Na’vi for you to repeat. And you did it, not perfectly of course, but you managed. It was just that you didn’t take in any information. Not in the way she knew you to.

You had a certain look that told Neytiri you were hanging onto her every word, whenever you were learning something new from her. Eyes slightly vibrant with curiosity.

That look wasn’t there today. Instead, in its place was a dullness and lifeless sort of unfocused gaze.

Your ears were low again.

Neytiri didn’t know when she became so attentive to your moods or facial expressions. So much so that she could tell when you were somewhat happy and really, painfully sad—

You were just easy to read in this form.

Yes, that was it.

“What is wrong, tanhi?” Neytiri eventually asked because she didn’t completely despise you so much to ignore your change in mood.

There was a twitch in your ears when you heard your name being called. You looked up from the newly planted mushroom seeds you had been mentally counting at Neytiri to find her staring at you expectantly. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes, “You are not listening. I know you are distracted. What is wrong with you?”

You cringed at yourself for allowing yourself to get so distracted by your swimming thoughts. Drowning in them as usual. “It’s nothing. Just have a lot on my mind.”

But the answer did not satisfy her. Neytiri shook her head, “Sky People are always hiding their feelings. You are doing that. It is okay to be sad. It is natural.”

“I’m not hiding it—” You sighed, turning your gaze back to the mushroom seeds. “It’s just one of those days. Maybe—Maybe today I am sad. I could barely get out of bed and tomorrow it might be worse—what are you doing?”

You watched as Neytiri got up and moved behind you. A second later, you feel a brief tugging at your hair until it became loose from your short braid. “If you want to learn our ways, then you must take care of your hair. I look at it and it is a mess.”

“It was in a braid before…”

“I did not like it.”

With that, she got up again and trekked back into the forest. You watched her go in bewilderment at the sudden change of conversation and attitude from the Na’vi woman. You had no idea what had come over the woman or what made her suddenly leave, but you didn’t focus on it for too long. The confusion and startlement you had was enough energy to continue planting the rest of the mushrooms. You didn’t bother putting your hair back into a braid, not wanting to spend time threading through the thick strands until your fingers were too sore to complete your job. And the last thing you needed was something stopping you from finishing this one simple task—

A splash of cold water was suddenly dumped onto your head, leaving you soaking wet.

And terribly pissed.

You snapped your head behind you to find Neytiri placing the leaf down next to her—which was glistening with water. The same water that was now spilled all over you.

“Neytiri—ouch!”

“Hold still.” Neytiri hissed at you as she ran her long fingers through your hair.

You grumbled but reluctantly listened, still confused and a bit pissed at what was going on. And for a while, the two of you remained there. You, sitting on the ground still counting the seeds quietly to yourself while Neytiri stayed behind you. Braiding a few strands of hair.

It was then you realized just how different your hair was from the way it was in your human body. The hair length was very similar to how you used to wear it when you were a teenager. You wondered then just how old this avatar body was.

Once she was finally finished, she crouched down in front of you to get a better look. Her yellow irises scanning your face and her work. Tucking rebellious strands behind your ear, patting down some of the fuzziness, and making sure the braid was visible around your face.

You watched her quietly. And soon, when she was done obsessing over your hair, she watched you too.

It wasn’t the way you and Jake watched each other. This—this had something different about it.

Time was an illusion here. Trapped in her yellow gaze. You hadn’t realized you had been staring for so long—nor did you realize you had briefly glanced at her lips—until a sudden sound from the forest pulled the both of you out of this strange trance.

And once you snapped to your senses, your body quickly reacted. You shot to your feet and cleared your throat, “I gotta check on the avatar now.” You didn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll see you.”

Before she could stop you, you already scurried off. Stopping once you were far enough away out of her sight.

Stopping when you felt a new pair of eyes watching you rather closely.

You glanced around the forest surroundings as you approached the longhouse with a frown until your eyes locked on another pair of yellow eyes. Severe ones.

Tsu’tey was in the trees further away but enough for you to see him watching you, even when you caught him doing so. He did not look away from you. Narrowed eyes and that scowl resting on his angular face.

For a moment you wondered what the look was for. You wondered what he could yell at you about this time, even though you listened to his demands and had stayed away from the Omatikaya territory.

A scared part of you wondered if he had seen you and Neytiri just now.

Nothing happened. But still, it would give enough ammunition for him to verbally attack you. Hate you even more possibly.

Except there would be no battle today. As Tsu’tey disappeared within the trees without a word.

You were confused but relieved at the same time.

Dealing with an angry clan leader was not on your to-do list. Nor were you properly prepared for it.

After watching the trees in silence, you eventually went inside.

Neytiri watched your retreating figure with a frown, her heart…shifting—only a little bit as you disappeared. Her gaze then moved toward the trees, the area where the sound had come from before. And with an irritated frown, she got up and stalked toward the area.

They were still there. She could feel their eyes on her as she went further into the forest. With a hiss, she glared at the trees, “Come out. Enough hiding!”

Just a little bit above her, a few feet away a familiar warrior snaked out of the bushes and seated himself on the large branch with his usual expression he wore whenever he was away from their shared hut.

Neytiri frowned up at Tsu’tey, “You are watching me.”

“I am watching her.”

After a beat and a quiet sigh, Neytiri climbed up the tree and joined him. Despite his very sour mood, he tugged her close to his side as they sat together. On the branch, they had a good view of the Avatar Compound. A few dreamwalkers were running about but none of them seemed to bother Tsu’tey as much as you did. Neytiri could easily tell with how he kept glaring at the longhouse, the same place she always watched you disappear in whenever you left your false body.

“You have been spending time with her,” Tsu’tey stated more so than asking. There wasn’t much to hide, they both knew Neytiri spent some of her free time visiting you. Only when Tsu’tey or Jake are busy with their duties and she’s finished with hers before the both of them. “I do not like it.”

“She has done nothing.” Neytiri reasoned.

“Yet.”

“And what did I say if she does? I would kill her myself.”

As she said this, Neytiri felt a certain wavering in her heavy words. Like a part of her didn’t believe it anymore.

She rested her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm with a content sigh, “But I cannot ignore what the Great Mother has shown me. She has stopped my bow before and now she’s done it a second time. Do you not think it means something, yawne?”

In the corner of her, she watched as his jaw tightened, his features becoming particularly focused. “I do not trust this.”

“You do not trust the Great Mother?”

“That is not what I mean.” He corrected her calmly. Neytiri knew that Tsu’tey, like any other child of Eywa respected her and trusted in her signs. Always had. That was how he was raised. And she knew he wasn’t about to abandon that because of one demon.

But his words were still reluctant, “I do not know where our Great Mother is leading us. I do not know why she wants that demon spared—when she is just like the rest of them.”

Neytiri considered his words, “Perhaps she is like Jake—”

“There is only one Jake. And she is nothing like him.”

She made a sound of disagreement but didn’t push further on the subject. She noticed how tense he was, how tense he had been for the past week. She wondered then if he was truly upset by this or if there was something more to this quiet anger he so carefully restrained. Of course, his hatred for the Sky People was no question.

But Neytiri knew Tsu’tey.

Skin and bone. Heart and soul.

She knew her mate. Not only as a mate but as a friend. They had grown up together. Along with her sister, Sylwanin. There was nothing he could hide from her even if he tried.

“She may not be like Jake. But clearly, the Great Mother has chosen her for a reason. My mother even allows her to stay—I believe it is time you seek the answers.”

Tsu’tey scoffed but didn’t brush her off. Instead, he leaned in closer, allowing his hand to rest on her growing stomach. “You will be a great Tsahik.”

“Not as great as my mother. Nor my sister.”

Tsu’tey shook his head and cupped her cheek, “You will be great, my beautiful heart.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips only to falter when she noticed how exhausted he truly looked. How close he looked to breaking but hiding it. He could never hide it well from her. Nor Jake.

She then took his face in her hands and whispered soothingly, “What is it, my love?”

Knowing that there was no point in denying a response—knowing that Neytiri would not stop until she got what she wanted—Tsu’tey turned away from her to stare back at the compound.

“The Tipani clan are becoming reckless. They already do not like the Sky People that have stayed—but now that the demon has come, I worry they will begin to take matters into their own hands. I worry…that our clans will begin to clash.”

Neytiri took his hand in hers and pressed a gentle kiss onto his knuckles, “If it comes to it, I will stand by you. Jake will too. But I also will ask you to speak to our Great Mother about your troubles.” She caressed his exhausted lines with a small frown, “I worry for you, Tsu’tey. I do not want you to take on this task by yourself. You have Jake and I to be with you. That is why Eywa brought us together.”

Right then, he seemed to consider her words. His gaze was still unfocused while staring at the longhouse. A silence settled between them.

“Eywa has created this new path for us.” Tsu’tey mused. “Somedays I wonder if it will lead to something good in the end.”

“Do you think it won’t?”

He was silent. And Neytiri didn’t push.

When Tsu’tey went to the Vitraya Ramunong, the night had already settled around him. When he went to kneel at the tree, connecting his queue to one of the links, his prayers were silent. But his questions were clear. His intention was pure to the Great Mother.

What does it all mean? Guide me, All Mother.

So when a single atokirina flew away from the tree, Tsu’tey took to following it both out of curiosity and apprehension. The Great Mother’s answers weren’t always clear. If anything, her signs only led to more questions.

So, Tsu’tey wondered. He wondered if this would lead to any more answers.

Or just more unwanted questions.

Tsu’tey rushed through the forest, never losing sight of the spirit. He kept going and going until he was nearing the Sky People’s base. Until the trees suddenly became familiar. Until the grounds he had seen many times before unwillingly began to appear around him.

But his body never stopped moving. He never stopped following it. Too desperate for answers. Too desperate, too yearning.

Oh Eywa, he was yearning.

And then, and then, and then.

And then he was staring down at your still false body.

It was strange. Seeing no life in your face. Tsu’tey had only seen your false body from far away, but now seeing you up close. You looked so different yet the same as your human form.

Why was he here? Why did the spirit bring him to…

No.

No.

No.

His vision rippled. Your body morphed from your human form to your false body—impossible.

And then he woke up.

Awake.

Awake.

Awake.

Tsu’tey finally realized where he was. Instead of standing in the middle of the forest chasing an atokirina, instead of standing over your false body, he was back in his hut. With his mates sleeping next to him. With his son cuddled between both Jake and him. With Neytiri hugging his waist from behind.

A dream. It was only a dream.

But why you? Why you?

Why?

“Yawne?” Tsu’tey breathed out a sigh and looked over his shoulder to find Jake shifting out of his sleep, looking at him through heavy eyelids. He sat up a bit, careful not to disturb Neteyam’s sleep as he did, “Another nightmare?”

Tsu’tey hesitated—considered the question. The dream he just had. Was it a nightmare?

“No. I am fine. Go back to sleep, my love.”

Jake didn’t look entirely convinced but eventually lied back down. Usually, it took a while for Jake to fall asleep, so Tsu’tey lay back down, adjusting Neytiri’s arm around his waist and squeezing his other hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jake asked, his voice deep and sluggish.

Tsu’tey nodded, and tucked his nose into Neteyam’s cheek as gently as he could, “I am now.”

It took you a little longer to get out of bed the following week. But you managed. You watched a few more of your mother’s logs and even some of the other ones still in the system.

Dr. Augustine. Norm. Some guy named Quaritch. And then there was Jake Sully.

As a human.

You paused the video to examine his face. You suppose the traits matched his now blue form. The only difference was that instead of his longish dreads, he had a buzz cut in the video. And a tattoo poking out of his short sleeve shirt.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget his face for the time being.

You also tried not to think about the fact that Neytiri hadn’t been back for about a week now. Which was normal. You didn’t overthink it. Especially not after that moment—

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget your thoughts about her.

Then you remembered Tsu’tey. Him watching you so closely. You hoped he didn’t see you and Neytiri. Frankly, you weren’t sure what would happen if he did know.

He’d kill you. That’s for sure.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget all three of them.

When you finally got out of bed, you continued with your regular schedule and tried to think of literally anything else. You tended to your garden by yourself and continued checking the baby.

There was a bit of determination for yourself, to keep moving. To not stay in one place any longer or else you’d be stuck.

And you weren’t sure if you’d make it out if you did.

Jake continued visiting the tank room whenever he could.

Today was one of them. Only this time you made it before he did.

“How’s the baby?”

You glanced up briefly from your notes, “Healthy. It might be because Na’vi babies might grow faster in pregnancy—judging by that we might have a couple more months before it’s born.”

Jake nodded, his face serious, “Anything else?”

For a brief second you didn’t respond, too caught up in your thoughts until you realized he had asked you a question. Jake tilted his head, brows furrowed at you.

You shook your head eventually, “No, everything’s all normal.”

He stared at the belly for a moment longer before he left. You were somewhat surprised at his quick retreat but didn’t think much about it. He was some type of great warrior, he was probably busy with something else in his clan. If it meant that the two of you didn’t have to interact much with him anymore or probably a lot shorter than before, then you were okay with it.

It seemed he finally took the hint.

All you could do was keep moving.

Jake came again the next day.

This time around you brought out the ultrasound.

He watched you and the machine intensely. You noticed and gave a sound close to a huff or a snort, “Nothing’s wrong with it. I’m just doing a thorough check-up today.”

A quick look of relief crossed his otherwise exhausted features, “Right, right, of course.”

Once you got the ultrasound running and connected to the avatar, you immediately found the heartbeat with the blurry image of the fetus appearing on the screen. It had grown considerably since the first time you saw it.

“There she is.” You mumbled mostly to yourself. The heartbeat was calming in a way, easing your usual tense muscles.

Jake perked up instantly, staring at you in disbelief, “She? It’s a girl?”

You glanced up at him briefly to find a soft expression on his face upon looking at the fetus. Neteyam—who you just noticed attached to his chest—sleepily snuggled closer to his father’s chest. When his head moved out of the sling, Jake held the back of his head, giving it support.

“Yes.” You gave a short nod.

Another look of relief flashed across his face, this time he didn’t try to hide it like before. A small smile tugged at his lips, “That’s—That’s nice. Amazing.”

In the corner of your eye, you watched him. That easy fatherly expression fell upon his face. How soft his smile was, for something that wasn’t even his. You weren’t sure what to think of it—no, you expected it. It was foreign. A father loving his child. To you at least.

You didn’t know your father. Nor did you have a father figure in your life. That type of love was unfamiliar to you.

Love itself was a foreign concept that you could not yet grasp. The only time you could truly say you experienced something close—similar to love—was with your mother.

And if love was like this—heavy. Leaving you…like this.

You weren’t sure you would want to experience any type of love ever again.

“You sure you’re ready to take on another?” You raised your brows, not looking up from the belly.

Jake looked at you, “Do you care for my answer?”

“I am watching over her. I suppose I should make sure she is left with somewhat tolerable parents—that is, if there aren’t any problems with her when she’s born.” You hummed, rolling your eyes at the sudden look of worry on his face. “Relax, that’s the standard check-up of any baby—well, I don’t know how different it will be compared to human ones.”

A beat went by before he finally answered, “I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t nervous. What new parent isn’t?”

“Mmm.”

The rest of the session was just the two of you, sitting in a somewhat comfortable silence. Comfortable for you because you were able to ignore him without any problems. And Jake wasn’t being too talkative or apologetic, which was a plus. But he was noticeably less hostile toward you as the time went by. Showing that he was taking the truce quite seriously and keeping his end of the bargain.

In other words, the truce was possibly the best option for you both. You could work in peace without being hammered or interrogated. And Jake would continue his visits without any problems.

You still didn’t like him. And you were sure the feelings were mutual.

But things were becoming easier.

And sometimes you like easy. Just as much as a challenge.

There was a part of him that was curious. Jake didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand Neytiri’s easy trust in you but it only made him more curious as he kept coming to see the baby.

Of course, you were guarded and curt around him. And he was quite the same but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in why you were so important to their deity.

So many questions.

A part of him wanted to ask Eywa himself—he wasn’t much used to praying to her but he would now and then out of respect for the People. If he asked, he would possibly gain an answer—which was incredibly rare—or he would gain more questions, which was the more common response.

So, Jake took to finding things out for himself. Even if it meant doing it the hard way. Even if it meant getting his head out of his ass and finally putting things into perspective.

Jake Sully was willing to at least keep this tolerable relationship with you going. Keeping this stable cord steady. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. It was time he had to get used to it. It was time for him to get over himself.

And he was willing to show that he did want something different. That he was ready to change, to finally understand you in a way.

But you still didn’t like him. Which was fine.

He didn’t like himself all that much either.

Another week went by and Neytiri still hadn’t come back. Surprisingly, you found yourself missing her. And when you began missing others, you got angry.

Since you didn’t feel like going through that process again, you resolved yourself to thinking that she must’ve gotten busy with her clan. Or grown tired of watching over you and your depressing personality once she realized that you weren’t a threat to her clan.

That must’ve been it. That’s what you chose to believe at that moment.

One day at a time.

You moved forward. Because you had to.

Throughout the week you focused on your work tending to the garden, checking on the baby, and even taking on more responsibilities around Hell’s Gate.

Sometimes you’d help Dr. Patel in the bio labs, other times you went with the other avatars to train your body. There were also days you would help Norm pack different human items he’d usually bring for the Na’vi children of the Omatikaya Clan. You, of course, never ventured too close to their territory whenever you went with him to drop off the items. You’d either stay in the ship you flew in or stay at the base as he left on his own.

Jake still kept coming around but his time there became shorter and shorter with each visit. Again, you didn’t bat an eye. You welcomed it and continued with your work.

Toward the end of your busy and long week, you woke up with a start when a blaring sound struck your room. It had to have been the middle of the night as you looked around frantically, only to realize the sound was coming from your tablet.

Quickly, you grabbed it to find the alarm was the system alerting you something was wrong.

And the problem was coming from the tank room.

You stumbled out of your bedroom and dashed through the long halls until you finally ended up in the tank room. Not caring that you were probably making a bunch of noise in the process.

When you got to Augustine’s tank, your heart sank when you found Grace’s avatar was violently twitching with the lights inside of the tank blaring a red.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you immediately checked for the problem.

The first thing you checked was the avatar itself. Her heart and the baby’s were fine but the avatar’s was slightly elevated, probably in response to whatever was happening to the machine which was the next thing you began to check.

There you discovered that something in it was malfunctioning. Throwing the liquid temperature off, the placentiums weren’t giving any more nutrients like they were supposed to. Whatever was going on, you didn’t have time to fix it or the machine.

If you wasted time like that more damage could be done and you weren’t going to risk that. Especially when the baby was in there. Especially when the baby could receive the worst of your mistake. Of this malfunction.

So, you worked fast.

You searched the room for an empty tank—which you were able to find and rolled it over next to the one Dr. Augustine’s avatar was in. You pulled the empty tank open just as Norm and a few other scientists entered.

“What happened?!” Norm questioned hastily.

Quickly, you jumped down from the empty tank and rushed toward Grace’s, “It’s malfunctioning. I don’t know why but we have to move her.”

Thankfully, Norm didn’t ask any more questions. He ordered the other scientists to help you.

You worked quickly. Draining the rest of the liquid from the tank, carefully moving the avatar—this required multiple hands—until you placed it in the new tank.

“Track her heart rate.” You ordered one of them.

A second later, a woman responded, “Stable but its body temperature’s dropping fast.”

By the time she said that you closed the tank. “Norm, fill it up.”

You jumped down, grabbed the heart monitor from the female scientist, and watched the lines closely. The tank was nearly filled up as Norm came up beside you.

Along with the heart monitor, your heart pounded through your ears as the tank finally filled up. You gave the monitor to Norm and went to adjust the temperature back to the usual settings.

When the blue lights came on it felt as if the room breathed a huge sigh of relief. You took the monitor back as Norm hummed, “Lucky you were the one to get here first. And quick thinking too—do you know what went wrong with the other one?”

The rest of the scientists poured out of the room as you slowly shook your head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t waste time, Spellman. Not when it could’ve risked the baby.”

Norm nodded and patted your shoulder, “You’re right. Good work, Doc.” He moved to the other side of the tank with a thoughtful expression. “You want me to stay and help with anything else?”

The lines on the monitor were stable, which brought you some sense of comfort. And yet the slight panic remained. “No, no. I’m good here. You can go back to bed. I’ll finish up here soon.”

“Okay.” Norm eventually moved toward the exit. “Get some sleep, Reeds. I’m serious.”

You nodded without looking at him. “Yeah, sure. Goodnight.”

“Good morning.” Norm corrected with a tired grin.

With that, Norm left. You breathed in a steady breath before grabbing a chair from the corner of the lab and sinking onto it. The monitor was kept nearby, the heart rate melodic in your ears as you set your tablet down on your lap.

For a while, you studied how far along the avatar was. It had been a good couple of months since you first discovered the child—which left her at about twenty-four to twenty-seven weeks at least. That’s not even counting when she first got pregnant. But compared to a human, the Na’vi pregnancy went by a lot faster, which also confirmed your theory.

Or maybe your perception of time was fucked up with how distracted and busy you had been.

Was that why the malfunction happened? Were you too distracted to notice any faults in the system during your usual sessions? What did happen?

You contemplated this for a while. Until your mind became hazy and your eyes droopy. At some point, you fell asleep next to the tank because there was no way you would leave the fetus’ side at that point. Not after all of that.

It felt as if your eyes had been closed for only a couple of seconds before you were suddenly jolted awake to find Norm standing over you.

“What happened? Is it the tank again?” You instantly asked, turning to check on the tank.

“No, no, no—the—she’s fine!” Norm quickly assured while easing you back into your chair. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

You stared at him for a beat, both a tired and an annoyed expression easily falling upon your face. “Well, I assure you I certainly wasn’t sitting with my eyes closed just then.”

Norm winced, “Sorry. I thought you’d want to get in your own bed before Jake gets here.” He rubbed the back of his neck as you got up from the chair. “I had to tell him what happened—he’s flying over now.”

“That’s fine.” You grumbled. “I can stand just one day in the same room with him. Besides, I should probably figure out what went wrong with that tank.”

Norm nodded, “Okay—uh, should I be a mediator for the both of you or..?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m meeting their clan leader.”

“You really need to try and get along with him.” Norm chuckled with a shake of his head.

You scowled, “Are you going to keep yapping in my ear about it or be useful?”

“Alright, alright, don’t an ass.” He strolled toward the doorway. “Jake’ll be here in fifteen.”

Once he left, you got to work again. You weren’t an official engineer but you knew a good amount of information from your training back on Earth. You hoisted yourself up and into the tank before you began taking it apart. You stood in it, trying to find out what exactly had gone wrong—while glancing at the heart monitor now and then.

Your brain was moving quickly yet hazily from the sleep. Eyes honed in on the mess of wires in front of you. So distracted by your silent questions and theories that you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps. Only the voice that followed after.

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” You replied immediately, watching in the corner of your eye as he approached the new tank. His hair was tied back and across his chest was a leather strap that carried what looked like a machete. “It was just a malfunction with the tank. We were able to get her out before any real damage could be done.”

Jake frowned, “Malfunction? How the hell did you let that happen?!”

“Look, I don’t know.” You replied calmly, ignoring the twitch in your jaw. “I’m still trying to figure all that out. But she’s out of it and fine. Norm helped if that makes you feel better—”

“I thought you had things handled? What happened to that?” Jake scowled, his tone vicious.

“I do.”

“Then what the hell happened—”

“I already said I don’t know!” You seethed, glaring down at the group of wires now hanging from your hands. Somewhere in the back of your brain, you realized that Norm really did have to stand between the two of you. That this truce wasn’t stable enough. That the two of them were just too explosive. “The hell do you think I’m trying to do? Kill the baby?!”

You missed the way Jake’s face faltered slightly, catching himself. “No…No, that’s not what I—”

“Then get off my fucking dick!” You snapped, throwing a piece of the tank to the floor with a clatter.

All sound was gone from the room then.

This was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Being scolded like some child—like you already weren’t beating yourself up over this mess.

You sunk onto the floor of the tank and continued working. Because that’s what you were best at. Not conversations. Not people. Not love.

Work. It was everything to you.

Already you were mentally drowning Jake out, ignoring the fact that there was another person in the room with you. But eventually, you realized that there was nothing wrong with the wires. It must’ve been something else. Another theory down the drain.

Jake uttered your name at one point. And you ignored him.

There was a sigh followed by a short pause before he spoke, “I’m sorry.” You continued ignoring him. There was something about his apologies. You were just tired of them. “That wasn’t fair, you’re right. I shouldn’t have come at you like that—”

“Augustine’s avatar is over there.” You mumbled. “You can check on her yourself.”

There was another silence but you were too focused on what was in front of you to notice or care. You were so determined to ignore him and the sting in the corners of your eyes.

You didn’t like to cry. Especially in front of others.

Thankfully, you ignored him long enough until you realized you were finally alone.

After a while, you breathed out a tired sigh.

Fortunately, as the days went by there were no other problems with the new tank or baby, but it didn’t stop you from always double-checking everything after that close call. So much so that you didn’t realize how much sleep you were missing until Norm pulled you away from your work and forced you back into your room. Locked the door and everything just to make his point.

With the promise of Norm taking care of your work, you eventually allowed yourself to sleep for practically the entire day. Not without the tablet on the dresser next to your bed of course.

Even after catching up on some semblance of sleep, Norm still didn’t let you get back to your schedule right away. Which irritated you of course.

“I don’t want you in my garden, Spellman.”

He rolled his eyes, “And I don’t want you stressing yourself out. As your friend and colleague who happens to care about your well-being, I demand you stay away from the garden until you’re completely rested.”

You frowned at him, “We’re friends?”

“Shut up and accept my love.”

And he kept true to his word. Norm kept you away from the gardens, even the tank room. And made sure that the scientists knew how to keep you away as well. He covered all of his bases.

Damn him.

You couldn’t sit around and do nothing though. So, at some point you were so desperate you resorted to practically begging Norm to just give you something to do that would distract you throughout the whole day. You nagged and nagged and nagged until Norm finally gave in.

“There’s an old link shack north of Hell’s Gate. We’ve been thinking about restoring all of them around the area. But that particular shack’s connection is a little wonky. Maybe you could head over and restock the supplies with your avatar. Maybe even fix the connection while you’re at it.”

You nodded quickly, “Yeah, sure thing. I’ll get on that—”

“And don’t try to sneak your way to the gardens!” Norm added sternly, sending you a look over his shoulder while clicking away at his computer. “Plus, you won’t need the Samson ships. The shack’s not too far from here.”

With that, you went to grab supplies, such as med kits, weapons—one gun and a few stacks of ammo—blankets, Na’vi weapons, a hunting knife, and a bow with a few arrows. You kept the hunting knife to yourself just in case.

After getting all of this, you placed the bag of supplies in the compound longhouse where your avatar always slept when you weren’t linked. Once you got to your link bed and linked up with your avatar, you grabbed the hunting knife and the bag of supplies before taking off north from Hell’s Gate.

The sky was grey today with a few darker clouds on the horizon instead of the shimmering blue you were used to. A storm might’ve been coming.

Which meant you had to make this trip quick. There was no telling how bad these storms could get on this planet.

Similar to how you traveled through the forest with Neytiri, you took to the trees so that you’d have less of a chance of running into or disturbing any of Pandora’s finest. Hopefully, you had learned to be quiet enough to not draw any attention your way as well.

As time went by, the sky got darker. You followed the coordinates Norm gave you while slipping through the trees like the true shadow you were. Traveling and climbing through the trees got easier as you went. You had done it enough times with Neytiri that you knew what to do and how to do it. Albeit not perfectly, but enough to get by. Blending into the environment as best as you could.

You enjoyed it, the vibrant life and colors of the forest once again. Every time felt like you were taking in Pandora for the very first time. Every time felt like a huge breath of the freshest air. Here, you were weightless. You weren’t a scientist. You weren’t human. You weren’t an avatar. You were just were.

You existed here. You were real.

Truly this place was everything you dreamed of when you were younger.

Rain began to pour by the time you spotted the shack. It was propped up and well hidden in a large tree, with moss growing out of the sides, the entire thing looking like it hadn’t been used in a long time.

You slid down from a branch as quietly as you could and landed in front of the metal entrance. By the time you got the door open and crouched inside, you were soaking wet from the rain.

The shack itself wasn’t too small, which surprised you. It must’ve been made to allow avatars to be able to roam freely through here without too much trouble.

Once the door was closed, you sunk onto the empty cot in the corner of the shack and began unpacking the supplies. The med kit went into the cabinets above a wooden table attached to the wall. The blankets went on the cot. The gun and ammo went under the cot in a long black case filled with old and rusted weapons you had to throw out into the rain. You kept the hunting knife tucked in your shorts.

The rain kept going. It was relaxing. Stopping for a moment to listen. Smelling it through the cracked window next to the cot you sat on.

It was nice. You could stay here if you wanted. This could’ve been your new home if you didn’t have responsibilities at Hell’s Gate.

Lastly, you worked on the radio that sat on the wooden table—which you assumed was connected to the main base. So, for the next few minutes, you took your time messing with the radio. Listening to either ongoing static or barely audible voices going in and out. At some point, you messed with the wires a few times before Norm’s voice finally came through.

“Tomato. Tomato. Tomato.”

You pressed one of the buttons, “Hey, Norm.”

“Oh, Jesus! Reeds!” Norm startled. “Warn a guy next time!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, “I just wanted to test if it worked. Clearly, I fixed it.”

A snap of thunder drew you away from the radio. Seemed like it was getting worse out there. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been out there until now.

Norm seemed to realize this too, “You gonna stay there and unlink?”

“Mmm.” You paused. “I’m gonna try bringing the avatar back.”

He sighed, “Alright, good luck.”

“Don’t need it.” You said as you got up. “I’m too awesome.”

“Whatever, Reeds.”

Another clap of thunder filled the air as you stepped out of the shack. Immediately you were soaked by how heavy the rain was.

Thunder continued to boom, making your skin jump every now and then. It was just terribly cold, making you start to run so that you could get out of it faster.

You ran and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, only to realize just how much noise you were making and that the area was too unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t long until you realized how lost you were. It was just too dark to navigate your way back or recognize any familiar spots guiding your way.

With that in mind, you went toward the nearest tree and began to climb.

But your body was yanked away from the tree bark almost instantly as you were tackled down to the ground by a large weight. Your left shoulder exploded with vicious pain as if a bunch of sharp knives buried itself into your skin and continued to tear through it.

A strangled scream left your lips as the thunder clapped in the sky once more. You could barely see the creature but it was a dark, large beast. Digging further into your shoulder.

You hadn’t even seen it coming. You hadn’t been paying attention.

Now…

Now you might die because of it.

You tried shoving at it, managing to get most of its weight off of you. But the teeth were still in your shoulder. There was still pain. There was still warm liquid dripping down your arm.

When you moved your leg, you remembered the hunting knife in your shorts. Immediately, you dug into your pocket and found the handle instantly.

After that, you didn’t waste any time stabbing at it blindly and desperately. You did this, you kept going until more warm liquid covered your knife-wielding arm. You did this until the animal was limp against your body. Until you were able to push it off and scramble to your feet and run.

The pain was awful but bearable enough for you to run back to the shack at least. Mud was all over your clothes—some of it in your mouth. If anything, you probably looked insane right now.

You ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Way too clumsy to be quiet. What’s worse was you had no clue where you were. And there was more shuffling coming from the bushes and trees surrounding you. If anything, you were probably throwing yourself further into the lion’s den.

It wasn’t long until a black creature suddenly came out of the bushes in front of you, causing you to stumble to a stop as it made its way toward you. Sleek and dangerous. Eyes locked on you.

Thunder boomed again. An identical creature came out from your right. Another on your left. Another. And another. And another.

Until you were surrounded. Until you knew there was no way you were going to make it out of this.

You kept your knife in front of you, trying to ignore the pain in your shoulder, the warm liquid running down your arm, the shakiness in your legs. You began to wonder how much blood you were losing with your energy slowly dwindling as time went by—no, it didn’t matter.

Damn it, you weren’t going to die here! Not like this.

“Come on!” You hissed as you pointed the knife at them. “Come on!”

They growled at you, closing in. Finally, one of them pounced toward you. With the knife, you slashed at it. At that, the creature cringed away and missed you entirely but that didn’t mean the others were going to try their luck.

Out of instinct, you stumbled back as two more tried coming for you. Your back hit a tree as you yelled and swung your knife wildly at them.

Only neither the creature nor your blow landed.

The two creatures were thrown to the side as another clap of thunder struck your ears.

Another figure emerged from the trees and rushed toward you.

Instantly, you swung the knife, only for it to be caught in an iron grip.

You screamed.

“Hey, hey, easy!”

It took you only a couple of moments for you to register the words and that they were coming from a familiar avatar. The last person you ever expected to be here.

Jake lowered your arm with a hiss. You blinked as another round of thunder rattled your ears.

The creatures were closing in again. Jake turned his back to you, hissing at them. His larger arm stretched in front of you protectively when one of them got a little too close for his liking. The creature hissed back

You watched warily behind him, still clutching the dirtied knife. Both of you exhausted and animalistic. Yellow eyes glimmering. One with warning and the other with desperation.

Jake looked terrifying in this light. Just as murderous and dangerous as the animals that surrounded you.

You remained behind him, trembling but glaring. Gripping that knife like your life depended on it.

There was suddenly more shuffling, more thunder, and the creatures then scattered.

You, dumbfounded by this, spoke shakily, “Why did they—”

Jake grabbed your wrist holding the knife.

“We need to move.” He said, dragging you forward.

The two of you ran in the opposite direction of the creatures. He hauled you up a tree before climbing up himself. “Is there a link shack nearby?”

For a moment, you wondered how he knew about the link shacks. You leaned on a branch both to catch your breath and because the quick movements left you a bit dizzy. When you couldn’t come up with plausible answers to your silent question you instead said, “I just came back from one. North from here—I don’t know how far it is.”

Your body leaned a little too far. Jake was quick to grab you in his stronger, more stable arms as he pulled you away from falling off the edge, “Hey, hey, Reeds, I need you here with me, okay? Just stay awake long enough until we get to the shack and we’ll clean you up.”

“I’ve...I’m losing a lot of…” Blood. Blood was what you wanted to say. But the adrenalin was wearing out. Your shoulder throbbed horribly. Exhaustion weighed you down and placed inconvenient black spots in your vision.

“I know.” He draped your good arm over his shoulder and kept you upright. “I know, we’ll get there. I promise.”

There was no arguing with him. You were soaked to the bone and in a hell of a lot of pain. Going back to the shack was your best bet in this horrid weather.

Jake continued to support your weight as the two of you followed the same coordinates leading back to the shack—or rather you haze inaudible directions of what you could remember from the information Norm had given you while Jake haphazardly followed.

Thankfully, the rest of the way wasn’t a long journey. Or maybe you just kept blacking in and out along the way, you didn’t know.

Jake and you stumbled through the door of the shack. He closed the door while you made your way to the radio with whatever strength you had left.

“Norm.” You tapped the radio while wincing. The pain in your shoulder was getting worse. Before now you had been tolerating it. “Norm, can you hear me?”

The static went on.

“Storm must be messing with the signal,” Jake said from behind you as he rummaged through the shack. “We should stay here until the storm settles—”

You rested your head against the small table, the rest of his words becoming nothing but muffled noise to your ears. God, you’ve lost so much blood. And you were so tired.

For a moment, just for a few seconds, you wanted to sleep. Only for a moment.

“Reeds.”

A larger hand rested on the back of your neck, bringing you slightly out of your unconsciousness.

Jake kept calling your name. “Hey, where’s the med kits at? We need to work on your arm, okay? And I need you to stay awake. Can’t have you unlinking in this condition.”

Sluggishly, you nodded, “They’re in the cabinets.”

More thunder rolled by. Jake left your side briefly to search through the cabinets above you. You leaned back in your seat, staring bleakly up at the ceiling.

“How long do these storms last?” You asked.

The thunder responded with a clap.

sorry for the long wait! hopefully it was all worth the wait. another 8k chapter, yay, that wasn't difficult to write at all lol! but now jake and reeds are alone in a shack. anything could happen....

(i'm not adding anymore people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @squirtlebob @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

[devildomwriter]

Lilith’s Life

Appearance

Lilith appears to be a thin pale woman with long pale hair and a set of white wings. She has an off the shoulder floor length dress with puffy sleeves. She was often seen smiling.

Personality

Lilith is hinted to be very playfully and sometimes painfully blunt—When she first met Michael she compared him to a jellyfish which upset him and got her in trouble. She was spoiled by her brothers who completely adored her but she was especially close with Belphegor and Beelzebub who she was almost never seen apart from.

Belphegor notes that when Lilith got mad about something it was hard to snap her out of it, she was also easily scared. As described by Mammon she was very cute and mischievous.

She enjoyed playing hide and go seek and liked visiting the human world with Belphegor. She fell in love with a human, so much so that she’d risk facing the ultimate punishment to save his life.

MC is often described as being very similar to Lilith so it can be assumed Lilith’s personality is also similair.

Lilith’s Life & Legacy

Lilith, like all angels was created by her father, God. She was the youngest of the seven siblings. She became very close to Belphegor and Beelzebub and was almost never seen without them. Lucifer and her other brothers loved her very much even though she sometimes gave Lucifer trouble.

Lilith spent her days happily with her brothers on picnics, playing hide and seek, and flllwing her brothers around. One day she decided to visit the human world with Belphegor and fell in love with it.

Lilith continued visiting the human world without permission and met a human man she fell for. She kept her celestial origins a secret and they presumably were courting.

At one point Lucifer visited the human world to see what kind of man this human was and was relieved when he saw he appeared to be a kind man.

One day the human man was overcome with an incurable illness. Out of desperation to save the man she loved, Lilith stole fruit from the tree of life to save him. For an angel to alter a human’s life span is forbidden, what she did was immediately found out and she was brought before the seraphs (presumably) to hear their judgment.

Lucifer was unable to stop the verdict and Lilith was sentenced: to be wiped from existence (OG game), have her wings taken from her and cast into the darkness to wander for eternity and never be reborn (Nightbringer)

Lucifer had already had thoughts of leaving the celestial realm but with this verdict he and his brothers decided they couldn’t sit back and let that happened and Lucifer began the war. Lucifer did not insist his brothers follow him into battle but they did so anyway for Lilith’ sake.

It’s not clear if Lilith was imprisoned and later freed, but she did take part in the war.

On the day of the fall a spear was aimed at her at the same time Belphegor was targeted, Beelzebub could only save one and chose Belphegor. He described Lilith having terror and sadness in her eyes as she was struck (implied to be her wing that was hit) and they all fell.

Bleeding and unable to use her wings to save her, Lilith fell to the Devildom. As an angel it wasn’t the fall that nearly killed her but the celestial weapon combined with the Devildom air in her weak state. Lilith did not turn into a demon when she fell as she was meant to die.

Lucifer found her and pledged his loyalty to Diavolo to save her in time. Diavolo risked war to save Lilith by having her reborn as a human. In the game it’s not specified if he simply altered her genetics and erased her memories and sent her back to the human world or if he had her reincarnated, but in the comics it is shown Lilith was turned into an infant and literally reborn.

Not much is known about what happened to Lilith after this. She had no memory of being an angel, of the war, and of her dear family. Since we do not know in the game if she was still grown and able to reunite with her love we don’t know if she ended up with him in the end; however she would fall in love and marry and have at least one child. She is stated to have had a long and happy life as a human.

Upon her death, Lilith remembered everything, about her brothers, being an angel, the war, and Lucifer’s sacrifice for her. Lilith did not go into the light, instead she stayed behind to watch her brothers as a spirit. She stayed for so long that she forgot how to go to the light and waited for an opportunity to say goodbye though she didn’t have the strength.

In the game, Lilith is able to use some power to send a RAD application profile of MC to Lucifer’s feet by having the window fly open. Lucifer chose MC for this reason and Lilith was able to use her descendant to help her brothers. MC would have visions of Lilith’s life including Lucifer’s final words to her, they repeated these words to Lucifer to prove they were Lilith’s descendant.

Lilith thanks MC for their help and is able to move on.

In the comics, MC uses some of their power to have Lilith appear before the brothers one last time so they can say proper goodbyes before she finally ascends into the light.

Summary

Some may criticize Lilith for what happened in the wake of her actions to save her love. But who can really blame her? She fell in love with someone, she’d do anything for them, she’d die for them and she did. In desperation to save her love, she did not think about the consequences and even if she had, I can’t imagine she’d have thought her brothers would start a war.

Lilith’s death severely traumatized her brothers but this wasn’t something she could prevent, she was shot and unable to use her wings to save herself. After her death she watched over them and lead MC to them to save them from their pain and help them bond.

Lilith’s legacy includes her descendants who all had angel blood through her but no one was able to use these powers (presumably) until MC made pacts with power demons.

In the end, Lilith’s legacy is MC, a human who is pivotal in uniting the three worlds all because of Lilith’s love and ultimate sacrifice for someone she loved.

[abbyromanoff]

Can I request an omegaverse where R is a beta but when she meets Alpha! Agatha, R’s body changes and become in omega! R?

Please 🥺

SAY YES TO HEAVEN

PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,832

WARNINGS: ABO universe, smut, car sex, handjobs, breeding, multiple orgasms, creampies, marking, possessiveness, praise, degrading, think that’s all :))

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Agatha never intended to fall in love with someone like you, someone who wasn’t part of her kind. You were a beta, failing to fit in with the majority of society and often finding yourself as an outcast to most, but that only seemed to make your girlfriend fall harder.

You tried to understand what her role as an Alpha meant and the fact that she was destined to be with an Omega, something you weren’t but now wish you could be. She wasn’t like any of the Alpha’s you came across, she cared about more than sex and saw you as a human being, not just a piece of meat to use and throw away once she was done.

But eventually, over the course of nine months, you noticed changes in your body. It started out small when you noticed a growing heat in your lower region, but you assumed it was natural. Then when she was stroking your face, her fingers pumping deep inside of you, an almost purr-like noise left your gaping mouth. You could tell the effect it had on her as well, she had been waiting to hear her partner release such sounds of pleasure.

Then came the need, it was more than ever before, even looking in the woman’s eyes caused a throb to erupt on your clit. What was happening? You didn’t know, which meant you did the only logical thing and visited your doctor.

Agatha offered to take you to the appointment after you informed her of your emotions and physicalities as of late. She had been sensing it too, your smell felt like it was pulling her in, and the urge to claim you as hers only grew.

“It’s going to be alright, my love. If anything happens I’ll be right there with you.” Her words and sweet smile seemed to ease the shaking of your leg before a knocking was placed on the door. The older woman stepped through with what seemed to be an irritated look, she must’ve had a long day, you thought.

“So, tell me, Y/N, what seems to be the problem today?” Came her voice after a few minutes of small talk. A blood-pressure pump was wrapped around your arm and had been squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting off your circulation before you slowly gained it back after release.

“Well, uhm,” Agatha gave you a reassuring look. “I’ve been noticing- the both of us have, actually that there seems to be a change in my body lately and I don’t really know what to do or what it could mean.” You explained, receiving a hum from the doctor as she continued to type on her laptop.

“Mm, and your wife here- is she also a beta?” You blushed at the title she gave your girlfriend and noticed she shared the same reaction.

“Uh, my girlfriend is not a beta, no. She’s actually an alpha.” Her eyebrows rose before shaking it off, but you were used to the reaction, it wasn’t considered normal to see a pair like you together.

“Alright, I think it’s best if I perform a thorough exam, just to be safe. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll be right back.”

The rest of the exam went considerably well, but it almost pained your partner seeing the professional place their hands on your body, on her body. You were hers, it felt almost predatory how much possessiveness could be caused by such a small act.

But when the painfully long wait finally came to an end, you were greeted with the news you had been starting to expect, your body was developing to match your mate’s, you were forming the traits of an omega.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually much more common than you think.” The doctor tried to persuade you, but your mind was still swirling a mile a minute. When earning nothing but silence from your end, Agatha spoke for you.

“Uh, thank you, Miss, we appreciate your help.” She left with a nod and the two of you soon left after her, Agatha secretly smiling to herself as she opened the car door for you.

“You know, it’s really not that bad if you think about it.” There were barely any cars in the parking lot besides yours, most likely because they were nearing closing hours.

“Are you really that upset about this?” She didn’t understand why you kept your head in your hands while leaning forward, did you not want to be her omega?

“I’m not upset, I’m just-” You couldn’t finish as a small whine left you, not quite quiet enough to slip by her listening ears.

“Then tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby.” She tried to bring herself closer to you in hopes of getting a hold of you, only to feel your lips being placed on hers in a hurry. You used both hands to grasp harshly at her cheeks, already starting to climb over the dashboard as you found comfort on her lap.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been needing you so bad this week. I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have your marking, to finally be your omega.” You kissed hastily down her neck and near her jawline, letting yourself leave purple hints that some may suspect were bruises, luckily, purple was her favorite color.

“And then she told me what I’ve been waiting to hear, and I knew I just needed to have you as soon as possible.” Your arms wrapped around her shoulders as your hips started a grinding motion, all previous nerves disappearing as you got lost in a trance of overwhelming pleasure.

“There- someone could see us…” She mumbled, not being able to stop the moans that flew out of her. You were coming in perfect contact with her length, she was becoming just as desperate as you.

“I don’t fucking care, let them see. I thought you wanted people to know I’m yours, has that changed?” Your head was thrown back as her hands came in contact with your waist, causing the pace you started to quicken to her liking.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” The way your name spilled out of her mouth in a haunting whisper sent shivers down your spine and caused goosebumps to erupt over your entire being. Your chuckle drove her mad as she pressed her mouth against your exposed neck, leaving stains of her lipstick across the layers of your skin.

“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out, hm?” Your nimble fingers trailed down to her pants that were harboring a small wet patch. You reached for her belt and untangled it loosely, tossing it in the back before unzipping her khakis. She decided to help you and lifted her hips before lowering her bottoms, her erect cock coming to show and you nearly drooled at the sight.

“I need you inside me so fucking bad, you have no idea.” You stroked her rapidly, feeling her pre-cum drench your hand.

“That’s it, just like that.” She whimpered soundlessly, almost inaudible.

“Oh, yes! Y- you’re doing such a good job, such a good fucking girl.” You smirked teasingly before leaving a lingering kiss on her lips, letting her chase back in hopes of feeling you once again.

“Aren’t I giving you enough? Or is this not enough for your greedy little cock?” You fauxed a pout of sympathy, laughing to yourself when she thrusted into your enclosed hand.

“Awh, it’s so cute seeing you like this, so needy and distressed. I think I know how to fix that.” You brought her fingers against your inner thigh, slowly dragging it closer and closer to your heat. Feeling you through your tight jeans wasn’t enough, she felt as though she would die if she couldn’t feel you.

“Get in the back,” She stated firmly. “Now!” You nodded, a sudden act of submission that brought you by surprise. She followed soon after, smiling as you started discarding yourself of your clothing.

“You’re so perfect, and all fucking mine.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple, the bud hardening the harsher she sucked.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” It wasn’t a request as it was a statement. Her mouth fell upon your neglected breast as she lined herself up with your entrance, there was no need for foreplay as you were already dripping, it nearly brought shame seeing just how wet you were.

“Please, please- ah! Oh, God!” Her face contorted into pleasure as your warmth surrounded her, she felt like she was going to collapse at any given moment.

“Shh, the only one who gets to hear your moans is me, you got that?” You nodded, unable to form words as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Her head stuck in your neck as she cried, sensing her orgasm approaching. The previous acts only edged her further, but now with your walls clamping around her, she knew there was no hope in stopping herself.

“So fucking tight! Oh, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum inside you. Can I cum, baby?” You could hear the pure want and desire looming in her breath and knew you couldn’t deny her.

“Yeah, just- please cum inside me, I want your pups, Aggie.” Your breasts were pressed together and your legs wrapped around her ass, pressing her closer into you in hopes she’d be able to thrust even deeper.

“C’mon, Alpha, give me your pups.” Her release emptied deep inside of you, causing you to groan in satisfaction. She painted your walls white and you enjoyed every second of it, and so did she.

“You feel so good, I need more.” She didn’t halt her movements, no matter the overwhelming shock that coursed through her veins.

“You’re gonna cum with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yeah.” She pulled herself up and grasped onto your hips, pulling you in even further as your legs clenched even tighter around her.

“You see that? That’s how deep I am inside of your needy little cunt.” She pressed against the bulge appearing on your stomach with a wicked grin, pulling you by the back of your neck so your vision lined up with her. You moaned at the sight, reaching out to interlace her hand with yours on the newfound interest.

“Shit, you’re so deep.” There was no warning when her cum shot deep inside of you, some oozing out and dripping down to your butt. You took it as permission to let go, soaking in the orgasmic state you shared.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted, my love, you’re gonna look so precious carrying my babies.” You connected your lips in a hungry kiss, refusing to pull away until you both were gasping for air.

“I- I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop, you don’t know how badly I want to mark you right now.”

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 11

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Ingredients, potions, spells

Pairing: sick!Loki x gn!reader

Tags/warnings: Loki (he's a warning), descriptions of cold/flu symptoms, gn!reader, feverish confessions (but it's sweet I promise), mutual pining

Summary: Loki gets sick and reader takes care of him :)

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I thought of this when I was sick myself haha. Most of these remedies are what I use when I'm ill and they work a treat. And for a special treat for you dear reader, here's the Roasted Garlic and Potato Recipe I use (minus the nutritional yeast - and I use single cream not vegan).

Also, don't know why I keep writing stuff that's mostly 2k? Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment because I realise towards the end that I'm not writing a novel? Who knows. Enjoy! - Love, Grem x

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It started with sniffles.

You’d raised your eyebrows at Loki when he sniffed softly, but frequently, the warning signs of the impending flu clear to only you. Somehow, the irony of a frost giant having a cold wasn’t lost on you either.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked when Thor was out of earshot. If one thing would put Loki on edge it would be his adoring brother fretting over him.

Loki sniffed again and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

His usually smooth voice was gravelly and hoarse, another sign that he was most definitely not fine. You frown softly. You don’t want to push him; you’d gradually worked up a friendly bond with the God of Mischief, at least you thought you had, and you didn’t want to blow it all up. Still, your eyes rake over Loki’s face worriedly, noting the redness around his nose and the missing mischievious glimmer in Loki’s bleary eyes.

Loki narrows his eyes at you, sensing your worry and prickling with defiance. “What?”

“Nothing.” You squeak, snapping your head back to the papers you’d been reading. Maybe this was how ill he’d get he was a god after all. Yet you had a nagging feeling that it would get worse.

Shuffling your papers together, mind made up, you begin to rise to your feet. You can feel Loki’s gaze on you as you pack your bag and try to ignore it, trying to hurry as much as possible.

“I need to run some errands,” you tell him hoisting your bag onto your shoulder. You look over and give him a gentle smile. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Loki huffs in response, clearly believing that he wouldn’t need a mere mortal’s help for anything. You head to the door, waving at Loki before you step through the threshold. Once you’re out of sight, you walk at a breakneck pace to the nearest convince store to do some last minute shopping for the incoming storm you predict.

The following morning, Loki can’t breathe.

His sniffles became worse and  no amount of healing spells made a dent. The headache he thought was Thor, turned out to be a real headache and worst of all, he was hot all over. The burning sensation rolled over him in waves, leaving him sweaty and uncomfortable. He could barely sleep with the stuffy humidity of his body and he thought he may die. We’re frost giants meant to be so hot?

Loki could barely keep his eyes open. He hadn’t felt this ill since he was a child. His heart constricted as he remembered his mother, Freya, fussing over him and caring for him in a pathetic snotty state as a child. She made sure he was cared for, spoiled and well-fed. Tears stung at his eyes in the dark room and he cursed softly, the pain in his sinuses worsening as the threat of tears triggered a new onslaught of snot to build painfully in the bridge of his nose.

The door to his room creeper open, golden light spilling in making him squint angrily. Was it not enough that he was sick with a human affliction, but to be assaulted with bright lights too? But then your head peeked in, and Loki’s breathing hitched – causing him to cough violently into his covers.

“Loki? You okay?” you ask, knowing it’s a stupid question. “Can I come in?”

“I’m fine,” He croaks, turning onto his side. God’s, how embarassing. “Just a bit under the weather.”

You enter his room, tentatively stepping towards the bed and kneeling before him. Loki barely registers your presence, his green eyes looking up at you and struggling to stay open. Any other time he would have equipped about you finally knowing your place before a god, but he’s too tired, too sick, to care. His eyes flutter and he sighs with content when he feels a cool palm press on his sweaty forehead. He leans meekly into your palm and looks up into your worried fface.Your palm is soft and soothes his aching body better than any of the healing spells he’d tried.

And Its probably the fever, but you look ethereal. Loki smiles at you, a dazed smile, but a smile nonetheless. No sneer, no smirk, a genuine smile.   

“You’re burning up,” you say, voice laced with concern. You ignore they way your heart skips as he smiles at you, brushing it away as delirium. You go to move your hand, but Loki’s face follows, chasing the cool calm your palm offers. You sigh a little. Your gut feeling had been right; he is worse. You were glad to have gone to the store to get the ingredients for remedies you knew would help ease the symptoms and speed up recovery.   “Stay here, I won’t be long.”

Loki humphs, which turns into a wracking cough. You hastily remove yourself and head to the common area of the tower. You’d already prepared food the night before so setting up a large tray with an assortment foods was quick.  You pulled out your pre-made bowl of roasted garlic and potato soup and stuff it into the microwave whilst the kettle boils, slicing rounds of lemon, orange and ginger and adding them to a large mug  with honey.  You breathe in the aromatics smells of citrus and garlic melded together, wondering if Loki would heal quicker because he’s a god, or if he'd be defeated by the common cold.

When the microwave dings, interrupting your thoughts, you remove the bowl of soup giving it a quick stir before setting it on the tray with the  rest of the cold-beating snacks you’d bought the day before. You look down at the tray with a sheepish smile. Maybe you had gone overboard; cold and flu tablets, a box of tissues,  homemade soup, bread, honey-and-lemon drink.... and you had isotonic drinks to help with fluid retention.

Yeah.

You had gone overboard.

You carry the tray precariously back to Loki’s room. Pushing the door with your foot, you re-enter the dark room.

“I’m back.” You say into the darkness, waiting for your eyes to adjust. You place the tray beside his bed, and turn on his bedside lamp.

“Hng?”

“Here, let me help you sit up.” Loki meekly swats you away, but he’s too weak to prop himself up without assistance, and begrudgingly concedes to allow you to help him. Your arms wrap around is chest, slotting under his shoulder to help shimmy him upwards before fluffing a pillow behind his head. Loki is frowning slightly, and if you weren’t so concerned about his health, you’d notice he was blushing.

“I’ve brought you some food. You need to eat before you take any medicine.” You give him a soft smile. “And I brought tissues.”

“Hmph.” Loki huffs, glancing to the tray you’d set down. His chest tightens when he sees everything you’ve brought. You must have planned this. Maybe you cursed him somehow?

“Did you... put a spell on me?:

“What? No. Loki you know I can’t use magic.” You chuckle at the absurdity of his question and pick up the bowl of soup. On autopilot you scoop some onto the spoon and guide it to his lips. Loki leans forward slightly, eyeing you suspiciously, but opens his mouth to accept your offering. He can’t taste anything, but as soon as the creamy texture hits his tongue his stomach growls. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was.  He weakly reaches for the bowl and spoon, which you gladly hand to him, and forces himself to eat slowly. Loki hums with delight as he eats , the warm soup soothing his throat and filling his stomach. Whatever you had made was making him feel better already. He wished he could taste it and was overcome with that same fluttery feeling his his chest whenever you were around.

His cedar green eyes rise over the spoon to meet yours and in a quiet voice he mumbles, “Thank you.”

You give him another smile. “No problem. Happy to help.”

The feeling in Loki’s chest increased, tightening almost uncomfortably. Your presence had already helped with the fever, now the hunger. You were slowly but surely making him better just by being near him. Being your silly, idiotic, caring, kind human self.

“You don’t have to.” He thickly after another spoonful. His eyes are downcast, almost ashamed. He hadn’t made it easy to be befriended by you, but you had been patient with him and accepted him as part of the team without so much as a second thought. Over time, Loki had developed a liking to you and he hated that. Feelings for a human? No. Not Loki. He just favoured you above the rest. With your beautiful smile you always gave him and the way your eyes twinkled when he’d get one over on Tony or Thor, even if you were reprimanding him or shaking your head. And of course, the way you made an effort to speak with him everyday; even if it was a quick hello. Treating him with a kindness that no one else offered.

“I know. I want to.” You say firmly. “I can leave you be, obviously, but you just need to call me and I’ll get you what you need.”

You push some of his unruly hair out of his face whilst he eats and his eyes flutter closed briefly. Your heart warms at the sight. You were infatuated with the God who was a black cat personified. Handsome wasn’t even a befitting word for Loki but it was the best you could come up with at short notice. His eyes were so green you wondered if emeralds would be jealous of the hue and you always found yourself enraptured by them. Too bad you were just a human.

Loki considers your words carefully, a wave of heat creeping up his neck that had nothing to do with the fever. Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave. In fact, he wanted you to stay so badly it made his stomach churn with excitement but he was a god  and the whole thing was supposed to be beneath him-

“Please stay.” Loki whispers, ignoring pestering thoughts. He’d worry about consequences later, as usual. He was too tired to argue. You only nod in response, but your body sings with happiness.

Once Loki has finished eating you clear away the bowl and hand him two flu tablets and the mug of citrusy goodness. Loki’s large hands envelop the mug entirely whilst he sips, humming again at the soothing feeling that you and your food bring him.

“What is this potion?” He asks, sinking further back into his pillows.

“it’s lemon and honey, with ginger and orange.” You lean back onto your palms, watching him like a hawk. “It’s hardly a potion.”

Loki humphs quietly, not quite believing you, but continues to drink it. It’s not long before he’s drifting to sleep, the fullness of eating and the comfort you bring quelling the sickness that wracks his body. You gently pry the half drunk mug from his hands. Loki can barely keep his head up, leaning onto your shoulder as his eyelids fighting to stay open but his sleepy sighs are winning the battle.

He hums quietly and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. When you ask him to repeat himself he obliged, but remains ever so haughty about the fact you didn’t hear his incoherent mumblings.

“I said,” He huffs. “You are my favourite.”

“Favourite?” You chuckle. “Is it hard to be your favourite?”

Loki frowns slightly and cuddles closer. You smell nice and you’re warm. Enrapturingly so.

“Yes – but you. You. You’re different.”

“Oh?” for a moment you feel smug, until he continues.

“Infuriating.”

“Oh.” You roll your eyes to yourself. That one was on you.

“Captivating.” Loki’ tone is wistful, teetering on feverishly dream-like, but you perk up nonetheless. “Beautiful.”

“Oh...”

You look down at his form lying against your shoulder. He looks so different now, vulnerable, a cocoon of his usual self and it makes your heart melt. You were sweet on him and the feverish confessions were making your heart do somersaults.

“Make me feel so... nice and fuzzy,” he huffs out gently, slumping more and more against you. “You’ve cursed me.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a flustered giggle. Your cheeks are bright and so hot that you worry you may catch Loki’s cold. You wish you could record this moment; knowing that Loki would deny, deny, deny ever saying these things when he was better.

“To feel... fuzzy?” you try not to snicker but it’s too cute.

“Yes.” Loki hisses, turning his face against your collar bone. His skin his warm and sweaty and worry prickles at you again.

“You’re clammy,” You comment, going to move to grab the head towel. However, Loki’s arm wraps around you, holding you loosely but stopping you from moving away. “Loki?”

“Stay.” His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. The soft plea making your resolve break instantly. “You make it better. You make me better. Please don’t leave me.”

“Of course I'll stay. For as long as you need me.” You say gently and you hunker down next to Loki, wrapping him in your arms. You move hair from his face and his green eyes flicker to you briefly with a small sniffle.

“Do you swear it?” He murmurs.

“I swear it.” You murmur back without hesitation. Content with your answer, Loki pulls you closer and cuddles into you. You murmur sweet nothings to him as he drifts to sleep in your arms.

You stay with Loki until his sickness passes. Unwavering in your promise to him and as he recovers, his feelings for you grow tenfold.

So when you inevitably get ill, Loki remains by your side, just as you had for him. Once you’re both recovered, you’re inseparable.

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

[wannabepoeticischiya]

throughout the heavens and eternities

What will you have me be? What would you have me do? Who will you want me to become? Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do it… if it gets you to stay. If I can have you even for a moment longer, I’ll do it. You only need to tell me, and I’ll make it so.

ao3: throughout the heavens and eternities pairing: dan feng x f! reader genre: angst, romance wc: 6.2k status: one shot

He forgets sometimes, when he looks at her.

When she laughs so freely that it chases away every ember of spite and resentment, blankets him in warmth for the winters to come. When she looks his way with all the affection the universe could offer, like there was nothing greater than him in her eyes. That the world just melts away when she smiles at him, when she takes his hand in hers and her presence envelops him in every possible way.

He forgets it all.

That just like the rest of these mortals… she, too, will pass.

Dan Feng was never one to take into consideration of the fleeting lives of humans. Fickle that they were. Weak in the nicest way, stupidly stubborn in the worst. Considerate and brave, selfish and cowardly. Quick to move on, so he sees. Fearful to those in power in times of peace. Defiant if they’re hurt or if the people they care for are threatened.

They love greatly. Unconditionally. There existed no greater love than that of the love of a mortal. They loved inordinately unlike those blessed with immortality who loved in multitudes.

Perhaps it all came down to their affairs with their painfully limited time. They make the most of what they got, never idling for too long. They settle with things that make them happy, they keep it, take care of it so they’ll last.

Mortals love who their heart desires. Even if that love isn’t returned, they remain because there’s this little flickering hope that maybe one day it will. They look for people who make them happy, keep them… and take care of them so they will last.

And Dan Feng was the luckiest unluckiest Vidyadhara to be at the receiving end of a mortal’s affection.

In the wake of moonlight, he found himself looking at her—seeing the years pass her by in the blink of an eye. Her sight wasn’t as perceptive as it was all those years ago, sometimes she’d even mistake the tall house plant in the corner of the room for him. It didn’t make him love her any less. Her hair that once shone so lustrously under the artificial heavens of the Luofu had dimmed to a faint glow. Still, he would catch her figure even amidst ten thousand people. Her skin that was once as smooth as the starskiffs that sail the skies was now blemished and wrinkled, marred by time’s unkind treatment.

Yet he loved her more and more each passing day.

In his eyes… she remained the most beautiful creature in the infinite cosmos.

Dan Feng has lived for a thousand years, and he knows that he would live for another thousand more. It was his fate, his destiny, and he has come to accept that a long, long time ago.

He’d spend his years walking through the seconds like the water of a flowing river, akin to how the stars move across the sky, like the hexafleet travels to the ends of the universe: effortlessly, seamlessly, never succumbing to the funny tricks of time… but she wouldn’t.

Every day that he falls deeper and deeper in his adoration for her, marching in parallel was the sickening reminder that she won’t live to see his love to the end—that unlike him, she was so painfully mortal.

Because he forgets. Amidst all this momentary happiness, he forgets… that she, too, will die… just like how mortals do.

For so long, it felt strange to him. How do humans take it? To live with all these memories knowing… they wouldn’t last.

To exist only to perish.

You will leave me. You will pass, as all mortals do. You came into my life with nothing but your love to offer… yet when you leave, you’ll be taking everything with you. Scattering the lands with reminders of your existence that it remains, even after your death, for all the eternities to come. That I’ll live under the heavens without you. The sun will rise in the east and set in the west and I’ll look to you, only to find you nowhere. Through every passing lifetimes, I’ll look for you—and look and look and look. In every corner, every world, every planet formation… I’ll look.

Still, I know—that I wouldn’t be able to find you… because the place you’d gone to was unreachable.

And no power in this long life of mine could change that.

What will you have me be? What would you have me do? Who will you want me to become? Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do it… if it gets you to stay. If I can have you even for a moment longer, I’ll do it. You only need to tell me, and I’ll make it so.

Dan Feng found it hilarious. He could have annihilated fleets of soldiers, wiped away civilizations, spent eternity conquering it all. Tie a lasso around the moon, bottle every star in the cosmos, hang the constellations in the sky in her image. All for her. I’d give you the sun, if you asked me. I’d give it all up, if you asked me. I’d give you all of the time if I could.

And should the Aeons decide to divide the universe… I’d gladly give you mine.

Yet he remained powerless when faced with time.

He could have had all the things in the plane of existence, and he would still watch her die.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

Her voice shattered the silence of the night, illuminating the sorrow in his heart. Dan Feng could never truly hide his disposition from her, even if her eyes were failing her. It always seemed that her soul knows him far better than he knows himself. And it hurts more to know that one day, he’ll wake up alone on this bed, desperately denying that she just went out to get some water or start the day early, yet he knows otherwise…

“You’re crying…” She’d whisper, gently wiping away the tears that rolled over the bridge of his nose. He was never one to cry, the only time he did was when he married her.

“I don’t want you to go.” He admitted painfully, blanketing the hand that cradled his cheek in warmth with his own. “Please, don’t leave. Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Of course, she knew, that her lover was asking for the impossible. She knew it all too well. There existed no moment in her life where the reminder of her transience didn’t come back to haunt her.

It was foolish to even begin to think it would be possible to live amongst a kingdom draped in eternity, whose citizens would live to see the end of time—acting as though she, herself, was capable of such a feat.

It was foolish yet deep in her heart, she always wanted it to be true. Perchance hoping that spending a lifetime beside him wasn’t such a far-fetched dream, after all. That she wouldn’t have to be forced to leave him, to depart when he wasn’t ready to let her go.  

But no amount of pretending could stop her from seeing the signs of her true nature.

No amount of laughter could cover the lines of age marring her face. No smile could wipe away the tricks of time, cover for all that she’d lost for every sun she sees. No declaration of love could turn back the seconds, take her back to a moment where she radiated brighter than the skies.

It didn’t matter if she was wife to their High Elder, if she served him well, loved him enough to last his entire lifetime—he would remain. Dan Feng will continue to live far longer after she has passed from the face of the planet. And even when he’s the last living entity to remember her name, she would never return. That he’d come to see many suns she could only dream of. See places she’d only seen in painted scrolls. Meet the many people that would come after her, maybe even share that space in his heart that she had once made a home of.

Her existence was as fleeting as the winter zephyrs. Nothing but a blink in their immortal lives. 

And that hurts.

To have met someone so perfect for you and still lose them.

He could have fought off wars, plagues, killers… yet he would still lose her. No matter what. Because as formidable as he is, Dan Feng could not stop the march of time.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere…” She would assure, still, he knew otherwise… and Dan Feng was certain that she did, too.

“I’ll make a way. No matter the distance, I will find you.”

---

Yet the world remained unfair.

Because the laws won’t bend for two people who are in love. Time won’t stop for people who are in love. And fate doesn’t deter for those who are in love.

Dan Feng, guilty of an unpardonable sin.

“Jing Yuan! Please, I beg you.” A shrill cry cut through the chaos: desperate, tired, sad.

In light of past merit, the sentence shall be commuted to molting rebirth and eternal banishment.

When the general looked over his shoulder, there she was. The woman his dear friend sacrificed everything for. A thousand years’ worth of merit, power, and freedom, all for the immortality of a woman fated to die early.

“Please allow me to be with him.”

If he had no heart, Jing Yuan would have dragged her to the dungeons himself—chain her with her lover or better yet, have her carry the weight of the sin his dear friend paid in exchange for her life.

The Arbiter General would watch her succumb to insanity in the shackling prison, see how her mortal mind would fare against the curse they call immortality. If her love for him is as pure as she makes it out to be that she could withstand seeing everything else disappear while she remains… unchanging.

Jing Yuan wanted to, because who was she in comparison to the High Elder of the Vidyadhara? The honorable Imbibitor Lunae, Dan Feng… who had loved her more than life itself. More than freedom, more than glory… more than anything else the universe could offer. 

It was Dan Feng’s life for hers…

She is the only living monument to his sacrifice—a reminder of how he loved her so ardently that he would rather live in exile, forced to rebirth, than not have her in any life at all.

It was his life for hers.

And there was nothing in this universe that would make Dan Feng regret his choice.

She didn’t know how she could’ve stomached staying rooted to where she stood. Watching the soldiers take him away, putting him in chains like some sort of criminal.

For them, it was a heavy offense—to have wanted to live for a little longer because so it seemed, a life devoid of another was not a life worthy of living at all.

But they wouldn’t understand that. They never will. What use is the thought of loss among those destined to never succumb to it?

Dan Feng knew. It was taboo. Forbidden. Frowned upon by the Ten-Lords Commission—still, in his heart, her life was a treasure he’d suffer for just to keep.

“You don’t want a silent lover.” She remembers him saying these words the night she professed her love to him. Cradled under a thousand lanterns, a silly little mortal girl laid her heart open for him to break.

She figured that if it were to shatter to a thousand pieces because of him, then it’s fine. It would be alright. She’ll just pick up the pieces and live the rest of her days knowing her feelings reached him. It would be alright… eventually.

Even still, even as he knew that the two of them could never be—he remained hesitant to throw away the fervent affection she had so freely given to him.

“You shouldn’t.” Dan Feng was always quick to turn down all things fleeting that it always seemed like he’s got a stick shoved so far up his behind that it did all his talking for him.

But she remembers smiling at his words.

Sentiments plunged into the depths of the frozen seas yet were as gentle as the zephyrs sung in the vernal freshness of spring.

“You’re right.” She said, “I don’t want a silent lover.”

In the faintest slivers of silver light, she saw the reflection of his heart crack in those pools of sapphires. How strange, she thought back then. She was the one confessing… so why did he look so hurt when she accepted his unspoken rejection?

Dan Feng, no matter what point in his long life, could never truly find himself lying to her.

“I want you.”

And it was in that moment that he realized just how greatly mortals could love. How their love could never be measured. That they don’t cherish in ifs and buts, their affection is rooted in even ifs, and in spite ofs. If he would ask her ‘how long will you want me?’, ‘until when will you love me?’, he reckons that she won’t answer in lengths of time ‘for a thousand years, and a thousand more after that’, those words would never leave her mouth—and even if they did, they would be lies.

In the stutter of a breath, clear as the oceans of the waterscape, he saw the answers in her soft smile, etched upon her kind face, saturated in her gentle warmth. As long as you want me to.

“I want all of you. Your silence, your laughs, your smile. I want your touch, I want your soul, I want every second of your life—until you’d be sick of me, until you’re tired of me. There’s nothing under the heavens and through eternities I want more than you.”

Mortals love who their heart desires. Even if that love isn’t returned, they remain because there’s this little flickering hope that maybe one day it will. They love greatly. Unconditionally. There existed no greater love than that of the love of a mortal. They loved inordinately unlike those blessed with immortality who loved in multitudes.

“It’s true.” She whispers, albeit so faintly—tethered in every shade of hope, riddled in all the colors of acceptance for an answer yet to come. “I don’t long for a love blanketed in silence, my life is far too fleeting for such a luxury. But if stillness is where you are at peace—if it is all you have to offer, I’ll show you that I, too… am fluent in the language of silence.”

Dan Feng knew then that there will never be another creature that could rival her. No matter how long he’s lived, or he will live, there can never be another like her.

In this infinite vastness, how lucky was he… that she was right there, that she loved him of all people. In this space, in this rift in time… he had her, and she had him.

And in all the lives he’s lived, there was nothing that could compare to the happiness she’s brought to him.

Perhaps that’s why humans are fated for transience, that these glorious creatures are fated to die far earlier than the rest of the universe… so that they may never have a chance to fall from grace, that they may never suffer the horrors of eternity.

But Dan Feng tried to be greedy, once… just once.

For one mortal, for one human. Just once. Just this one time for his one love, for the one thing—one person he wanted more than anything. Only once did he ask the heavens a favor, this one time that he wanted to defy all else and choose the one person who made him whole.

Just one time… out the many times he could have taken it all, given it all up, but he didn’t.

Turns out, it only took his home one time, too… to forsake him. Have him stripped away from her and never to be seen.

Damned to rot in that godforsaken place until the ends of his days, moments in time that she dreaded to see—even when she was still hindered by the limits of her life.

Just one time, he wanted to selfish… and he is repaid in cruelty.

And the lover he gave his life for, descended into desperation at his loss… drowned in madness.

She remained in their home where he was most present, where his memories flourished, and with everything came him. Hell dressed in heaven’s clothing, because the General didn’t allow her to be anywhere else. Not on her deathbed nor the space beside her husband. A fitting punishment none would question.

A harsh slap to her face—a reminder that her life came at the price of his—that she was damned to a world without him. Forced to live a life Dan Feng had loved her in, fated to die in a universe he’d left her in.

Dan Feng’s demise reached her ears a few hundred years later.

He perished alone. In the depths of a cold dungeon. His soul lost amidst the stars.

And Jing Yuan would make it his life’s mission to shackle her into this world, never permitting her to die, forbidding her to leave.

Iterating the words over and over again, your life’s a blessing, a hard-fought, heavy-priced blessing, he would say it so much she began to believe he was doing it for his own sake. To remind himself that he could not kill her, that in doing so would anger his old friend, that it would render his sacrifice to ruin.

But she took one look at him, tired of all this suffering.

He would not let her leave, he would not let her die, and in doing so… he was not letting her live.

"Take a good look at me, General. See how the gift of life is when all else is gone."

Sunken eyes, dimmed to a fault. The woman she once was had long despaired at the loss of Dan Feng.

To be able to be with him until the end of his days was the sole purpose of her immortality. To have her live out the rest of eternities basking in his love, and him in hers.

Yet here she was, breathing in a world where all that she loves had ceased to exist.

Still, Jing Yuan would not relent.

In his head, he repeats the thoughts that if it hadn’t been for her, Dan Feng would still be alive. "He was my friend as well, don't tell me that it was only you who'd lost someone that day."

Angered and frustrated, she yelled at the white-haired man. "You have everything, General. How could you possibly fathom what it's like. For you, who's lived a thousand years before me and will live a thousand more after I've gone... what would you know? What do you know of how I feel? He was all that I have. He was everything. We were happy as we were, and you took him away. You passed the decree and watched them shackle him like a criminal, watched as they locked him up and took him away from me. You dare speak so brazenly about loss because you've never drowned in an ocean of it, lived your every waking moment with it following you around. I ask you again, look at me. See what life is like when everything has already gone."

Her words strike true.

Jing Yuan would never understand what it meant to lose someone, all the people he loved were as endless as the stars in the sky—yet it did not merit that none of them grew dim with time.

"What right did you have that it was deemed just for you to sacrifice countless of lives?"

In the wake of her grief, she broke through the shackling prison, mindlessly believing that its walls still held the lover she had lost a hundred years ago.

“Dan Feng, my love?” She’d whisper to the darkness as another body falls to the ground with loud thuds, lifeless. “I’m here… where are you?” The patters of her footfalls bounced from one bloodied prison cell to another.

“Let’s go home.”

“Dan Feng? The lanterns… I’ve seen them again. Come back to me… I beg you.”

“Please… don’t—don’t go where I can’t follow.”

‘The Mad Elder’, they call her. ‘The Weeping Widow’ was another. ‘Prison Breaker’ could have been one… if the person she set to free had not perished.

And for every reminder of her lonely soul, she took a life for it.

When she saw the empty chains, his cold cell, the remnants of his clothing—the only thing left of his existence—her screams echoed through the prison, falling desperately on her knees as she clutched the remainders of his life. Her breaths came in stutters as a waterfall of silver fell from her dimmed eyes.

Her fingers sunk into the cold concrete, clawing at it until her hands bled, as though it would help soothe the pain, to cease the never-ending darkness in her soul.

It never did.

"The lives of thieves! Don’t twist the truth.” She snarled.

“They were not yours to punish.” Jing Yuan spat back.

“And we were yours?” The woman scoffed, dragging a hand over her face as she looked to him with angered eyes brimmed with insanity. “What right did you have to take away our lives yet fight so valiantly to let sinners keep theirs?"

It wasn’t fair, she believed. "Did we not deserve to live, too, Jing Yuan? Were our lives nothing compared to the hundred thousand oath breakers that came before us?"

"They screamed for mercy!"

"And where were theirs’ when I begged for mine? For my husband's? For the two things I wanted to keep: him and his life! I asked for nothing more. No riches nor gold. Tell me, where was mercy when I asked for it?"

Jing Yuan had no words left to speak. He was tired, and she had reached the ends of her sanity.

“He’s never coming back.” He spat bitterly.

Those words tasted foul, a bitter truth that even now… he could still not bring himself to accept.

“That’s not true.” She shook her head in desperation, as though if she did it enough times, the General’s words would rescind, and she’d find her lover back home… back where he usually stays: on that bridge where she told him she loves him, the study, beside the window… anywhere, so long as she could find him.

Jing Yuan wanted to believe her words, that Dan Feng was not truly gone… that he was just out there, waiting to be found. He knew better…

The General raised his head to look at the crying woman, muttering endlessly to herself. Dan Feng. My love. The lanterns. Come back. Please. Don’t go. Don’t take him. Dan Feng. Come home. Where are you. I’m right here. I can’t find you. Come back. Don’t go.

“I’ll grant your request.”

Dan Feng is gone, he knew that. Jing Yuan knew that the moment he decreed his sentence. He knew better… but she didn’t.

“Go. Leave. Find him if you can, and when you do… don’t return. Live out the eternities far away from here.”

And after that, Jing Yuan never saw her again.

The only living monument to dear friend’s sacrifice—a reminder of how he loved her so ardently that he would rather live in exile, forced to rebirth, than not have her in any life at all. Dan Feng’s life for hers.

The woman the Arbiter General watched succumb to insanity in comforts of her home, saw how her mortal mind fared against the curse they call grief—to have been left in a world where another has gone.

Her love for him was as pure as she made it out to be that she couldn’t withstand seeing everything else disappear while she remains… unchanging.

Because what was the universe in comparison to the wife of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara? The honorable Imbibitor Lunae, Dan Feng… who had loved her more than life itself. More than freedom, more than glory… more than anything else the universe could offer. 

It was Dan Feng’s life for hers…

Because beyond her, nothing else was worth having.

She looked to the ends of the universe to find him, fragments of him scattered across the stars, pieces of him held by galaxies, even just the faintest warmth from the passing comets... anything. Because what cruelty had she made that it beckoned the heavens to punish her to live a life that promised solitude, a life stripped of happiness, live a long, lonely life devoid of him.

So, she scavenged the universe for magic that could bring him back, looked far and wide for a cure to her heartache, a cease to her sadness. A chance, a small inkling chance to feel his touch, a glimpse of his eyes, even a whisper of his voice.

There is a soul binder at the ends of the galaxy, find him and you will see your beloved again.

Fu Xuan was not one for lies yet she was not known for her truths either.

The soul binder she spoke of was the one the mad elder had sought, coincidentally stumbling—rather, piercing a sword straight through his chest.

"You fight good, lady!” He smiles, patting away the dirt that gathered on the base of his shoulders as though he had not just bled to death not a moment ago.

She looked to the man beside the once dead opponent, watching as he finished chanting a mumbled prayer before taking a huge swig of his liquor.

"How..." She breathed, stumbling closer to where the two of them struggled to their feet.

She’s seen countless of madness in this long, unfortunate life of hers. A talking trash can, ghosts of the past, the collision of galaxies, stars dying, a dragon—but not such sorcery as what he had done.

"Whoa there, lady. You're from the Alliance, aren't ya?" The man found his footing, blinking a couple of times to get the haze of death out from his eyes.

"For someone who's lived with immortals this sure seems like a party trick, yeah? No need to feign amazement. How many times has my friend here brought me back? Was it six? Seven?"

Friend? Was it not he who they call soul binder?

"Eight.”

She looked to the one who spoke, a gentle soothing tone so it seemed: the drunkard who muttered the enchantments.

How could such a foolish man hold that much power?

Perhaps he saw the accusation in her eyes, still… he was kind enough to ignore it.

“First was the Herrscher who threw you straight through an asteroid. Then you got stabbed by the local drunk. Assassinated for not paying your debts, his head was cut clean off, you see. Another was a spear right through the chest. The swordsman from Xianzhou a few decades back, the one with the white hair. Then his friend came to smooth things over, but you attacked him, that's General Jing Yuan now, I believe. And then the High Elder Vidyadhara because you looked at his wife funny and now..."

Before the man could finish his words, his friend’s joyous tune cut his thoughts short.

"That's a lot of people from where you hail, missy. You'd think I'd learn after getting my life taken from me by one of them. Seems I got a knack for baiting them lot from Xianzhou." He laughs boisterously, like the matter of his life getting swiped from under his nose was a hilarious story fit for every stranger he passes.

His friend thought otherwise. The man who brought the laughing fellow took a good look at the woman who stood before them, quite possibly assessing the magic behind it all.

She remained unchanging in her behavior, still so stiffly holding onto her weapon. But her eyes shone with a flicker of hope, dim, faint in the kindest words... yet it was there, fighting desperately against the ties holding them in the depths of her soul.

Then he realized.

Amidst all the chaos, he was bound to forget. It had happened so long ago, and he was fortunate enough to have taken hold of that memory before it slipped. Still, he questioned how he could have, when he fought every star and sacrificed his very life to try and bring back his friend.

He elbowed the joyous man in his gut, hitting the spot where a spear was once tangled in his guts.

"Ow! What the hell—"

The same friend who was sent to the borders of death…

"You're the wife of the High Elder, aren't you?"

…by the Vidyadhara High Elder.

Wife… of you, my love. How long has it been since someone has last called me that? Since you had called my name. I don’t want to admit it, and I think I’d die if I ever do—but it hurts.

My love… it hurts.

I don’t remember you anymore. Not your face, not your voice… not even your touch. Still, I know that you’re the only one I have ever wanted yet, you were taken away from me.

And all the time in the plane of existence couldn’t fill the hole you left behind.

"How did you bring him back?" The woman ignored his question, eyes remaining on the man who, not nearly ten minutes ago was sprawled on the floor swimming in his blood, and now was overflowing with joy as though he had never been struck in the first place.

Her voice came in gentle whispers, at first. Yet when the two strangers remained silent, her voice took on desperation. "Tell me this instant! How did you get him back!"

"Tell me!"

"You're the Mad Elder." There was no joy in his words, how could he bring himself to laugh when this woman was the reason he nearly kicked the bucket after cheating death six times.

"How did you bring him back!" The woman took hurried steps towards the two men, pointing the blood-stained sword in their direction, eyes laden with the frenzied desire to know what sorcery could resurrect the dead.

It was him. The man who could bring it all back. The one told among the galaxy to have magic that could defy the laws of the Aeons. Spoken so highly of by Fu Xuan. The trickster who she would pay his weight in gold if he could help her.

“Please, we mean no harm.” They yielded, fearful of her wrath and that of the man whom they’ve yet to know was the reason for her unyielding tenacity—the one who had already perished a long time ago.

Her heart ached at the reminder of his memory. The way he must have stood above these younglings many moons ago because they dared to disrespect her, to taint her honor—that he’d be damned if he let anyone shame her. He was always so uptight, that one. His entire presence demanded attention, and the mention of his name could have armies scurrying back to whence they came.

How wretched of her to sow fear into their hearts with the seeds of her lover’s legacy.

"Could you bring back a man who lost his soul?” She asks softly, lowering her weapon, hearing it graze the stoney path.

“I don't need you to bring him back eight times.”

For so long she dug up the universe in search for magic that could bring him back. Looked far and wide for a cure to her heartache, a cease to her sadness. A chance, a small inkling chance to feel his touch, a glimpse of his eyes, even a whisper of his voice.

“Just once."

Just once, and it would be enough. Once, just one time… not ten nor twenty… please, just one time.

The man looked at her in sorrow like there could exist no other creature as unfortunate as her, that he wouldn’t wish her life on his or anyone else.

Because to live in a world where another has gone, is a fate far crueler than death.

He spoke no words, yet she knew his silence meant no. And that alone answered all the questions in her head.

She felt tears pooling in her eyes. How long has it been, truly? To have been faced with the grueling reality that he was long gone. Dan Feng. Far beyond the hands of any magic. Out of reach from even the greatest of spells.

Seems that the Arbiter General was right.

Dan Feng is gone.

And he was never coming back.

No matter how many times she circled this infinite universe over and over and over again, she would never find him.

And no power in all the cosmos could ever change that.

---

So why is she met with a man who looked so much like him?

His eyes were as bright as the skies of a Xianzhou she knew so well, as sharp as the blades that she used to cut all those who threatened to hurt him. His hair that fell like an obsidian waterfall over his slender figure. Horns that stretched far above the horizons of his forehead, as though they wanted nothing but to reach the heavens above.

And for what seemed like an eternity underneath the heavens, the voices in her head grew silent, speaking in the language he knew oh so well.

But his soul was different.

Her eyes might deceive her, shown her this creature bearing the same face to soothe her spiralling grief. He might have the same features—the mirror image of a man she knew once upon a time… but now, her heart knew better.

Yet it did not stop its traitorous orchestra, a hymn of joy… a song for peace for a love once lost, now found.

After all these years, no matter how many people I meet, the suns that have passed me by... I still love you.

“I’m not him.”

His voice shattered the silence of twilight, illuminating the sorrow in her heart.

Of course, she knew that.

More than anyone else could ever fathom. She knew that. Above all else, that much… she understood.

She was always an open palm for him to read, even if his memories of her were long gone. It always seemed that his soul knows her far better than she knows herself.

And it hurts more to know that this time, she’ll wake up alone on their bed, finally coming to terms that he was never coming back, that looking for him in this man was pointless because he doesn’t exist anymore.

You left me. You passed… quite strange a thing for someone like you to do. You came into my life with nothing but your love to offer… yet when you left, you took away everything with you. Scattering the lands with reminders of your existence that it remains, even after your death, for all the eternities to come. That I’ll live under the heavens without you. The sun will rise in the east and set in the west and I’ll look to you, only to find you nowhere. Through every passing lifetime, I’ll look for you—and look and look and look. In every corner, every world, every planet formation… I’ll look.

At the end of the day, when I reach a standstill, I’ll know—that I wouldn’t be able to find you, not in him or in anywhere else in this infinite nothingness because the place you’d gone to was… unreachable.

And no power in this cursed long life of mine could change that.

But what will you have me be? What would you have me do? Who will you want me to become?

Tell me, and I’ll do it.

I’ll do it… if it gets you to come home.

If I can have you even for a moment longer, I’ll do it.

You only need to tell me, and I’ll make it so.

She found it hilarious. The galaxy could have fallen, stars fading in the wake of her grief, spent eternity collecting the dust to reform him. Tie a lasso around the suns, bottle every planet in the cosmos, hang the constellations in the sky in his image. All for him.

I’d give you the cosmos, if you asked me. I’d give it all up, if you asked me. I’d give you all of the time if I could—even just a little bit of it, if I could.

And should the Aeons decide to divide the universe… you could have mine.

“He’s gone.”

She knew that better than anyone.

But if you came to me, with a face I have not seen… a voice… I had not heard, a touch I have yet to feel.

I would still know you.

Even if lifetimes separated you from me, I would still feel you.

Somewhere out there, throughout the heavens and eternities, between the constellations and stardust, in every rebirth and reform, in death and destruction… know that once upon a time, there existed you and me.

I was writing this while making a script for a report >< and I had to type very carefully to make sure I didn't accidentally make writing progress on the wrong document 😭 buuuut, here's my year-long grief of not getting imbibitor lunae on his first run in hsr (I quit because of that 👹) This is longer than my case study 💀

if you get the references in this, I love you (that series has broken my heart to a thousand pieces)

[justafewsmallsteps]

omg omg it’s @inuvember day 19: Inuyasha & Kagome

I didn’t have anything planned so I threw this together quickly. Here’s some super rushed and rough art and a drabble from an AU I’d like to call “What If (we made out all over Feudal Japan)?” where… well…… I think you get it.

What If?

Kagome sucked in her lips, biting down on them from inside with nervous uncertainty. He wasn’t doing well. 

If a quick kiss worked to heal him, just a little bit, then… What would a longer kiss do? Work the same? Work better? 

“C-can I try… the thing?” she asked. 

“Kiss me?” He asked, barely able to focus on her. 

“You lost so much blood, and the poison is–”

“I’m human, I dunno if it’ll work.” 

“I know, but I have to try something.” She was blinking back her tears.

Even blinking felt like work. “Yeah… okay.” 

Kagome bent down and turned his face gently to hold it with a trembling hand. 

Please let this work, she thought desperately as her lips settled over his chapped ones. Instead of pulling away quickly as she did the times before, she lingered, pressing a little harder too. Please work, please work, please work. 

Tears fully glossing her eyes, Kagome finally pulled back just a little. She clung painfully onto the bit of hope in her heart. 

“Anything?” She whispered as a heavy drop fell. 

“I dunno… but that was… nice,” he sighed. 

She pouted, voice thickened by a stuffy nose from crying. “You said it was gross to kiss me.” 

Inuyasha furrowed his brow, like he was trying to remember. “Sorry. That… was a lie…” 

A blush erupted onto her face. Was that…? Was he being sweet? “Oh god, you’re delirious aren’t you? You’re–” 

“Kagome,” he interrupted. “I think…” 

She heard a light scratch at the floor and saw his hand shift. “You can move?” she gasped, the hope suddenly bursting. 

“Yeah, I’m starting to get some feeling back. I think it worked a little.” 

Kagome practically leapt back onto him, kissing him fiercely with both hands cupping his cheeks. She pulled back and kissed him again and again until she felt him grip her arms. 

“Woah there, Kagome.” 

She only moved back a few inches. “It worked, right? So—“ 

His face was redder than his haori. Hers follows his example. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, pushing himself to sit up slightly. “It’s working, alright.” 

Clearly the numbness was fading and her tactics were effective. That didn’t ease their embarrassment. 

She nearly huffed, “What’s the problem?” 

“Just give it a minute. No amount of kissing is going to turn me back into a hanyou, so we’re still screwed until sunrise.” 

“I’m still mad at you about that. You should’ve told me. You should’ve trusted me with that much! Now we’re here.” She wanted to shout, but with Shippou and Nazuna sleeping in the corner, she kept her words to an angry hush. Still, the overwhelmed tears caught his attention. 

He pursed his lips. “Why were you—are you—crying?” 

Kagome let out an indignant sound. “Because I’m frustrated and scared! I thought you were going to die, I thought we all were going to die. We still might. This sucks!” It was a childish way to end her sentiment, but screw it! It did suck! 

“Why… did you kiss me?” 

She almost sputtered. “Because I need you to get better!” 

“To save you?”

“To not die, you idiot! I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” She scrubbed her face angrily. Why was he being so weird? 

Then he spoke, soft but firm, “One more.” 

Kagome blinked. “One more what?” 

“Time,” Inuyasha said, and without warning pulled her closer to lock their mouths together. 

And he was right. 

It was nice… His lips have warmed up, even though they’re dry and rough. It’s the first time that this feels mutual–not just contact between two bodies. It feels almost like this is real…

“Sorry,” Inuyasha muttered when they came apart. “I still couldn’t feel my toes.” 

Funny, since Kagome felt hers tingling—her toes to her spine, to her fingertips, to the very top of her head. 

She felt out of breath when she asked him, “Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah,” his hand came up to her cheek. “I can feel things again.”