#someone new to be clear the guy who did it at birth barely even fucking knew me

[peach-pot]

done with this gender bs, someone just assign me a gender, you fucking do it I quit.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Run and Hide

🩸Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, mpreg), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, past abuse, cursing, recent murder, feds being awful, boys in trouble, labor pains, improper use of hand sanitizer, giving birth, slightly graphic descriptions of birth and after birth, improper tools for the job, secrets coming out, hurt/comfort, Dom putting his foot in his mouth, Dom being a momentary idiot, past miscarriage, scared boys, baby fear (just for a moment), naughty thoughts in the wrong situation, baby worship, cliffhanger, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: mature

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

The Alpha couldn't answer at first, his mind was racing with too many thoughts. He needed to get The Doctor back, he needed to get his lover out, he needed to get him comfortable, he needed- “You should ask ya mum. I left to follow ‘er because we found out she'd been taking money from the business.” He explained simply. That shouldn't be too overwhelming and he hoped it would get the subject dropped. He walked back over to the door and noticed Doc fighting with someone in a uniform. She was obviously out. Fuck.

He didn't attempt to open the door, there were too many guns trained on him so instead he thought he'd take his mate to their flat. The moment he reached the other man to pick him up the power around them went out and the overhead lights switched from their normal to the back up emergency red. “What the fuck!” Colson growled out, his body tense with contractions. He did not want to have his baby crouched in the fucking lobby next to two dead bodies! “They're all fucking dead! Right? You killed them!”

“Course. Probably jus’ don't know. ‘Ang on luv.” He soothed but the glare he got for it was withering.

“To what? You want me to push Punk’s head back up? Want me to vacuum the little brat? I'm tight Dom but I'm not fucking- fuck! Magic!” The pains were coming faster, barely any time between them and the omega wanted to scream. Of course this would be his luck. Was he really about to be outed on national news?

Dom scoffed before trying to swallow the pit in his throat and he pulled his phone free of his pocket. He dialed Tom’s number and was thankful as hell when the other man answered. “Dom! Fuck- What's happening inside?”

“Inside? Fuck tha’! Wha's 'appening outside? Power went out. I need Doc! I need to get Cols out!”

“Don't! The head guy doesn't know who's who inside. They said even if everyone is dead they can't allow anymore in or out until they send SWAT to clear the whole place and disarm the bombs.” Tom's voice was worried and obviously annoyed with the people in control of the situation.

“Well send ‘em the fuck in! We about to ‘ave a baby in ‘ere. Do ‘ey give a fuck?”

The omega on the other end sighed, Dom could feel his fear and anger. It was sweet honestly, he knew the man wanted to be with them to support his new brother. “I think there's someone higher up trying to use this to their advantage. I've heard whispers about checking our flat for evidence. You have to remember who Kells is to them. Do you want me to explain the emergency?” They both knew the gravity of doing so. To explain the coming child they would be outing Colson as an omega. The leader of one of the biggest crime families in America. Shite.

“No. Fuck. I can do ‘is.” Dom took a deep breath and looked back at his mate. He would do anything to protect him. “So it ain't obvious yet?” His gaze flicked out over the scene outside, over all the crowd gathered and the news crews.

“Not yet. He's too far inside. It's being speculated he was hurt. Can you get him behind the counter?”

“Yeah. I got ‘is.” The Alpha wasn't sure if he did in fact have it but he had to act in control to keep his lover calm. He was confident his best friend was about to agree with him but the line went dead and he heard a funny noise through his phone. When he pulled it away and looked at the screen he realized he suddenly had zero bars. The fuckers were using a jammer? They were going to be completely cut off in a sea of probably thousands paying attention to them. The juxtaposition made him dizzy.

He took one last calming deep breath before turning to set to work. He started by ripping the cushions off the nearby chairs to lay behind the counter in a half arsed nest attempt. When he heard a sound besides his lover's groans he pulled the gun from his waistband and turned to aim but the barrel ended up pointed at Blain and he dropped it automatically. “Why the fuck ain't you outside wiv the Doc?” The Alpha growled, he already had a mate and child in this mess, he didn't need the other one caught inside with the explosives.

“I were making sure everyone died, fanks. Tryna help, not tha’ you deserve it.” The boy was obviously overwhelmed and still terrified and Dom instantly felt awful for snapping. He paused his work to give the kid a quick hug.

“Fanks for tha’. You did good. Can ya ‘elp wiv ‘is? Go find me clean blankets and towels alright?” He was honestly deep down happy to have the young omega with them, he wasn't alone in taking care of Colson.

Blain ran off to do as he was asked and Dom got busy again until his mate asked him a follow up to his earlier query. “So mom got money, why is that bad? It's her company too. She can take what she wants. Why the hell would you follow her for it?” Dom was surprised at how scary the man was even crouching on the floor in pain. His growling voice urged the Alpha to submit.

“Because it were a crazy amount. The boys was worried so I jus’... Figured I'd check. She were sending money to the ‘ospital.” He hoped that would be enough to satisfy his lover's wondering but of course not. It could never be so easy.

“And? She loves that place. She's been obsessed with it since Travis died. She spends a lot of time there. I'm glad she has something to keep- fuck! To keep b- busy.” The omega tried to keep his mind on other things than the feeling of his body ripping apart from asshole to dick. It was madness that anyone would do this shit more than once. Could anything be worth it?

Dom couldn't stop himself from snorting a laugh. “Course she was.” He grumbled and startled when the emergency phone on the wall rang. They shared a look but he answered it and almost cheered aloud when he heard Mod on the other end.

“They don't know about this one. It's running on the backup. How's it going in there?” The beta asked.

“Oh ya know, jus’ about to ‘ave a baby. You?” He knew he shouldn't be glib but he couldn't help it. The whole ordeal was absolutely mental. He was sure if everything went smoothly they'd laugh about it one day but he was pissed that the government was risking his family.

“Probably worse actually. You should be glad you're stuck in there. Collette showed up.” That one sentence told Dom all he needed to know but Mod still held the phone in the direction of raised voices. He could hear Tim shouting and he wondered why he sounded so affected by the situation he knew was playing out. He sounded more heartbroken than anything.

“You doing alright?” He paused to ask, he cared about the beta and he knew this might upset him. He could on occasion show he had something resembling heart.

“I'm just scared for Cols.”

“Me too. But one fing at a time.”

“He doesn't know?”

“Can't tell ‘im yet. Baby first.”

“I fucking heard that asshole!” Kells cursed from his spot on the floor and Dom huffed, putting the phone on speaker as Blain came back with blankets. They set about to get the nest more comfortable before he moved to pick up his lover and carry him to the more hidden and comfortable spot. He could scent the pain rolling off his mate and it broke his heart. He wished he could take it all away. “Mod?” The man's voice went soft when he realized he could hear his best friend.

“Hey brother, sounds like you're having fun.” The beta teased.

“Oh fuck you, it's the worst. I'm never doing this shit again! Don't you dare fucking knock up Tom. I'll cut your dick off for him.” He could hear the other omega laughing and he flushed. He hadn't realized they were on speaker as well.

“Where did you get the idea we'd even-”

“Oi come off it bruv, we ain't tha’ daft.” Dom rolled his eyes.

“Actually you'd be surprised. Guess who's door I found out swung both ways and I never fucking noticed?” Col knew it wasn't the right time but he couldn't help needing to gossip with his partner. Dom was always the first person he told everything to.

Dom arched a brow as pieces started falling in place, the puzzle that was taking shape almost made him laugh. No wonder Tim was shouting before. He was honestly surprised they couldn't still hear him. “Who?” He went ahead and let his man tell him, he knew how much fun it was for him. Even when he knew the news already or Colson had already told him he let him say it again.

“Travis! Him, Tim, and mom were all together. Although I guess Tim was more fruity than Trav cause-” Col was cut off by a few cleared throats on the other side of the phone and he blushed. Oops. He'd forgotten they were on the phone and on speaker on top of that.

“I'm not sure about fruity but I'm not the one with a closet Barbie threw up in.” The older beta teased and the omega wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out.

“Got a point. Luv, time to strip.” Dom’s tone took on something more no-nonsense. They could play fuss all they wanted to distract the man but someone had to get the baby out safely.

Colson’s eyes went wide as he looked around, they were thankfully hidden from the windows but he still felt exposed. He was tempted to ask his lover to carry him up to their apartment but he knew better. He'd end up giving birth on the damn stairwell. Dom didn't give him time to worry, he just pulled Col’s messy shoes off and started tugging his pants and underwear down. Everything was probably ruined and it pissed him off but at least it wasn't his normal clothes. He'd already decided he wasn't having more kids, he could stand to lose the pregnancy pants. The shoes however…

“Bloody ‘ell!” The young omega cursed when he got an accidental look between Col’s thighs. The Alpha gave him a chiding look but turned a bit pale when he looked.

“You both get off on ripping people apart but this is too much? Fuck you!” He could feel tears burning his eyes but he fought them back. He knew logically he'd balk at the sight so he couldn't blame them. He was just glad he couldn't see.

“No luv, it's beautiful!” The killer tried to fix it but his voice broke like the teenager he actually was and multiple people snorted at his lie. Those on the phone couldn't see thankfully but they could imagine. “‘Ey, Colson- it's our baby coming, yeah you a mess but you beautiful. Don't listen to ‘em.”

When the Alpha pressed his forehead to Col’s and tried to breathe with him it soothed something in the man's chest. So what his pussy was a wreck? “Not like you ever get to use it again.” He huffed through grit teeth. His contractions were constant and the burn was insane. He was sure he was being roasted over an open flame. He wanted to make a joke about nuts and fires but he wasn't sure anyone would understand.

“Baby? Can you hear me?” Collette’s soft voice was music to his ears and a sob broke free as Dom gave him space and handed him the phone.

“Mom? I need you.” Both boys gave him a soft look and he thought he saw their eyes wet too but all he could focus on was her and the pain rushing through him.

“No you don't. You have your family and I'm here but you can do this. You don't need me and you don't need Doc. Your body knows what to do. Listen to it.” She kept her voice even and sweet and it loosened something tight and dark in his chest. He hadn't realized how young and small and helpless Megan had made him feel but she had broken something inside him when he had to agree with her. He could still feel her cut searing but it was all blending together. He just hoped he didn't get rabies from her shank ass.

“Why the fuck would you say that? The last time I listened to my stupid body I let an idiot Alpha knock me up!” He cried back and Dom gave him a blinding smile. Psycho bitch. He was adorable.

“Are you trying to tell me that's not the first good decision of your life?” She huffed.

“Fanks mum.” The Alpha smiled brighter, of course she would be sucking up to him though but he was so messed up and terrified deep down he'd take what he could get.

“Yeah, thanks. Trying to make him cockier? I can promise you he doesn't need the damn h-help- shit!” Another cramp locked his body up and he suddenly didn't feel he was in the right position. He could feel Punk moving inside him and laying down felt wrong.

He handed the phone to Blain who moved to his side and Dom held him steady as he rolled to all fours before kneeling on the cushions and spreading his legs wide. He gripped the edge of the counter to hold himself up and his mate frog crouched behind him, his strong hands rubbing kinks out of his lower spine but the relief was distant.

“See? Just listen to your body. You know what to do.” Collette hummed and he arched a brow, looking around for hidden cameras or a peep hole somewhere. It turned out she just knew his ass that well and he hoped he could end up half the mother she was.

“Hey bitches! Hey Batman, can you tell me how dilated Col is?” The Doctor spoke up and Dom blinked a moment before realizing he was Batman.

“Batman? Fuck that. Absolutely not. He doesn't get to play hero. He's Dexter for fucks sake!” Colson complained and the Alpha had to agree.

“You can tell me that again after you're not hating him for the baby. Now Dom, I need you to put your fingers together and try to fit them inside him. Tell me how many go easy.”

“Sounds like most our nights but alright.” The killer teased and got a laugh from his mate.

It was taking Dom too long to make a move and Kells started getting nervous. He heard a zip and a strange noise and he looked in time to see the fucker holding a lighter under his fingers. “Holy shit! There's alcohol right the fuck there!” Col’s voice went high and the Alpha shrugged but moved to find the sanitizer his lover noted. After cleaning his hands he shook them dry and slid his touch where he was supposed to. “Of all the psycho shit-” His complaint was cut off as Dom pulled free, the way the other man acted told Col he was in more shock than he was trying to let on. More than anything he wanted them to hold each other and connect but they'd have to wait. He just looked forward to the entire mess being over. There was too much happening all at once.

“Four.” The boy explained, sucking his fingers clean but he'd already forgotten about the sanitizer and he made a face. That was alright, he could lick his lover clean after the birth.

“Damnit. It looks like this is happening without the rest of us. Col? Like your mom said you can do this. Listen to yourself and that baby, let them help. You'll be fine.” The Doctor soothed but the omega had a hard time believing it. He'd spent his life denying and hating what he was and hiding it with anything that worked. Hell, he'd entered the hotel with a jacket covering his belly and his glasses still on. He took blockers for the first week of his pregnancy and he'd been fighting himself and lying every step of the way. How could he listen to his body now? How would it know what to do? He'd been faking Alpha so long it was hard to believe there was any omega left.

“You can do this mumma. We got you.” Blain spoke softly but surely and he reached out a hand to lay over one of Colson's. He'd said the word before as a joke but he sounded so serious now. “They wiv us too. Watching over yas. Ya dad and ya baby.”

Kells didn't know if he believed in an afterlife, he liked the thought of his enemies burning in hell but the rest of it sounded so far-fetched. Besides if Satan was real he was already a devil on Earth, but the thought of Travis being with him and his lost child too… He couldn't make himself smile but he nodded at the boy. Dom went quiet but he didn't have the strength to interrogate him.

“I fink it's time to push.” The boy squeezed his hand and Colson had to agree, he could feel the baby dropping even further down.

“Can I at least have drugs?” He couldn't help but tease. Even a joint would be heaven.

“As a wise woman said to me earlier today, nut up buttercup. You can do wiv'out. You the strongest man I know. Plus…” Dom knew it was a risk and might have the complete opposite effect. He could make the comment and piss his mate off but he still leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Sooner you ‘ave our baby and ‘eal, the sooner you can fuck me proper.” He purred before sitting back and adding- “Besides, you take me knot all the time, Punk's bound to be smaller.”

There was a noise like a scoff from the phone and even though Colson partially hated his lover in the moment he had to defend the truth. They all deserved a little shame anyway and he wanted to fuck with everyone. “He's not wrong. Monster fucking cock on this wanker.” He stole an insult from his partner and beared down. While Dom was correct it still wasn't the fucking same, his knot didn't have shoulders or legs or nails.

The pain burning through him made time blur for the omega, he was overwhelmed and crying out with every breath. He knew he probably sounded insane as he growled and cursed and grunted, but he didn't care. Anything to get him through it. Dominic stayed close and kept soothing him the entire time, rubbing his back and whispering encouragement. Colson wouldn't admit it but the promise his lover gave helped him more than almost anything, he kept the picture of the killer on his belly with his ass in the air in the front of his mind and let everything else drift.

Every time someone said “push” he tried, he felt like one of Yungblud's victims with his organs gushing out between his thighs but he knew that wasn't the case. It was a fucking human. He was pushing a human being out. Oh fuck. In a quiet moment between tries as the Alpha leaned close and kissed his temple and licked over his split lip the man whimpered. “I can't fucking do it. I've been shitty to them. No wonder they don't want to come out. They can feel how awful I've been.”

“‘Ush tha’. You ain't been awful. You fink I ain't caught you in the shower? I know why you want alone time luv. I ‘ear yas. You a good mum already and our lil one knows it. Wha' ya mean ‘ey ain't wanna come out? It's a monf early! Punk can't wait to meet yas. Jus' breave wiv me and push. Already almost done.” Dom gently took his hand and led it between his legs where he felt something strange poking out of him. He was so lost to pain it took him a moment to realize it was his baby.

Dom sat back again and Kells leaned back against his chest, one arm wrapping around his lover's neck. The Alpha held him up as he grit his teeth for the next contraction and pushed like his life depended on it. He knew it did quite literally but it did figuratively as well. His entire life was about to begin in earnest with his whole family. Colson was pretty sure he was putting every sailor to shame with his mouth but it was better than focusing on how bizarre he felt. He could tell when his baby's shoulders were out, their hips, and finally those little feet they'd been kicking him with. Blain had set the phone down to get a towel ready and help catch the infant, and the kid sat back gently cleaning them once they were free.

Dominic helped his mate settle back on the nest and eased him out of his jacket and shirt. They shared a nervous look when the baby didn't automatically cry. You could have heard a pin drop as they listened for its first breath. Blain must have been told something by The Doctor when they weren't paying attention because he pulled the baby close and put his mouth over their tiny face? What the fuck?

Colson felt he could breathe again at the sound of his child's first cry. Frankly he thought he might join the little brat but when Dom took the baby to help lay them on Col’s chest his brain went quiet of everything but them. Their breath, their whimpers, all he could see was their scrunched up face and so small hands. His mate got their child comfortable against his chest and a shiver went through him. Something clicked into place in his heart, mind, and soul. “Oh, it was you.” He didn't know what he meant by that, the one he was waiting for? The one he was living for? The reason he existed at all? It didn't have to make sense, he knew it was all fucking true.

Dom pulled the towel away so he could look over his child. The emergency lights made everything red but at least he could see the important bits. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, and a perfect button nose. Rose bud lips wide open to scream their displeasure. Honestly the Alpha understood. Fuck the world, all that mattered was what he had in front of him.

“Looks like another boy to me.” Blain hummed, staying close but seemingly scared to interrupt too much. Dom pulled him closer and the boy smiled, reaching out to pet the baby's belly.

After a moment the little one settled down and opened his eyes enough Dom noticed something. His brows furrowed from nerves and he gently checked between his son's legs. “An alpha boy.” He whispered and swallowed hard. It didn't change how much he loved him already but the fear still tickled the back of his mind. ‘With you as a dad there's no way they'll turn out like them.’ The words his mate had said months ago circled his mind and he tried so desperately to believe him.

“Perfect Alpha boy. Just like Daddy.” Kells sniffled and forced his gaze away from his son to meet Dom’s eyes. It was something they'd both feared but now that he was here he felt silly for worrying. His son wouldn't grow up to hurt people, at least not in a bad way. With his father for example he would be kind and loving and perfect. Those little red eyes turned to him as he looked between the baby's and Dom's, a matching set and both so beautiful. “Shit I'm being roofied.”

Dom snorted a laugh and realized he was crying softly too. “Wha’ ya mean?” He asked and the omega huffed.

“All those fucking baby hormones. Bitches are making me a pussy but look at him.” They had to admit Punk was amazing.

“Bit messy innit? Suppose we all are.” Blain joked, wiping a bit more gunk off the infant. All of them were soaked in blood and worse but it didn't matter. “Family of fucked up we is.”

Colson grinned but he could feel something wrong inside him. He wanted to bask in the moment but it felt like he was still having contractions. “Something- fuck. Dom?” He whimpered, looking to the killer as if he could solve all the world's problems.

“Hey Batman?” The Doctor asked from the other end of the phone. The Alpha huffed and picked it up, his heart in his throat. What else could possibly be wrong? They'd just had a baby fucks sake. “You have to clip the cord and maybe even help him with the afterbirth.” She explained and his brows scrunched up. The bloody what now?

Kells felt like facepalming against Punk’s little hand, he knew to expect that but he'd been so wrapped up in his littlest man. “Do what you have to. Just don't interrupt us.” He grumbled, pulling the baby higher on his chest. He could hear The Doctor explaining but he didn't care. He just wanted to stare at his new love forever.

The Alpha arched a brow as he listened but handed the phone to the young omega and then he searched around for something to tie off the cord. Eventually he settled on ripping the bottom of his shirt and dipping it into the alcohol. It didn't quite feel safe enough but if he lit it on fire it would just burn away. He could tell his mate was starting to hurt more by the sweat on his brow but the man just watched their boy. It was a beautiful sight. He gently pet over his son's belly before tying the strip of cloth around the cord and close to his skin. He had no idea what he was doing but it felt right. The other strip went around it closer to Col’s core and the moment he was close he found it oddly difficult not to… play. He'd never thought himself too Alpha, in fact he fought it every day of his life. In that moment with his whelp on his mate's chest he was warring with his instincts more than ever.

He forced himself to pull back and he searched for one of his blades. When he couldn't find one he looked to Blain but the kid just shrugged and nodded in the direction of Megan. Dom cursed under his breath and stalked over to her, his head tilting when it looked as if she moved. He was sure she was dead but his anxiety was running high. He pulled the knife out of her guts and fought his urge to flay her skin. He didn't need to follow his ritual, he needed to help his lover. His family. He had to be a father and Alpha first. He had to learn priorities.

Blain watched his new father figure as he wiped off the blade and pulled out his lighter and the man tried to sterilize the metal. He held the flame close as he walked back over and parts of it looked almost red hot by the time he settled between Colson's spread legs. The boy was confused at what was happening, he didn't understand birth and was legitimately fucking terrified after watching it. Alphas didn't scare him for shite really but after seeing what unfolded he knew his adoptive mum was a badass. He tried to unobtrusively slip his hand in Colson's so the man could squeeze him if anything hurt. “Got a name yet?” He asked, trying to keep their minds busy. He wanted to help however he could to prove he could finally belong somewhere.

Dom shared a look with his partner but it was mostly playful. Kells had refused to talk about it once since they got together. It was too soon, or not safe, and they shouldn't get attached, which the Alpha called bollocks every time to no avail. He had ideas but he wouldn't force it. They didn't need one right away.

Col flushed under his mate's teasing glare before Dom dropped his eyes to go back to his work. He tried to ignore it as he cut the umbilical cord but he could feel his need to push growing. “I was too scared to come up with one. Maybe you can help us?” The omega offered and the teen smiled so bright before trying to control himself.

“Yeah tha’ might be cool.” Blain cleared his throat. They didn't need to know how attached he already felt. He grimaced when the grip on his palm got tighter but it didn't hurt. He trusted them both and knew they'd never cause him pain. It almost enraged him how much he trusted them. He'd not even known them a bloody month, but Dominic saved him and they both took him in. There was just something about them that made him feel safe.

Punk’s little lips screwed up again as if he were going to scream but after a moment he just mouthed at Col’s chest and it took the man a second to realize what he needed. “Oh. Ohhh- I'm supposed to let you find it right?” He asked like the baby could reply but when that whimper started up again he had to help him latch. He knew he'd find his own way eventually but it didn't make sense to let him cry. The first pull at his nipple was a shock to his system, he hadn't even let Dom play with his tits much in weeks. He was too worried about exactly this but now that it was happening he was enraptured. “Look at you. Mouth just like your Daddy too.”

Dom laughed, his eyes going wide but he knew his lover was a mess of oxytocin and other bonding hormones. He was pretty sure he was too because so much of him wanted to suck his mate clean with his mouth. He damn well knew Colson wouldn't like that though, at least not in their current situation. He made himself calm down and focus on the task at hand and the next few minutes were a blur of scents and sounds of pain. Once the afterbirth was free he set it aside in a bag, confused about what exactly he should do with it. Blain made a face but was mostly focused on the other man and he was happy to see his family bonding. He wanted nothing more than to lay with them and snuggle but he had to get them out of this mess.

The Alpha laid a towel over his lover's lower body and pressed a kiss to his son's cheek and his partner's forehead. He got a growl for ruffling Blain's hair but he just grinned back before standing up to take the phone and start looking around. The SWAT team should have been inside by now, the bomb squad at least. The fact that no one was coming in had him scared but as he walked to the front door it swung open. “Well fuck.” He sighed, a little surprised and annoyed at who had entered. When the man raised a gun in his direction he furrowed his brow- they'd had a discussion earlier that day but he didn't think it went that bad.

“You- you're- you?” A wet voice sounded behind him in shock before a cough and he turned to see Megan trying to sit up like every villain in every horror movie he'd ever seen. He knew he'd only shot her in the upper chest but he thought coupled with the stab wound it would have been enough.

The gun in front of him went off and he saw her fall back with a mess of white and gray matter spraying the wall behind her. His nose wrinkled and his ears hurt. Bullets were just so brutal. No artwork. “Head shots always put the bitches down.” The Alpha wanted to tell the newcomer to shut the fuck up, Colson possibly couldn't see them from where he was hidden and he didn't want him finding out yet. It was too much for his system.

Dom would swear he felt the air go cold and even his son's suckling went quiet a moment. His head was a mess of protecthurtcomfort but he couldn't stop this train from going off the rails. “Is that- it can't be.” Col's voice sounded so young and broken. Dom could tell it wasn't the first bad reaction the man might have gotten, his lip was split and he had a black eye. Neither had been there when they met earlier in the day.

He stepped closer to the other and got in his face. It was a warning not to hurt his mate anymore than he had to. He knew deep down this could be good for his partner but healing would take time if he ever fully could. The man smiled at him and nodded as if he was proud, Dom couldn't care less in the moment, not after everything. The only people he looked to for praise were in a nest on the floor and standing outside. “I talked to the feds, they know she was a rogue Alpha and the two of you are mated. She would have been in deep shit for trying to kill them. They'll want to come clear the bombs but with me back they won't fuck with Cols.” The man patted his shoulder before looking over at the others, Colson had let out another broken noise at his words.

Dom watched like it was a car accident he couldn't stop and he just hoped eventually it would turn out alright. He followed close and when they turned around the counter Kells looked like the lost boy he was. With Punk on his chest and Blain next to him looking between everyone so confused, the omega started to cry again though he'd barely stopped. He'd never felt so overwhelmingly happy and broken at the same time.

“What the fuck Travis?”

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 🖤

Oh no a cliffhanger! Don't worry, I have the next one ready. This was just getting so long already. Just one more chapter before part two I think! I hope you enjoy this one because I adore writing them as a little family. They're so cute! Where has Travis been? What will Col do now? Does the public know? We'll find out soon. Hope you're enjoying it! 💣🩸🖤

[slytherinspired]

Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception. 

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools. 

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face. 

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already. 

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest. 

‘Really?’ he asks. 

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’ 

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit. 

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way. 

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say. 

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests. 

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air. 

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty. 

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand. 

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.  

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space.  He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family. 

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away. 

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway. 

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped. 

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence. 

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds. 

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘ 

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts. 

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits. 

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him. 

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden. 

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air. 

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how. 

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away. 

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor. 

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now. 

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods. 

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth. 

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.  

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down. 

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods. 

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases. 

Praised be Godric. 

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.  

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously. 

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘ 

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in. 

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers. 

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’ 

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs. 

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly. 

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats. 

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs. 

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms. 

She turns her head and looks at him. 

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs. 

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.  

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers. 

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear. 

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud. 

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes. 

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything. 

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.  

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means. 

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back. 

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him. 

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now. 

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake. 

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers. 

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there. 

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them. 

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t? 

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying. 

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up. 

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better. 

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating. 

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks. 

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her. 

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away. 

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N. 

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room. 

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl... 

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’ 

[tyb1]

If It’s The Right Thing To Do (4)

Words:2886

Character: Seth Clearwater

Note: let’s imagine your Sam’s little sister 

Dialogue prompt:“So let me get this straight when I need you you’re nowhere to be found but when I do something dumb you magically appear.”

Series List

tag list:  @alecvolturiswifeforever​ @scoverdale1​ @anndaydreamer​ @fae-lore​ @queen-of-embracing-uncertainty @nickangel13​ @bi-bi-spencer​@a-vild-bluemyrtle​ @little-miss-naill @crystalxavlove @ilovesethclearwater

Seth Clearwater Masterlist

A/N: message me or comment if you’d like to be on the tag list. sorry it took so long I love you guys:)

“I’m sorry Seth but you and I both know that what you’re saying is bullshit.” I snatched my hand away from his chest, the feeling of his racing heart was no longer there. I knew he wasn’t lying about what he said but for his and my sanity, we both needed this to end here. This entire relationship was causing too many problems...well before he decided to join the Cullens. 

“What (Y/N)....what are you talking about?.” He stood there with tears in his eyes, I’m surprised he didn’t let them fall like I was letting mine fall. That was one thing I hated about him. He held in all of his emotions and then when it came to the breaking point he would explode. Trust me when I say it’s not a good sight to see.

I had to put off a bold face for him. I couldn’t let him know that I was actually dying inside. I was letting a few tears slide down my face but that didn’t compare to the aching feeling that I was feeling inside of me. It was the same feeling I felt when he first left me.

“Fine since you want me to say it so badly”- I roughly pointed my finger in his face.- “ Leave me alone. We’re breaking up so don’t call me, or text me until you get your priorities straight. I’ll be home when you get your shit together.” 

Seth couldn’t look me in the eyes, he started to kick the dirt with his feet. The sand below him started to change different colors from the tears that were falling upon it. He started to mumble a few words but the only thing I could hear was. “You don’t have your priorities straight either (Y/N).”

“It’s because I’m dealing with your shit! I’m around here following you like a lost puppy when you only play mind games with me! I’m so done with you and your bipolar ass!” I spat bitterly, I turned my back to him then marched towards Sam. I turned around to look at him once more, I instantly regretted it. He stood there with his hands in pockets with his head still hanging low. His head shot up instantly making eye contact with me, I quickly snatched my gaze away from him. This was going to be a new start for both of us so I didn’t need to be drawn back in with his puppy dog eyes.

Seth POV 2 weeks later

 I was too much of a coward to say goodbye. I was truly heartbroken. I wish I could run to her and tell her that I love her and tell her that I cherish everything about her but I know she wouldn’t believe me. I was all out of options. The only thing that felt right to do was to cry and that’s what I did. I cried so hard that day that Jake had to carry me home on his back. It’s been two weeks since I have last spoken to (Y/N), two of the longest fucking weeks of my life. I thought losing my dad was painful but this...this has won the race. I couldn’t bear the heartbreak so I started to stay out longer. I asked to take over Leah and Jake’s patrol hours. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. I can only remember our last encounter, it’s like a nonstop movie in my head it was causing me to go insane.

I hate it here.

I have been spending most of my days down at the border. I was monitoring the days where Colin and Brady patrolled, they were my best option to trick into letting me cross the border. It was my only way to apologize to (Y/N). So here I was trying to wave down Collin and Brady so I could continue with my ridiculous plan.

“Hey! Colin, Brady pshhh, come here!” I yelled out in the distance to the two wolves. I was standing at the border waiting for them to shift as well. I wasn’t in my wolf form. The last thing I wanted to do was be a threat to them. 

Brady was the first to walk from behind the tree while Colin stood behind the tree too nervous to face me. I could read their body language from a mile away, they were very uncomfortable with being around me. 

Brady snarled at me, I observed as all of the muscles in his body grew tense as he spoke. “I heard you got into it with Paul. He should have ripped your fucking head off.”

“Wow I wasn’t expecting that from you Brady, but thanks I guess.” I wasn’t trying to be an ass but it just rolled off my tongue. Straight away I regretted it, it only pissed him off even more. 

Brady pulled Colin by the collar of his shirt pushing him towards me. The kid could barely keep his posture straight or his eyes focused on me. He had no confidence in his steps and started to trip over the branches on the ground.

Brady pointed between the both of us with his thumb. He had an irritated facial expression plastered on his face. “Tell him what you told me when he left.” he spat bitterly, a small smirk was rising on his face but soon faded as Colin spoke.

“Do I have to?” Colin mumbled, he waved shyly at me. I took this opportunity to wave back to him. I gave him a small smile as well. Colin, Brady, and I were always close but Brady was always the fiery type while Colin was timid.

“Yes, you have to say it!” Brady exclaimed.

Colin rolled his eyes, “Fine, I said that you were an ass for leaving us behind. It wouldn’t be the first time that you left us.” Brady glared at him to continue, “I also said that you have a reputation for turning your back on us.”

I noticed Brady smiling at Colin; he must have felt accomplished. I must admit, I did feel bad, I left them behind but it was some things that they have not come to reality with.  “Listen I need a huge favor. I need you to let me cross the border so I can see (Y/N).”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Wow so you just completely ignored what we have to say? Why would we let you cross the border and jeopardize us? Yeah, that was a stupid request.”

“You’ll do it because I am your superior. In Jakes’s pack I’m the beta...but don’t ask Leah or else she’ll lie. She thinks she’s the beta because she’s older but in reality, Jake named me the beta.” 

Colin had a questionably look on his face, by now he has grown more comfortable with me and now is standing face to face just like Brady. “Why would you want to see someone who doesn’t want to see you?” 

I was taken aback, “Why do you mean? She wants to see me, there is no way that she would not want to see me.”

“Umm I highly doubt it, she’s been living well since the accident. We went skating last week with us and the others. Not once has she mentioned your name.” Brady slapped Colin across the back of his head. I watched as the two bickered back and forth. Brady pushed Colin away from him. He snapped his fingers to gain my attention from my feet. I hadn’t realized that I was getting sidetracked but I was trying to figure out why (Y/N)  wasn’t heartbroken.

“She made it clear that she didn’t want to be around you anymore Seth. Dude if I were you I’d really leave her the fuck alone. She really wants nothing to do with you. If you try to see her she’ll probably freak out on you. You’re pretty much dead to her.” Brady then smirked, “There’s also another guy that has been keeping her busy lately.”

Ouch. Well, that hurt...it actually hurt a lot. I cleared my throat so I could stop the tears from arising. We’re not about to cry in front of them!

Colin now slapped Brady beside the head. “You could have said it nicer, idiot.”

“What! Her words, not mine!” 

“Just forget about it.” I spat bitterly, If you wanted to forget about me and everything we had then so be it. I could forget you just as fast as you did me. I could care less about those stupid ass memories we made together. Just like you said I really didn’t love you it was just the stupid feeling of you being my damn imprint. 

I continued to walk and degrade our relationship. Jake tried to stop and talk to me but I just shoved him out of the way. He started to piss me off as well. He had his nose shoved so far up the Cullens ass he couldn’t tell you what roses smell like. Then here comes my second problem, Leah.  I didn’t dare shove her. I didn’t want to pick a fight with her right now. I could explode on her and say some things I didn’t mean. 

“Where the hell have you been!? Were you down at the border again?”

“Does it really matter?” I rolled my eyes at the screaming woman. If she wanted to be my mom then she should have birthed me out. She tugged me backward pulling her face up to hers. I stared into her lonely eyes as she did the same with me.

“You’re my little brother so you are my business. Stop doing dumb shit, Seth.”

 I ripped my face from her hands. “So let me get this straight when I need you you’re nowhere to be found but when I do something dumb you magically appear.” I already knew where the conversation was heading. I was not in the mood to hear her shit right now because I was a walking bomb ready to explode.

“Did you go see (Y/N)?”

“No! I didn’t see her. Why do you make everything about her? I could care less about her.” I couldn’t control myself. I threw my fist into a nearby tree. It cracked and fell to the ground. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.  As much as I wanted the tears to stop falling I couldn’t. I have never felt so empty in my entire life. That same feeling of heartbreak resurfaced throughout my body. My chest began to tighten, a sharp pain shot throughout my body as I tried to walk forward.

”Make it stop hurting Leah.” I began to sob uncontrollably. “It hurts so bad, why did she have to go? Why is everyone leaving me? What did I do to deserve this….I just try so hard to make everyone happy but when will it be my turn to be happy?  Mom is fucking dating Charlie now. We barely see her anymore only on fucking holidays!  Why did dad have to fucking go!? And you only check on me when it’s convenient for you Leah! Why is everyone leaving me, Leah!?”

“Seth I-”

I cut her off, “Don’t say it.” I knew I was going to apologize about the accident that happened with dad. I never blamed her for the accident. She didn’t mean any harm by it. I could never bring myself to blame her.

 I started to wipe my tears with the sleeves of my flannel shirt. It brought back the memories of the time that (Y/N) would take my flannel and wear it with her converse and shorts. I started to cry all over again at the thought. I started to choke on my words, everything that was coming out of my mouth was undetectable. “(Y/N) was always there for me and now I chose the bloodsuckers over her. She doesn’t understand that it was the right thing to do. They were going to kill a baby. Leah, I don’t have anyone else. I’m so fucking lonely!” 

“I know how it feels Seth. It hurts like hell but you’ll get over it. I’m sorry that you felt like I wasn’t there for you. I must admit that I was being completely selfish. I love you Seth and don’t you forget that.” I started to relax under her embrace. I haven’t seen this side of her since she and Sam were together. It was good to have her back though. “I love you too.”

I followed her gaze, she was staring up at the stars. “I want you to cry it all out, Seth. All of that heartbreak and sadness you have deep within you I want you to let it the fuck out. If you hold it in it’ll turn into anger then that anger will turn into bitterness. I’ll come back and check on you in the morning.”

I don’t want to be alone…

Leah’s footsteps started to become faint, I was left alone in my thoughts once again. I honestly didn’t want her to go. All I wanted for her to do was to hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I was stuck on ground zero like I was when my dad died, no one was there for me except (Y/N). She would probably hold me in her hands while whispering the things I wanted to hear. I wish you were here right now, maybe I wouldn’t be so angry at the world. 

“Fuck it!” I started to yell out in the night air. I threw punches in the nearby tree to try and let my anger out. I hit each syllable of the words in the tree. “Fuck you, Sam! And Fuck you too Paul!! I’m not scared of you!” “I don’t care what anyone does and says to me. I’m going to see her and no one is going to stop me.” I didn’t stop until the tree flew back by the force of my hits.

I shifted into my wolf and ran towards her scent. Brady and Colin were still on patrol however they were both on the other side of the forest. It would take them a while to catch up to me at the speed I was running at. A sinister laugh escaped from my lips. This power or maybe it was the adrenaline….no, this was most definitely power. It made me feel invincible, By no means this was me finally sticking up for myself, or how (Y/N) would say, this was me finally growing some balls.

Her scent was in the direction of the beach, oh how could I miss that scent. I followed the dominating scent but there was something a bit off with her scent. It was a mixture of something foreign. I gazed out to the beach scanning every person that was out there. It seemed like there was a party, there were so many teenagers out around the bonfire. I growled out as I watched you sit on a log with another guy’s hoodie on. His cheap polo cologne filled my nostrils. You were sitting there laughing at something that he said which probably wasn’t that funny. 

“Tch, I want to know what’s so funny.” Anger arose in my body causing my teeth and claws to sharpen. My breathing became irregular and there was a tight feeling in my chest. I tried to ignore it but the harder I breathe the more painful it becomes. I took a step forward and instantly collapsed on the ground. My wolf form quickly disappeared and there I was laying on the ground in the fetal position. I tried to crawl but my body felt numb. The only feeling I had was the tears falling from my eyes down my cheeks and onto the ground. I even tried to scream out your name but nothing came out but a gasping sound.

Was I dying?

I started to cry even harder, the thought of dying always freaked me out but the thought of leaving you with guilt made me feel even worse. The sobs were coming out more frequently than I anticipated. I didn’t have time to catch my breath or even think straight. Everything felt like it was closing on me. The air around me started to thin out making me feel dizzy. The pain in my chest starts to become more unbearable. 

“(Y/N) wait...I..I...can’t breathe!” I choked out the words barely having the strength to do it. My head started to pound from the lack of oxygen I was getting. My hearing was becoming undetectable. I felt my body go stiff and my eyes fluttered shut as well, everything became dark and warm. 

It took every bone and ounce of energy to draw a tiny heart near me. If (Y/N) found me like this then she would see the heart. She’ll know that I died loving her...right? Was I even dying or am I just being dramatic? I don’t know, I just want to embrace the warmness that surrounding me right now. 

[tenthgrove]

Hello, I just saw that you opened your request. I'm the one who ended up writing a whole prompt! Imagine this for each member from La Squadra: they had an one-night stand with a random woman, she accidentally got pregnant and decided to have the baby without telling them. After a while, the woman got ill and passed away, but not without before sending her child with their father (let's imagine she has the direction of their hideout even if it's ooc, or she knew where they hang out). So, one day someone knocks the door and introduces themselves as the kid of one of the members/if it's too young, someone left them on the door with a explainatory note... How do you think each member would react by discovering that they have a child and they're supposed to take care of them from now? You can make each kid with different ages if you want, it would be funny to see Prosciutto or Ghiaccio dealing with a rebellious teenage son or Risotto trying to take care of a toddler, but I guess not all of them would want to keep their children. Sorry if it's a lot, haha.

La Squadra did a Diavolo

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Familial, SFW

A/N: your idea about mixing up the ages got me thinking, and I ended up using randomisers for the children’s ages (though I did consciously change some of them) and genders. It added a fun bit of chance to this prompt.

Formaggio, with an 8 year old daughter

The whole thing feels surreal to him. There's a little girl on his doorstep calling herself his daughter and by all evidence, it's true. He doesn't really know how to feel about it at first. On one hand it's kind of cool he had a kid all this time and you're clearly a lovely girl, but on the other hand, what the fuck? Still, not being the practical sort, his sense of sentiment far outweighs any question of how he's actually going to look after a child, so without much deliberation, Formaggio agrees to let you stay.

Formaggio isn't too experienced with kids but he doesn't exactly dislike them either, so he figures he knows what to do. At your age you can at least do the basics of looking after yourself, so he isn't too worried. The only problem is that if you ask him to cook for you or help clean your room, his eyes go very wide. He never quite picked up those skills himself, he's afraid, so you're going to have to ask someone else for that one.

The good news is that Formaggio is a very easy-going, fun sort of dad, who is a natural at playing with you and lets you do what you want when he can't be around. He quickly gets used to showing affection to you, letting you cuddle up to him on the sofa in front of the squad and even carrying you around once in a while. He gives amazing piggy back rides.

The bad news (or more good news, depending on how you are) is that you have to leave school. Risotto says that at your age you can't be trusted not to tell anyone your new family is a bunch of assassins, and taking you to and from school each day would be too much of a hassle. Nonetheless, you're welcome to continue your education from home, though Formaggio will hardly push you if you don't keep up with it. Melone is much better on that front.

Despite the risk, Formaggio can't bring himself to force you to lose all your friends, so he lets you keep meeting with them. Furthermore, he knows a few guys in other squads who have kids about your age, so he's happy to introduce you to them if you want a friend you can be more honest about your home life with. Formaggio might not have a clue what he's doing, but he's doing pretty good.

Illuso, with a 3 year old daughter

He's been fearing this day would come for years. A small child knocking on the door of the hideout, holding a note in hand addressed to him, just as a shady looking car drives away. Yeah, Illuso remembers your mother pretty well and he remembers the distinct lack of precautions they took during their encounter. Now, the consequences of his actions are here at his house, and Risotto is currently standing in the doorway of the office looking ready to give him the biggest dressing-down of his life.

After his tongue-lashing, Illuso frantically agrees to take responsibility for what he's done and see to it that you're well cared for, and begins the task of looking for relatives who might take you. Unfortunately, none of your mother's family can be traced, and Illuso can't exactly call up his own right now. Leaving you on the door of an orphanage isn't an option because you're old enough to say where you've come from, so it looks like for the time being, Illuso is stuck with you.

Initially, Illuso is not thrilled. He pawns you off on Melone, Sorbet and Gelato whenever possible and tries to live his life as before. But increasingly, he can't help finding himself visiting your room whenever he's stressed or has had a bad mission. There's something so pure about gently stroking your hair as you sleep. He can't help but feel... attachment, as he rubs his thumb against your tiny palm.

From then on, Illuso starts to make a point of spending more time with you. You're at the age where you just want to touch and explore everything you're given, so letting you make a mess with his makeup and beauty creams is an easy way for him to observe and learn about you. He even starts doing the more practical things like washing and feeding you every so often.

Eventually, Illuso becomes an actual father to you. He loves you as a father should and puts his time into making you happy. Illuso is glad he didn't give you away, as you've opened his eyes to so many things. For the first time in many years, he feels human. He feels redeemable.

Prosciutto, with a 13 year old son

As you tell him your story Prosciutto racks his brains. He didn't have many one-night-stands in his youth but the ones he did have were so far back he barely remembers them, so your mother's name doesn't immediately ring any bells. If it weren't for the striking resemblance between you, Prosciutto probably would have thrown you out for a liar there and then. But as you are, it's clear you're being honest. He lets you in.

After a short interrogation by Risotto to make certain you aren't acting on behalf of some third party looking to infiltrate the squad, it's agreed you can stay, so long as you keep quiet about it to your friends. At your age you can largely look after yourself and all you really needed was a roof over your head, so there's no problem with you moving into the spare room as long as you stay out of the others' way.

Education isn't much of an issue either, since you're likely well settled in your current school and can get yourself there and back. Just whatever you do, don't go telling anyone you live with a bunch of gangsters now. Prosciutto means it, you could seriously put yourself in danger if you do that.

Much to your father's ire, you end up befriending several members of the squad, especially the younger ones like Melone, Ghiaccio and Pesci who have some generational overlap with how you were raised. Prosciutto would rather you didn't do this but at the end of the day, he can't really stop you. God forbid you call him an old boomer again.

Your relationship is overall positive- Prosciutto makes a point of taking you on outings when he has the time, and giving you parental advice when you need it. However that doesn't stop you from making fun of his stuffy, old habits, and playing the moral high ground in regards to his work.

On that note, the problem comes when you develop an interest in the squad's work. It's only inevitable, given how pervasive the topic is in conversations around the house, and the fact you're more than old enough to know what a gang is, but the day you first ask him about it is no less welcome. What's scary is that you're about the same age as Passione's youngest recruits and, well, if you ended up joining them because of him, Prosciutto might never forgive himself.

Pesci, with a 6 month old son

He knew it had been a mistake. Not long after his 18th birthday he'd given in to the squad's pestering about his virginity and finally gotten rid of it just to shut them up. Now he's ridden with guilt. Not only did the poor woman get pregnant because of him but now she's died. He can't help but wonder, the letter attached to the basket you came in was very vague after all, was your mother's death at all related to your birth? If so, Pesci doesn't know how he'll forgive himself.

Pesci immediately panics and stumbles into his Fra's bedroom crying louder than you are. Prosciutto remains calm, advising him to first make sure this actually is his baby through Melone, in case this is somebody trying to trick him, and to then think through his options rationally. As far as Prosciutto sees it, he has two. He can either see to it that you're taken in by a caring, reliable individual, or he can keep you for himself. Surprisingly, Prosciutto's actually okay with the second one, since in his eyes duty to one's family is absolute.

Pesci stammers a bit and asks if he can wait a few days to make his mind up, which Prosciutto permits. But it isn't long at all until Pesci is far too attached to you to ever let you go, and it becomes clear you'll be staying for the long-run. Risotto is hardly happy about this but agrees with Prosciutto's sentiment of family, so he doesn't try to insist you be sent away.

Pesci is an incredibly loving father. He'll dash from the other side of the house at a moment's notice if he hears you crying. That said, being so young himself it's inevitable he requires some help with raising you. Sorbet and Gelato chip in quite regularly, as does Melone when Pesci is desperate enough to fall on using him. Prosciutto helps out too, being your uncle, and occasionally you've even had Risotto answer your cries.

La Squadra can only hope their situation improves somehow in the coming years, since Pesci has no idea how he's going to deal with an older child in a house full of assassins. At very least, being so young it's a long time before he has to worry about things like school. For now, what's important is that you are loved very dearly. Pesci has discovered a new protective streak in himself, something he discovers every time he looks in your eyes.

Melone, with a 4 year old son

When you arrived you were frightened and confused. You struggled to babble out the story you were told to tell as the strange men crowded around you in the front room of the house. Then, a bizarre looking man with purple hair pushed to the front of the crowd, insisting he knew what to do in a situation like this. He carried you somewhere quiet, and gently asked you to repeat your story again. You told him you were looking for your father, Melone.

Melone is elated. He's always wanted a child, but getting into a relationship stable enough to produce one has never been an option with the life he lives. Now the happy accident he never new he had has come home to him! Carrying you back to the living room, Melone introduces you as his son and announces to the team that he will be keeping you.

This is met with some protest. Not only are you of the age where you'll need constant supervision, but quite frankly, nobody trusts Melone to take care of a kid. Melone refutes their accusations harshly, making it absolutely clear he will not be giving you up without a fight. Finally, Risotto surrenders, on the terms that if he catches any signs of abuse or neglect, he will see to it personally that you are re-homed elsewhere.

Melone's parenting style is relatively laid-back. He believes parents should be a 'safe base' from which children should explore the world, coming back when they need advice but ultimately following their own whims within reason. He encourages you to play as you wish and does not stop you from bonding with the rest of the squad. Finding supervision for you while he's on missions proves to be a non-issue, since his stand's massive range means he can often do most of a mission's work at home.

When the time comes to educate you, Melone decides against the risks of enrolling you in school. He is an amazing teacher and can teach you everything you'd need in half the hours of a typical curriculum. Beyond the essentials of literacy and simple maths, Melone largely encourages you to follow you own interests rather than stick to some boring, arbitrary list of useless things a normal curriculum for some reason expects you to learn.

That said, he knows the importance of making friends, so he frequently takes you out to meet with neighbourhood children. All-in-all, the squad is surprised at his sensible parenting choices, and the happy child you are turning out to be.

Ghiaccio, with a 2 year old son

It's almost comedic the lengths Ghiaccio goes to to avoid the problem. As the others crowd around you in Melone's lap, Ghiaccio cowers in the corner insisting that you absolutely cannot be his. It's very obvious you are, of course. You look almost exactly like him, and have a cry to match. You've even inherited the same, mild visual impairments that earned him his glasses. There's no getting away from the truth.

After accepting the truth, Ghiaccio takes you away to his room to 'clear his head' before deciding where to send you in the morning, but when morning comes, that deliberation time quickly turns into a few more days, then a month, then never. It's clear Ghiaccio's become attached to you, and he cannot bring himself to give you away.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the foggiest clue in hell how to look after a toddler. He has a hard enough time understanding what it is adults want from him, let alone small children. There are times he even considers giving you away again, but they never last long enough for him to go through with it. Bit by bit, he slowly learns how to be a father.

Melone is his primary co-parent. As cautious as Ghiaccio is about letting him around his baby, it soon becomes clear Melone can understand your needs far better than he can. The pair have many sessions together teaching Ghiaccio how to do things like wash you or cook your food. It's honestly a massive help, and probably the main reason Ghiaccio doesn't completely melt down within a month of having you.

These issues aside, Ghiaccio is a person who is very genuine in his affections. He would break the shins of anyone who even looked at you threateningly, and every fibre of his being wants you to be happy. He even learns to control his temper, as he knows from experience just how damaging an angry parent can be for a child. He's going to give you a better childhood than what his parents gave him, and that's a promise.

Risotto, with a 6 year old daughter

Well, perhaps this ought to have been expected. In his early 20s Risotto was really far less careful than he ought to be in regards to his encounters, so he probably had this coming. You are at a difficult age, old enough to understand your father is a criminal but young enough to still need his care. If he takes you in, there will be many challenges. And yet he cannot bring himself to turn you away. Looking at you he feels... obligation.

In the early days he tries his best to shelter you. He keeps you in his room and tells the others not to talk to you. But that's no way for you to live, and he knows it. Eventually, he swallows his fears and lets you explore your new home, even taking you out to the park a few minutes each day so you can run around. He talks to Melone about continuing your education, and asks Sorbet and Gelato if they'd let the spare room next to them be turned into a bedroom for you. He's going to make sure he raises you right.

Risotto may be quiet and introverted, but do not mistake that for emotionally distant. He does not underestimate his vital role in your emotional well-being, and is quick to pick up on when you are feeling sad or lonely. He makes sure to pick you up in his arms and ask what's wrong when that happens.

Though he didn't know her well, he mourns your mother with you, and is very watchful for the signs of attachment issues that may result from losing a parent at such a tender age. Being all you have left, Risotto gains a new instinct of self-preservation. For the first time in years, his life has meaning.

In terms of bonding, he prefers calm activities that allow him to passively observe your interests, such as watching movies or reading you books. When he's working in his office and doesn't need his camera on, he's happy for you to sit in his lap as long as you're quiet. He would ask if you don't read what's on his screen, though, at least not while you're so young. He'll give you a better explanation of what he's doing some day, but not just yet.

Sorbet and Gelato, with a 12 year old daughter

First of all, let's make clear that regardless of which one is biologically your father, they both feel equal responsibility for you. No doubt they were both present for your conception anyway, so as far as they're concerned, if one of them has a secret kid from a hookup, they both have a secret kid from a hookup.

Having always wanted children, they are happy when you appear on the doorstep and introduce yourself as their daughter. Though they don't say it out loud to avoid upsetting you, they kind of wish your mum had kicked it sooner so they could have raised you from a younger age, but they're more than happy to make do with what they've got. There's no hesitation in welcoming you to live with them permanently, and anyone who has a problem with this isn't brave enough to say it.

Right from the get-go they are very permitting parents, awarding you a generous helping of their cash each week and having a rule list that pretty much starts and ends with "don't talk to the police." Despite your age they don't expect you to be independent, and are happy to cook for you and help you out with other things when you ask. It seems parenthood was made for them.

Despite all this, there is one problem in your relationship that is making things difficult. That of your fathers' work. You're 12 years old and you aren't stupid. You know they kill for a living and you know they enjoy it. When you stumble into the bathroom at 1am to find them covered in blood and laughing together, there's no making excuses. No matter how good they are with you, this is going to make you afraid of them.

Sorbet and Gelato are incredibly stringent in solving these early issues. After all these years they've finally got the family they wanted, and they aren't going to let it slip away from their own cruelty. They are honest with you about their occupation, since they want you to know you can trust them, and make absolutely clear it won't affect their care for you. You are welcome to ask questions and receive honest answers, but other than that Sorbet and Gelato will make a point of not accidentally causing you to witness something you shouldn't.

With them, you are welcome to continue your old life in terms of school and friends. They want to spend time with you, but they don't want to overtake your existence completely. When you are up for it, they are keen to take you on outings that interest you so you can spend time together as a family. They hope you know how happy you make them.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Chapter 7

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1   Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The grey man was dead.

The grey man looked like he had been dead for some time.

What little skin he had remaining hung loosely from the bone. The eye sockets were empty, the patches of remaining hair were stringy and dirty. The skull had caved in around the crossbow bolt, revealing an awful wriggling mass of maggots on the inside. The stench of rotting flesh, which Roman had only been able to smell up close before, now filed the room, making him gag.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for whatever glamour had made it so hard to see the details of the grey man’s face to return. He griped Mittens’ soft fur tightly with his good hand, earning him a disgruntled meow.

“What the fuck.” A voice muttered.

Unseen by Roman, a figure emerged from the doorway. One with skin bleached white under the lamp light and eyes that seemed to glow an unnatural shade of violet. Most of him was hidden under a dark cloak, save for the fearsome looking crossbow he held at his hip.

Had there been anyone left to see, Virgil would no doubt have made an intimidating sight. At least until he reached out one foot to poke at the grey man's body and recoiled with an undignified ‘eeeeeew!’ when the flesh gave way easily under the pressure.

Virgil had served more years then he cared to remember in the Finaley’ed army. He had seen many dead bodies. That did not make it any better to hear one squelch.

“Okay.” He called, “Okay, the coast is clear and I shot a dead guy.”

Roman heard a second pair of footsteps approaching before a new voice asked: “Did you retrieve the bolt?”

“The bolt that is covered in maggots? No. No I did not.”

“That’s a waste of resources.”

“That is not my main problem with the corpse in the basement Loga- no don’t touch it!”

“This looks like several months of decay- but there’s no surrounding detritus – do you think they moved it here? For what purpose?”

“I don’t care! Maybe it’s just…some, some unlucky bath house guy that got left down here. Who knows! Just help me find the damm cat.”

“Ah yes,” Roman could hear the disdain in Logan’s voice, “The magic cat.”

On the ground, obscured from their view by the network of pipes, Roman kept his eyes firmly shut. So long as his eyes were shut, he was listening to Logan and Virgil’s bickering and was seconds away from rescue.

But what if he opened his eyes and they weren’t there?

Julius had been found of testing his curses’ limits in this area. He would order Romulus to ‘see’ imaginary monsters in the shadows and then have him describe them. Or to recount conversations that never happened. Or to forget ones that had. None of this research had ever been particularly successful - he couldn’t be ordered to alter reality, even in the privacy of his own head – but Julius had never quite given up on it.

What if he had found a way to make it work?

Roman could hear his own heartbeat, the fast paced thump melding with the rush of water in the pipes that surrounded him, making his head throb and his whole body tremble.

What if it wasn’t Virgil and Logan there at all? What if it was Niki and Marcus back again, or Lucius himself, or no one at all?

What if it wasn’t even Julius doing it, just his own pain-addled mind playing tricks on him?

Romulus bit back a whimper, squeezing his arms tight around his middle.

This was too much for Mittens, who let out a yowl of protest and wriggled out of Roman’s grip.

“Oh!” He gasped, eyes flying open “Sorry!”

Mittens ignored his apology, scampering away through the open door and disappearing into the gloom of the corridor. There was a shout, a sudden rush of footsteps and a loud clang followed by a short curse as someone tripped on one of the pipes running along the floor.

And then two men were standing over him. Twin expression of relief morphing quickly into concern.

Virgil swallowed hard, the healers eyes flicking rapidly over each visible injury before meeting Roman’s own.

“Hey there Princy.” Virgil said softly.

***

The journey back through the corridors was a lot slower than their journey in. At least Logan had managed to retrieve one of the lanterns from the maintenance room so he was no longer relying on clinging to the back of Virgil’s cape to navigate.

When they had initially followed the….cat….to the bathhouse they’d thought their luck was beginning to change. It was coronation day, all businesses were closed; it should have been an easy matter to sneak in. When Virgil had scaled the opposing buildings for some roof top reconnaissance however he had come back grim faced – the upper floors were full of soldiers.

The design on their uniform matched the symbol Lucy had drawn the night before, and that Logan had identified in the library that morning. It belonged to the house of Orenlla in Notaleveale. It was not three ‘Vs’ as Lucy had thought, but a stylised version of the three largest peaks on the Sarindu mountain range, which marked the border between Notaleveale and the middle kingdoms. The man she had seen had apparently been wearing his clasp upside down.

Despite his success, Logan had left the library disappointed. Ornella was a noble house in Notaleveale but not one significant enough to warrant a permanent residence in the middle kingdom city of Steveange. It was surely possible to find out where the contingent were staying – the townsfolk seemingly obsessed with the movement of the visiting nobility- but the librarians he spoke to all gave different suggestions, if any at all. Checking every possible address was going to take days.

As desperate as Logan had been feeling, at least he didn’t return to the meeting point with a cat.

Patton had gone to see the crone – or ‘Mama Tay’, as she apparently insisted Patton call her - who had no new information as to where Roman had gone or why he had left, but who had offered to help find him anyway.

Using her cat.

(“I don’t like it.” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil.” Logan said, relived to find at least one of his companions hadn’t lost their minds.

“It’s blood magic”

“It’s a CAT!”)

Apparently, when Mittens had scratched Roman at the crone’s – Mama Tay’s – house, it had collected enough blood for a simple locator spell. And Patton, bless him, had agreed to swap a bushel of fresh food from the market for an hours use of the magical bard seeking cat.

Logan had despaired.

Logan wasn’t quite ready to eat his words (dogs could be trained to track blood scents couldn’t they? Why not a cat? There was a reasonable explanation somewhere, surely) but even he had to admit, Mittens had been a lot more successful than any of them.

After Virgil had returned from the rooftop shaking his head, Mittens had meowed piteously until they followed him to a side street, where thin slits set at ground level vented hot air from the bathhouse basement. The cat had slipped in easily, and after a few minutes debate, Logan and Virgil had wiggled their way in after.

They’d used a rope to reach the ground, finding themselves at the base of a set of stairs. There was a soft glow at the top, presumably the main floor of the house, enough to illuminate Mittens’ tail as he trotted off deeper into the basement.

It was only Virgil’s night vision that prevented them from breaking their necks on the next set of stairs, but eventually they had made their way to the a well-lit and uncomfortably warm maintenance room.

And to Roman.

An injured Roman. A glassy-eyed Roman who could barely stand and started shivering as soon as they left the heat of the room.

“He’s going into shock.” Virgil muttered, fixing his cape around Roman’s shoulders. He pulled it tight, wrapping the ends securely, but making Roman whimper in pain. Not knowing what to do, Logan just held the lantern higher. It illuminated the cut on Roman’s sallow face, and the bruises that surrounded it. Bruises which continued over his shoulders and no doubt down his back. Logan had seen the stick, lying next to the corpse, it’s end strained with blood from where the skin had split.

Stupidly, he wished he’d taken the time to break it into a hundred little pieces.

When they reached the first set of stairs, they paused to let Roman catch his breath. His breathing was shallow and he slumped heavily against Logan’s side.

Logan had once watched Roman hop on one foot for almost a mile rather than swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Logan exchanged a glance with Virgil, not bothering to keep the panic from his face.

Virgil let out a long exhale an reached over to squeeze Logan’s shoulder reassuringly, shifting himself to take some of the bard’s weight.

“He’s not going to be able to climb out the way we came in.” Virgil murmured.

“Obviously.” Logan nodded.

That was okay. They had a plan B.

As if on cue, a distant roar rang out above them, followed by quite a lot of screaming.

“Issat Patton?” Roman asked, staring into the darkness with unfocused eyes.

“Mmhmm”, Virgil leaned over and pushed some of Roman’s damp hair away from his face. “He was meant to come get us if we weren’t out in twenty minutes. I think he’s early.”

“There’s at les’ a dozen of ‘em.” Roman slurred “Niki said.”

“Patton can handle it.” Virgil said firmly, though his eyes flickered to the ceiling, betraying his nervousness. “Can you walk?”

Roman nodded, though he needed both their help to actually manage it. It was painfully slow going, with Roman unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince of pain with each step.

The first flight of stairs was relatively short, but by the time they had reached the top Roman’s shaking was so bad it was making Logan’s own teeth rattle. Still, they pressed on, almost dragging the bard between them to the base of the much larger set of stairs that would take them to street level.

Here the noises from the floor above were much louder – the clash of steel on steel reverberating down the stairs.

Logan stared at the next obstacle, uncertain. There were what amounted to five flights, with a small flat platform at each turning point. There was a banister running each side of the stairs, but it was missing in several places. What was there didn’t look like it would hold much weight.

Above them, there was an enormous crash followed by a bellow of almost inhuman rage.

“Frog mode?” Roman asked drowsily.

“Frog mode.” Virgil said grimly.

The berserkers of Krutova painted their faces with the green and blue mud from the rivers and swamps that saturated their forest home. Legend said they could lie in wait for hours, hidden under the water, using hollow reeds to breath before leaping out on unsuspecting enemies with a monstrous frenzied rage, dragging their opponents to a watery grave – assuming they didn’t, quite literally, rip them apart first.

Logan had never seen Patton paint his face. And the big man did not like to talk about his time at war. But Logan had seen him fight off more than a dozen men in a bar brawl without breaking a sweat. He’d once seen him wrestle a wild boar just for fun.

Still. The men upstairs were trained guardsmen, not drunks. And they were armed. And it had only been a small boar.

Virgil was clearly having similar thoughts, his fingers twitching against his side, his eyes constantly flickering up and then back towards Logan and Roman. .

“Go.” Logan said, “We’ll follow you.”

Virgil hesitated, but Roman nodded, straightening up as much as he could “We’ll be righ’ behin’ you. Go help dad.”

Virgil dithered a moment more and then let out all his breath in a rush, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Okay just. Go slow. We’ll come get you when the coast is clear.” he waited until they both nodded before turning and all but leaping up the stairs. Roman held his pose until he was out of sight and then collapsed once more against Logan’s side.

The scholar adjusted his grp on the lantern, and hooked his other arm over Roman’s back. With a grunt of effort, the bard managed to sling his left arm over Logan’s shoulder, leaving his uninjured hand free to grip the rickety banister. Logan squeezed, holding him tightly. Roman groaned as he pressed against the bruises and welts that coated his back but Logan held firm.

“One step at a time.” the younger man said softly. “Okay?”

Panting, Roman nodded, giving Logan a sickly lopsided grin.

The staircase spiralled five times before reaching the top floor. They made it round twice before trouble found them.

“You.” The man growled.

The man standing between them and freedom was generically handsome, with large eyes and a strong jaw. He had a passing resemblance to Roman; with the same dark reddish brown hair and tanned skin. He wore a doublet of pink and navy, with the three peaked mountains embroidered in gold thread.

“Luc’-“ Roman gasped out, “don’t-“

“Shut up!” the Marquis de Orenlla snapped. He held a wicked looking dagger in one hand, eyes ablaze. “Is there no end to your duplicity? You foul traitor, I should have you hanged!“

Also like Roman, he seemed to favour being loud over being coherent.

With a grunt, Roman removed his injured arm from Logan’s shoulder and clung to the banister.

“Go!” he shouted to Logan.

Logan spared him an exasperated glance and threw the lantern at the Marquis head.

He went down with a screech, rolling back and forth on the small platform to put the flames dancing on his embroidery. The dagger skirted away and over the edge of the platform.

“You go.” Logan snapped at Roman, pulling out his sword and stepping between the two men.

Technically it was Roman’s sword, the one he had left behind in the inn. But Logan has been taking their training sessions seriously and it felt comfortable in his hands. He pointed the blade a the Marquis throat, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“Wow!” Roman laughed and lent to the side to grin at the flabbergasted noble “I trained him.” he said smugly.

“Hurry up!” Logan hissed and to his great relief, Roman did so, inching his way behind Logan and starting up the next flight of stairs.

“Stop.” The Marquis croaked out.

Roman stopped.

Logan turned towards him, frustrated “Roman, I’ve got this – just keep-“

Later, Logan would blame the stress of the situation for just why he chose to turn away from his prisoner at that precise moment.

Before he had chance to process what was happening, he was falling. Pain rippling through his ankle from a well placed kick from the Marquis. He dropped the heavy sword almost immediately, only for it to be snatched up by the larger man.

Logan felt himself being dragged through the air, and all at once he was pinned against the Marquis chest, sword now held at his own neck.

He saw Roman start back down the stairs towards them and felt the Marquis’ hot breath against his ear as he shouted: “Stop!”

Roman stopped. One foot frozen in the air, he lost his balance almost immediately and toppled to the side, reaching out instinctively to grab the banister with his injured hand, letting out a howl of pain.

The Marquis shuffled backwards, dragging Logan with him, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

“I’m serious, Romulus.” the Marquis growled. “Not one more step. Or your friend here is going to be even shorter.”

“I'm average height.” Logan muttered sullenly.

The Marquis snorted in his ear. “Where? In the Dwarf kingdom?”

“Lucius!” Roman whimpered, he was hunched over, cradling his bad arm to his chest. “Please – he’s just a kid!”

“I am only three years younger than you!” Logan cried indignantly.

“Oh right.” Roman muttered. “My bad.” And then Roman straightened up. He hadn’t been cradling his arm at all – he’d been working something out of his tunic.

Roman’s dagger, a dull pointless object in desperate need of replacement, came hurtling towards them.

The Marquis let out a shout and instinctively raised the sword to bat the dagger away. Logan took the opportunity to wrench out of his grip, blindly kicking out behind him as he did so.

His foot made satisfying contact with the Marquis’ knee, sending him toppling off the platform, a resounding series of crashes and shouts echoing through the chamber as he bounced down the stairs.

Logan hurried towards Roman as fast as he could, not bothering to turn around and see how far the Marquis had fallen.

“Can you move?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so.” Roman admitted from his prone position at the base of the steps. Logan bit back a wail of frustration. Roman truly looked done in, his eyes battling to stay open, and there was no way Logan was going to be able to carry him up the-

“Logan? Roman?”

Logan hadn’t been to a city temple since he left his apprenticeship. He had no particular interest in the Gods or their silly squabbles. But the sight of Patton - working his way towards them with his clothing torn and face splattered with blood that wasn’t his own – well. Logan was fairly certain he could pass for an angel.

“You’re safe now.” Logan whispered, although he had no proof of the long term truth of that statement, “go to sleep Roman.”

Roman did as he was told.

Part 8

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - First Time With MC (Lemon)

(Author’s notes: These scenarios do NOT assume a gender for MC, but do write the boys penetrating the reader.)

– Zen –

This isn’t his first rodeo, but he’s not exactly experienced; he’s had, like, one-and-a-half relationships before you. It’s been years since he’s had partnered sex.

And he’s never had sex-ed, either, so his knowledge of the Nasty is kinda lacking. He thinks he can re-use condoms as long as he keeps it on, he believes coconut oil can be used with latex, he thinks birth control pills act as a spermicide, and so on.

You and him initiate sex pretty early on in the relationship, perhaps merely a few days after the RFA party. He’s very romantic about it, too, planning a whole day in advance with rose petals on the bed and scented candles dotting his room. But in the middle of making out, you ask if he’s clean, and he pulls back, confused. “... I think? I mean, I haven’t been with anybody in years, so ...”

Turns out he’s never been tested for STDs. He’s almost offended when you bring it up, like you’re insinuating he’s been cheating on you. You have to explain that getting tested is just what everyone does before having sex with someone for the first time. 

So ... he’s not tested. “Can we ... still do it?” He’s blushing like crazy now, embarrassed he’s so behind on the know-how when he’s the one who wanted this in the first place. 

Partnered sex can still be relatively safe even when an individual’s not been tested, so long as you use lots of protection. But depending on who you are, you might say no, just to be 100% safe. Either way, Zen’s disappointed - not in you, no way, but in himself. God, he’s been looking forward to this night for so long, and he fucked it up by being stupid. He stews in his thoughts silently for a while, and you can tell he’s feeling down so you cuddle him close to have a good long chat about sex, relationships, and communication. Afterwards, he feels much less insecure. The two of you take the rose petals and candles to the bathroom to enjoy your first romantic bath together, instead.

Two days later, he bounces back from the clinic with a negative on every test imaginable. It’s finally time to dig in, and go ham he does, passionately wrapping you into his arms while thrusting deep and slow, trying to have as much skin contact at all times. Oh, god, he loves you, and he’ll spend the whole night proving it.

(Except he definitely couldn’t last the whole night. Your first time having sex was a mere two turns before he clonked out. He’s still embarrassed about that.)

– Yoosung –

It’s his first time having sex, and he’s really nervous. He wants it, wants you badly, but oh my god what if he messes up? What if he farts? Or scratches you in the face? Or he thrusts weird and hurts you and you start bleeding or something?? Dear lord help him

He considers proposing sex like, eight different times. He’s always chickened out, just kissing you on the doorstep before saying goodbye, or letting you leave his dorm without offering to stay the night. It doesn’t help that his dorm is tiny, he’s got a twin bed barely big enough for him. And anybody passing by the door would hear what’s going on inside clear as day. Take his word on that.

He had spent several hours worth on his laptop, doing research on ‘how to have sex for the first time’. He’s got his list of positions to try, how to minimize pain and discomfort, etc, all memorized.. He eventually goes out to get condoms and lube, making sure to use the self-checkout. 

You and him are hanging out in his dorm after a date, and he wasn’t even planning to suck it up and ask you, but you saw the condoms in the shopping bag he forgot to stow away, and you asked him gently, “do you want to be intimate with me, Yoosung?”

He blushes like crazy, you could swear you saw steam lines radiating from his face. But you take his hand in encouragement and he nods eagerly, looking anywhere else but your eyes. “I - I really want this, MC. I’ve been thinking about this for so long ...”

You can tell he’s nervous. The two of you sit on his bed and talk explicitly about what he wants, how you should proceed, what lines to avoid, and lots of other important details. A safeword is confirmed; ‘server maintenance’. He feels much more confident. 

The two of you begin by just kissing on his bed, he slowly dares to feel up your shirt and eventually the clothes come off bit by bit. His body is lean and soft, and he’s loud, too. Just nipping at his pillowy tummy makes him cry out. 

You give him oral, and he’s twisting around, grabbing at pillows and sheets like he’s tumbling down a cliff. He comes without warning and collapses, wrung out and overwhelmed with pleasure. 

Some cuddling afterwards, and then he’s hard again and kissing at your neck. He asks you to ride him, and when you do, he’s sobbing without shame and grabbing hard at your hips.

Some time afterwards, when you and Yoosung are trying to cuddle on his bed without either of you toppling off, he remembers just how loud he’s been and dreads facing anybody in the building tomorrow. You just laugh and tuck him into the bedsheets.

– Jaehee –

She shyly shows off a beautiful new set of lingerie as her way of asking to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. And she’s a real bombshell in it. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Jaehee’s got a bod underneath her suit/cafe uniform.

Unlike certain younger boys, Jaehee didn’t feel the need to agonize over this night over a period of several months. This is a natural progression for her. Once things feel ready between the two of you, it’s natural that the question eventually comes up.

She first shows you her new lingerie in its original packaging, and waits to hear your ‘yes’. Then, it’s time to hop into the bathtub for a long soak and thorough wash before putting it on.

She also gets new toys. Entire shopping bags and shipping boxes filled with insertables, vibrators, pumps, impacts, (and also the supplies needed to maintain them). She didn’t come out and show you these all at once, she’d probably die of embarrassment if she did. But she had them all unwrapped, clean, tested, and ready to use in a discreet box.

You and she actually end up making out on the couch rather than the bedroom. She’s sitting in your lap dressed in her lingerie, you’re fully clothed, and things get so heated the two of you decide to go at it right there.

She’s surprisingly wild. She keeps as much of her lingerie on as possible, even while you’re knuckle deep or pelvis-to-pelvis. The floor is eventually lined with toys as one is used after the other. And she loves taking the initiative with a gentle but firm hand, directing the positions one after the other, or deciding what toy to be used where, and for how long.

A round on the couch, and Jaehee cools down long enough to freak out about staining the upholstery, so she ushers you into the bedroom while she busts out the Lysol. 

After she cleans up, she joins you on the bed for some belated cuddling, and perhaps a second round. Or three.

And it’s actually in the middle of the day, not during the night, so the two of you are completely worn out by dinnertime. Food is takeout, and there’s a lot of it because you need to replenish all that energy.  

Jaehee doesn’t get blushy until you feed her a bite of dessert. It’s cute how confident she is when it comes to sex, but shy about small acts of intimacy. 

– Jumin –

He’s not a virgin, (not that it’s any of your business, Luciel), he had sex with a random girl back in college just to see what the fuss was about, and nothing else since then.

Jumin’s a conservative guy. “Liberalism can only flourish with a good foundation of conservatism.” He believes unmarried couples shouldn’t live together. Of course he’s not gonna be fond of having sex before tying the knot.

It’s not like he rushed the engagement for that reason, but if he was perfectly honest, he did wake up in a cold sweat at 3am when he remembered that this meant the two of you would be intimate very soon. 

Jumin’s got that reputation for being some d/s sex-mad sadist daddy, but that’s not the full picture. You might be able to get him into that specific mood after the two of you establish your relationship more. But for the first few times, it’s all vanilla.

It takes a long while before the wedding actually happens. And, no, Jumin’s not gonna really want to have sex for that entire period. Sure, he’s excited about it, but it’s not a driving, burning need. You, on the other hand, might say differently. 

So if you don’t want to wait four to five months, you’re gonna have to breach the topic yourself. And he’ll be torn - on one hand, he rationally realizes that it’s completely harmless to have consensual sex without martial ties. But he also believes in that supposed virtue of being abstinent until marriage. He also liked the romance of waiting. It’d make the moment more special for him.

Either way, he’s excited. The bed’s furnished with fresh sheets, the lights are dimmed, and there’s five dozen roses in crystal vases throughout the bedroom. 

It’ll start with wine while sitting on the bed - if you don’t drink, you have a glass of something you prefer while he’s sipping on some $12,000 vintage - and he drills a hole in your face with his loving gaze while singing your virtues. He wants you naked before he is, so after some kissing you’ll be nude on the sheets while he finally takes his clothes off.

Jumin has no idea what sex is ‘supposed’ to look like, which is both good and bad - you can tell him to do anything, and he’s not gonna worry about feeling awkward or stupid. But he also needs to be told to do anything. 

If you want him to go faster, or use more tongue, you have to tell him. He’s not gonna take the initiative. If you want him to switch positions, you need to describe exactly how you want to position yourselves. It’s a mixed blessing.

The first round goes quite a while because Jumin was taking it slow. There’s a second round where he gets more adventurous, and maybe a third round depending on how you feel. 

The next morning, the chef’s been hired to prepare a special breakfast, and you can tell that they know. Jumin doesn’t care. He just smiles all day.

– Saeyoung –

He actually was a virgin, which was kinda a surprise. His agent job never require any sort of sex-related work, thank god, and it’s not like he ever earned the attention of anybody else before this point. 

If an agency job had enough time to have sex while in the field, then that meant the job was going down the dumps fast. And whenever Agent 707 was involved, a job never nosedived that far.

It’s (semi) canon that Saeyoung asked to be intimate during the after-ending, while on the search for his brother. It was the night before all your plans would come to fruition, and he didn’t know he would come back alive. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed.”

But it’s ALSO canon that in Saeyoung’s ‘dark chocolate’ Valentine’s Day ending, he asks to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. Which implies that the two of you haven’t had sex yet. 

So what’s the dealio? Basically, Saeyoung wanted to have sex with you that night in the cabin, and after some kissing, you realized that you (1) didn’t have protection, (2) neither of you have been tested recently, and (3) your current emotional states weren’t ideal for sex, especially since Saeyoung was a virgin. He left a lot of hickies on your neck instead, and the two of you held each other close the whole night. 

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, it had been two months since Saeran was rescued and Saeyoung was feeling a lot happier. You made it to the end of the scavenger hunt to find an amorous redhead that was ~prepared~ this time. An entire shopping bag full of prophylactics, lube, band-aids, water bottles, and everything. 

He managed to fake a confident persona up until he undressed you fully, then he found himself blushing like crazy when you undressed him in turn. Damn, he really was hiding muscles underneath that hoodie. His arms were woven cable, and underneath his pudge you could feel shapely abs. 

He asked to be on top, you complied, rolling over and allowing him to explore your body with his hands and mouth. It took three tries to enter you, because without his glasses, you were a bit of a blurry blob. But once he was in, he went at it. Maybe even a bit too enthusiastic for the first few thrusts, he was just running on some animalistic instinct he didn’t know he had. 

Two minutes later, he was blindsided by a surprise orgasm. Embarrassed, he rolled off of you and buried his face into the sheets. You had to stroke his hair soothingly for ten minutes before he would look you in the face. 

Saeyoung’s first evening of sex had one ‘disastrous’ first try, then a much better second run, and then after dinner there was a third ... and also .5 a prance while in the shower.  

– Saeran –

You’re his first sexual partner, but more than that, today also marks a big step in his self-confidence. He’s cashing in his newfound tolerance for his body and constitution. Saeran spent most of his life hating his ‘weak’ health and thinking anybody’d be repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have sex if he didn’t believe differently. 

So it’s probably several months - perhaps years - into your relationship that he even brings up having sex. Even though he may be ready, he’s still nervous and shy and unsure about how to proceed. 

Before the big night, he spends several minutes in front of the mirror, looking at his body. He’s gained weight and a new color to his skin thanks to his healthier lifestyle, and there’s this confidence to his posture that wasn’t there before. A sparkle in his eye. It’s incredible how far he’s come from hating every inch of himself. He smiles.

He prepares one of his Patented Saeran’s Romantic Dinners, complete with candlelight and ambient music. The two of you have done this several times before, but this time there’s an electricity in the air ‘cause of what’s to come. You notice that the food has no garlic, or other strong smells. Saeran’s more cunning than he looks. 

As dessert finishes up, he gets more quiet, until the conversation dies down and there’s nothing for it; he takes a deep breath and says, “....Sh-shall we go to bed?” Like this hasn’t been planned weeks in advance. The two of you walk hand-in-hand to the bedroom, where there’s even more candles and another stereo playing soft music, and you picture Saeran putting together a ‘having sex for the first time’ playlist.

You begin by kissing Saeran lying beneath you, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder and asks to switch positions, because he doesn’t like the feeling of you hovering over him. It’s another mark of his progress that he asks for adjustments. 

Things progress slowly. Saeran feels out what makes him feel anxious, and what makes him feel good. The two of you end up side-by-side as he takes you, facing each other with your legs wrapped around his waist. Very intimate. Very sweet. He loves threading his fingers through your hair, and he mewls every time you fondle his ears. 

His health is still shaky, so he only has the stamina for one round before he needs to rest. He all but demands you inch as close as possible so he falls asleep holding you tight. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got a 1000-watt smile. 

– Jihyun –

Out of the entire wacky cast of Mystic Messenger boys, Jihyun’s the only actual experienced one. You don’t have to tell him that a single pack of five condoms is waaayy too little, you don’t have to explain what dental dams are, or worry about him using oil-based lube on accident, and he’s the only one who actually showers thoroughly beforehand. 

It begins with your typical night of cuddling-and-kissing, then Jihyun says he’s clean and he’s got a bedside cabinet full of supplies. He gently holds your hand and asks, ‘”if you’d like …? We could … if you’re comfortable. If you’d have me.” He’s blushing, but he’s confident. 

Of course, even if you’re experienced, the first time with anybody is gonna be awkward. And Jihyun’s a surprisingly big guy to maneuver. There’s a lot of accidental elbowing, bonking of the heads, kneeling on sensitive bits, and little scrapes. His long limbs seemingly end up everywhere on the bed, and it’s like you’re playing twister. 

Mistakes just make him laugh. You trip over his outstretched forearm and face plant into his shoulder, and he just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss. 

He’s just so soft and loving. ‘Cause to Jihyun, it’s about ~making love~. He wants to go slow, looking into your eyes, cradling your head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

Tries to get you off first, either through oral or otherwise. He’s not a big fan of any positions that turn you away from him, it’s just too rough and aggressive. He’d rather carry you on his shoulders before he prefers doggy style. 

Checks in with you constantly, asks what you like and where you like to be touched. Tries to get you to literally guide his hands. In turn, he asks you to please, touch his legs, his thighs ... yes, kiss me there - 

For your first time, he’d rather have a one-two long sessions than multiple quick ones. He believes sex is one of the most intimate methods of non-verbal communication, and the longer you go in one sitting, the more is passed between the two of you. 

He’s never used toys in his life. If you decide to pull one out for your first time, he’s gonna blush like crazy and actually decline. He wants the first night to be 'organic’. And he’s so driven towards that romantic face-to-face lovemaking, he won’t go too hard or fast, even if you’re begging him. 

After the sex, he wraps you up in a cozy blanket before fetching some hot tea and fresh fruit. Then there’s several minutes spent reviewing how things went, what things worked well, or how they can improved. He catalogues it all for later. 

He rarely wants to fall asleep right after sex, so you might pass out peacefully, but he’s gonna stay awake, just gazing at you for a while. 

[doyumacy]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 12 (finale)

gif not mine

pairing: taeyong x doyoung x reader

warnings: 「dotae x reader, car accident, mentions of panic attack, mentions of blood. character goes into labor」

word count: 「 3,7k 」

A few days pass and you find yourself babysitting Aera for the third time and Doyoung and Taeyong won’t let you even touch her, they’re having fun with her and you honestly love seeing them.

You want your own kid. You’re pretty sure of that.

They want to take her to the park but she is still too young to go out to the park. When Aeri is finally taking a nap, you sit in the middle of the two men and rest your hands on each of their knees. “When are you getting your period?” Doyoung asks.

“Next week,” you reply.

“You’ll be ovulating then,” Taeyong nods.

You laugh. “You’ve been checking my ovulation days?”

“Kind of?” Taeyong shrugs. “We’ve been tracking them.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung kisses your forehead. “We want to get you pregnant.”

You smile. “Me too.”

Days turn into weeks and weeks into months and you still haven’t gotten pregnant. You know that it will take some time since you were on birth control for almost three years. And Doyoung and Taeyong aren’t desperate since they use it as an excuse to keep fucking you all night. And being honest, you love it. It’s like they’re competing with each other to see who gets you pregnant first.

You’re enjoying you’re still three: going on dates, having dinner at your favourite restaurants, going on small trips and staying up late watching some tv shows.

One night, when you’re still at the office and it’s pretty late, you get an unexpected visitor, Mark.

“Hey…” you greet him. “How are you?”

Mark smiles slightly. “Hey, y/n. Sorry for coming at this hour.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Do you need something?”

“I do, actually,” he presses his lips together. “I uhm need to talk to you about something.”

You nod. “What is it?”

“You know Jackson and I used to be friends, right?” He looks at you. “He… left me some instructions in case I didn’t hear from him in 6 months.”

You frown. “Instructions?”

He sits in front of you and stares at you. “End you.”

You choke a laugh. “End me? What are you talking about, Mark? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Listen, I like you and I believe you’re nice,” he rests an elbow on the desk and his chin on his palm. “But Jackson to me was… everything.”

“He manipulated you, too.” You state. “Mark, whatever Jackson made you believe it wasn’t true. He does this. Did this. You have everything, don’t let Jackson poison you.”

Mark clenches his jaw. “Don’t talk about him when he’s not around anymore.”

“Open your eyes, Mark!” Your eyes dart to him. “You were his puppet!”

Mark stands up and you don’t know he ends up grabbing your jaw, gripping at it. “I told you to not talk about him. He was the love of my life and now he’s dead because of you.”

You push him away. “Stop it.” You groan. “If you leave now I’ll forget this happened.”

Mark smiles sideways. “An eye for an eye, y/n.”

“Don’t you dare, Mark,” your voice shakes.

“You will know what is to lose the love of your life.”

You slap him in the face and push him. “Don’t you dare, Mark. Do whatever you want to me but don’t touch Taeyong or Doyoung, you hear me?”

Mark fixes your suit jacket and stares at you. “If I were you I’d be heading home, you might have to throw a funeral. Or two.”

(...)

You are aware that you’re speeding and texting and calling while you’re driving, but you don’t care. Taeyong and Doyoung are not picking their phones and your heart’s race is racing. When you enter the underground parking of your building, you realise neither of their cars are parked there. You gulp and try to call them again. Nothing.

They earlier that day texted you they’d stay at the office until late since they had some paperwork to finish and you hoped they were still there. You drive to their office and sigh in relief when you see their cars there.

You get into the building and go to their floor and see the lights on and the silhouettes through the glass. You enter their office and they startle since they weren’t expecting anyone. You run to them, with your legs shaking and tug them for a hug.

“y/n? Are you alright, my love?” Doyoung asks, stroking your hair.

“What are you doing here, baby?” Taeyong kisses your temple.

“I just…” you sigh, still hugging them. “I needed to see you guys.”

They slightly chuckle. “You can’t live without us, don’t you?” Doyoung pinches your nose.

You gently shake your head. “I love you. Both of you. I love you so much.”

“We love you, too, baby,” Taeyong strokes your cheek. “What happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“You two weren’t picking your phones,” you murmur. “I got worried.”

Doyoung frowns and he realises he has his phone in silence and Taeyong is on airplane mode.

“Sorry, love,” Doyoung kisses your forehead. “Are you hungry?”

You shake your head. “Can I stay here?”

“Of course you can,” Taeyong pulls a chair out so you can sit.

You sit and watch them work, and being honest, you’re scared of leaving the office thinking of something that can happen on your way back home.

Several hours later, Taeyong and Doyoung are ready to go. Taeyong grabs his suit jacket and folds it into his arm meanwhile Doyoung puts it back on. They turn to you and they realise you’ve fallen asleep with your arms resting on the desk and your head between them.

They softly smile and Doyoung takes you in his arms, you open your eyes and move in his arms, he plants a kiss on your forehead. “Shhh, go back to sleep. I’ll drive us home.”

“Can the three of us drive in the same car?” you say, with your raspy voice.

Taeyong grabs your purse and he frowns. “Why?”

“Just because,” you reply.

“You’re acting weird tonight, y/n,” Taeyong murmurs.

“I just love you, guys.”

“We’ll talk later. Let’s go home,” Doyoung says.

When you arrive at the penthouse it’s almost 3 am and you feel drained. All you wanna do is to sleep and cuddle with your boyfriends.

You’re brushing your teeth and Taeyong places himself behind you, he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. “What’s going on, baby?”

You sigh and finish brushing your teeth. “I’m just tired. I had a terrible day.”

He kisses your cheek. “You can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nod. “But now I just want to sleep.”

“Okay, let’s get to bed then,” he turns you around and unbuttons your pants.

You giggle. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna help you to get into your pajamas,” he gives you a peck on the nose.

“Okay,” you grin.

Taeyong finishes helping you to get into your pajamas and then takes you to the bed where Doyoung is already laying. He smiles when you lay next to him and Doyoung wraps his arms behind you. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight,” you smile.

Taeyong gives you one last kiss and turns off the lights.

And there, in Doyoung’s arms and next to Taeyong, you feel safer.

The following days you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel you’re being followed and even have nightmares where Doyoung and Taeyong are found dead. Luckily for you, they have been really busy and you have barely seen them.

You can barely eat or sleep and you keep yourself occupied with work and visiting Jaehyun and Aeri. That same night, you drive back home tired. You can hardly keep your eyes on the road. As you drive through the freeway, you spot a black car behind you, speeding. You change lines and so do they. You change lines again and they do it again. You freeze.

You speed up and you notice the car speeds up as well. You grip at the wheel and avoid as many cars as you can. You exit the freeway and so does the black car. You want to cry, but you can’t distract yourself from the road. The black car passes you and you’re sure it’s going to hit you so you move the car hitting a parked car.

As the news was delivered from the hospital of your car crash and no more information, Doyoung feels himself breaking. Taeyong manages to keep it together, requesting for your room number, before thanking the caller and hanging up.

When they arrive at the hospital, they are told that you suffered from minor injuries but you are dehydrated and going through so much stress.

Doyoung notices blood seeping through the bandage on your head and a small cut on your right cheek. You are unconscious and the doctor explains to them they had to sedate you since you had a panic attack, stating a car was following you. The police checked the cams and they found no evidence of a car following you through the freeway and the exit of it.

You sleep all night like you haven’t done in days, and when you wake up you see Doyoung talking to a nurse and Taeyong focused on their talk. You clear your throat and rest a hand on your head. It hurts.

“You feel okay, my love?” Doyoung approaches you.

“My head hurts,” you answer, shutting your eyes.

“I’ll bring her some food and her meds. Be right back,” the nurse says.

The nurse exits the room and you sigh. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Taeyong looks at you.

You shake your head. “I just remember having dinner with Jaehyun and then going home. Everything after that is blurry.”

Doyoung sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. “You said someone was following  you and hit a car. You seriously don’t remember?”

You frown and rub your temples. “I don’t… fuck.”

“It’s okay,” Doyoung places a hand on your knee. “You’re fine.”

“Doctor’s said you’re under so much stress and had a panic attack,” Taeyong walks towards your bed. “What’s going on?”

You press your lips together and then bite your lip. “Mark and Jackson were… lovers? And Mark now’s seeking revenge.” You pause, feeling your eyes water. “He went to my office and said he’d kill both of you and I can’t sleep, I can’t eat because I feel like I’m being followed all the time.”

You start crying and cover your face with your hands. “I’m sorry I caused all this, but I just… I’m scared. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how.”

You sob and they let you cry. You need to let it out. Taeyong rubs your back in circles and Doyoung grips at your thigh.. “Love?” Doyoung calls you.

You are still covering your face with your hands and Doyoung takes one of your hands. You look at him. “He already tried, okay? He didn’t succeed because I would never let someone hurt us.”

You frown and look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Mark tried to break into our home nights ago,” Taeyong strokes your hair. “Doyoung caught him and sort of beat the shit out of him. He’ll never bother us again. We made sure of that.”

You cry again. “I caused all of this. I’m sorry, guys. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say that,” Doyoung holds your hand. “You didn’t cause a thing, there’s just evil people out there that will try to hurt others, but I won’t let them. You’re okay now. We’re okay.”

A few months go by and everything is back to normal. Or almost everything.

You, Doyoung and Taeyong are at Jaehyun and Johnny’s house having dinner. It has become something you do every Friday after work. When you all are done eating, Johnny invites Doyoung and Taeyong to the mini bar in their living room and you stay with Jaehyun. He fills his wine again and has a sip. “So, when are you going to tell them?” He asks you.

You turn your face to him. “How did you know?”

“You’re not drinking and this is your favourite wine,” he shrugs. “Also, your boobs look huge. Is that or you had your boobs done.”

You laugh and smile, nodding. “I think I’m gonna tell them tomorrow, or maybe next week.”

“Why do you keep waiting? They go crazy every time they’re with Aera, make them happy by giving them the news,” Jaehyun says.

You rub the back of your neck and giggle. “It’s just that… sex has become way hotter, you know? They’re competing with each other and it’s so hot. And I’m also horny every time because of hormones.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I can’t stand you, I really can’t. You all three have been fucking like bunnies for months.”

“Oh, you just want to be me so bad,” you softly push him.

Jaehyun chuckles. “Not anymore. So tell me, how did you find out?”

You stare down at the pregnancy test in your hands. Those five minutes may seem like the longest five minutes in the world, but hell if it is positive your world would change. You sit down on the toilet seat and tap your fingers on the counter, getting more and more impatient with every slowly passing second.

You expect yourself to be nervous, but surprisingly you aren't. You're thrilled and you predict the results already, seeing as you have thrown up the past few mornings. You just want to make sure.

You look back down at the pregnancy test, and sharply inhale when you see that the result is there.

“Positive.” You whisper.

You feel a smile grow on your face as you stand up from the toilet and set the test on the counter. Giggling slowly, you softly rub your belly, knowing that your child is in there.

You then realise something that you should have thought of before, but slipped your mind.

“Whose baby is it?” You think of your two lovers, Taeyong and Doyoung. They will both be ecstatic as you when they find out, as you have been trying to have a baby for months.

Either way you are happy. It's Taeyong and Doyoung's child.

“Aw,” Jaehyun smirks. “I’m so happy for you. If someone deserves to be happy it’s you.”

You stand up and hug him from behind wrapping your hands around his neck and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jaehyun grins. “I just hope I’m their godfather.”

“We’ll talk later,” you mutter and he frowns. You laugh. “I’m kidding, dumbass! Of course you will be the godfather.”

The next morning, Doyoung and Taeyong bicker about how boring is the movie Doyoung chose and Doyoung stating back that Taeyong has the worst taste for movies. They're standing in front of the tv in the living room  and you roll your eyes.

“Guys, we need to talk,” you tell them as you sit them down on the sofa and stand before them.

“You know conversations that start like this rarely end well right?” Taeyong asks. Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and wrings his hands nervously. Doyoung looks to Taeyong before looking back at you.

“What is it, y/n?” Doyoung asks.

“Maybe I should’ve said that there’s something I need to tell you,” you say and you stare at your hands.

“Seriously, y/n, what’s going on?” Taeyong asks, more worried than before.

“I’m pregnant."

“y/n that’s wonderful! Oh my god.” Taeyong stands up

“Oh god, love. For a second I thought you'd break up with us,” Doyoung follows Taeyong and both men hug you. "These are amazing news."

“This is going to be great!” Taeyong smirks. "Oh my god. I'm so happy."

“Yeah, I can just imagine you waddling around the house with a beautiful baby bump.” Doyoung smiles at you.

“And kissing it all the time and rubbing it, getting to feel the baby kick!” Taeyong sighs smiling.

“You’ll look so gorgeous like that y/n, I won’t know what to do with myself.”

The two showers praise after praise onto you, only stopping when you put a hand over each of their mouths.

“Stop it.” You say, laughing at them.

“Never. We love you too much y/n” Doyoung strokes your cheek.

Doyoung and Taeyong wrap their arms around you and hold you, only letting go after you clear your throat to get their attention.

“Um. We’ll have to make a doctor’s appointment within the next couple days, and I would really like it if you both came.” you smile at them.

“Of course, baby. We wouldn’t miss it for the world. I promise," Taeyong kisses your forehead.

“It’ll all be okay, love. We’ll be there for you every step of the way," Doyoung softly smiles.

You nod and then you remember. “I'm not sure who's the father...”

They look at each other, not having thought about that and feeling stupid that they didn’t, considering only one of them is the other biological parent.

“We could get a paternity test done? Or we could just let it be a secret and figure out who the baby is most similar to other than you. What do you want, love?”

“It doesn’t matter who the other parent is to me, I’m just happy that I get to have a baby with the loves of my life.” you say, hugging Doyoung and pulling Taeyong to hug the two of you.

“We are too, y/n. We are too.”

Your pregnancy went well. Of course, during the first trimester there were some things that made you question motherhood, like waking up in the middle of the night because you always had to pee. During that time, you were also really tired and you always had to take naps whenever you could.

In the second trimester, you had cravings for salty foods like pickles and anchovies, which Doyoung hated because the smell of anchovies gave him nausea.

And by the third trimester,  you could no longer sleep on your stomach and Doyoung and Taeyong were worried about hurting the baby so they were reluctant to have sex.

One morning, two weeks before your due date, Doyoung and Taeyong had to leave for a meeting and you stayed at the penthouse.

You are settled on the couch with a warm mug of cocoa and a book. You run your hand over your belly and smile.

You suddenly feel a contraction but don't think anything of it. You know that Braxton Hicks contractions are a thing and have been experiencing them for quite some time now. Or rather it seems like it has been a long time. You put a mark in your book and breath through the contraction to keep yourself calm.

To your surprise, fifteen minutes later, you have another contraction. And another fifteen after that. You decide to place the book back on the shelf and attempt to call Taeyong. Perhaps this means that you are actually going into labor.You hold your phone up to your ear. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't pick up. You dial Doyoung's number and go to voicemail. You take a deep breath. Perhaps you're simply suffering more Braxton Hicks than you usually do.

That theory disappears when your water breaks only a few minutes after the next contraction. You take a deep breath again, trying to keep yourself calm. You call them again. And again, they don't pick up. "Shit," you whisper. You hold yourself from the shelf when you feel a new contraction.

"My phone died," Doyoung groans as he walks to his car next to Taeyong.

"I didn't bring my charger," Taeyong says and he pulls his phone out from his pants. He frowns. "I have 7 missed calls from y/n."

Doyoung stares at him and Taeyong blinks. "Shit."

"Don't you dare to speed down," Taeyong warns him as he gets in the car.

“We are never having sex again!” You yell.

“I know… now wait a minute,” Doyoung pouts. You squeeze your eyes shut as the pain subsides and you can breathe again. “It’s going to be okay, love. I promise.”

"And what took you so long?!" You groan, staring at Taeyong.

"Sorry, but we're here, baby," Taeyong kisses your hand. "Everything is okay, baby."

“Do you want to squeeze a small watermelon out of your dick next?” You ask and both men blink. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

“Hey, it’s okay,” Taeyong kissed your forehead. “I just wish I could understand what you’re going through.”

You squeeze both of their hands as you cry out. "Shit!"

“I know it hurts,” Doyoung kisses your hand.

“Not much longer and you’ll be able to rest.” The doctor examines you and smiles.

“Okay, I think it’s time to push,” She tells you.

Doyoung and Taeyong hold your hand and offer words of encouragement while you push. And right now, you are just really in pain. It's hot, you are angry, and you are ready for this baby to join them.

It feels like a century later before you hear the cries of the newest baby. A little baby boy is placed in your arms. You smile as you look down at him.

“Oh my god,” You whisper. “Tae, Doie, look.”

“He’s perfect,” Doyoung has tears in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“You did it babe. Oh my lord, he's beautiful." Taeyong kisses your cheek.

You look down at your son and you carefully rub his head. It might be too soon, but you're pretty sure who the father is, and is a secret you won't share, or until people notice it.

"When are we having the second one?" Doyoung jokes.

[bl--ankhaeji]

Aphrodisiac

Pairing ~ Witch!WinWin x Witch!Reader 

Genre ~ smut,,enemies to lovers,,secret magic schoolau ig

Warning ~ oral both male and fem receiving,,creampie,,multiple orgasms,,drugging?(not really but..really),,overstim,,brief mention of death,,I think that’s it 

 A/N ~ This is something I made for Halloween. Yes I know it has passed but idc 😂. This is my longest fic so far and I’m kinda excited for you guys to read it. I also want to thank my beta readers/editors for this @kjmsupremacist @bumblebeenct @starlit-jeno @earth-to-that-asian You guys were such a big help and I’m glad to have you all as my moots as well. 

W. Count ~ 7.1k

The sound of the bell rang throughout the school signaling the end of your second to last class. The metallic slam of locker doors and murmurs of hundreds of students filled the hallways as you made your way towards the gym. A tired sigh leaves your lips as you maneuver through students; you don’t have time to say hi to your friends that call your name over the chatter in the halls, hoping the leisurely wave you throw towards them suffices you make your way past them. The heavy doors of the gymnasium weigh on your arms as you push them out of the way, heading towards the back of the school. Which to others may just look like some woods, but you know that everything is not always as it appears to be. 

Before long a worn down cobblestone road came into view and even though you could barely tell the haphazardly placed rocks were a trail, you knew just how to get to where you were going without the help of the rocks. Pretty soon the road started to clear up to the point that one could walk it easily without the risk of twisting an ankle. The slight sound of running water you had heard for the past 15 minutes got significantly louder, signaling that the waterfall you had consistently visited plenty of times was close, which also let you know that your destination was near. 

You could practically see the ever glowing lights of the cottage where you got better at your craft lighting up the dark forest. The upwards bridge of the cottage now in view, you started to mumble a soft yet powerful spell under your breath. Upon reaching the closed wooden gate you look up, eyes winding the covered bridge until you see the seemingly lifeless cottage covered in a blanket of vines. Still in the midst of conjuring you raise your right hand, the sound of your magic crackling in the silence as a white orb forms from the center of your palm. With the spell heavy on your lips, you hold the decently sized orb to the vines and as the light touches them they slowly start to unwrap themselves from around the gate. 

Placing the orb on top of the vines, you watch as it flows up the path with you directly behind it still casting the spell. Finally stepping up to the porch, you watch as your orb floats to the very top of the elevated cottage touching the vines up there so that all of them will clear. You can feel the change in the air as you step through the doors of the now brightly lit cottage and a smile takes over your face. 

The door slams shut behind you, causing your smile to fall, and instantly you’re on high alert. A million and one spells sweep throughout your mind that you could possibly use to fend off whoever the intruder is, “Ahh the old Disentanglement Orb, quite a beautifully difficult spell if I do say so myself. Always gets the job done. Only set back though is how much energy and time it takes to execute,” Looking towards the voice, you turn to face your foe; upon seeing the body situated in the chair you immediately relax, letting out a tired sigh. “But you always were, and I quote, ‘An exemplary student with a thirst for betterment!’”   

“Fuck you Sicheng. Oh, and you really should get out of Ms.Torrent’s chair before she comes to class. She was already wondering where you’ve been the past couple of weeks,” you say, rolling your eyes. The sound of your steps against the wood echo through the room as you make your way to one of the two desks situated in the room. You start getting your things out of your bag preparing for class when you hear an ouch come from where the boy sat. 

Walking to his seat with his hands in his pockets free of items he sits in his seat facing you, “You wound me, sweets. I was just teasing, you know you should really think about surgery,” he says with his head sat atop his hand. You give him a confused look. What kind of surgery is he talking about? “You should really think about getting surgery to remove the stick from your ass, you seem a little uptight lately.” 

The anger you feel starts as a low simmer; not much, but still there. Looking up from where you stand above your desk, you make eye contact with the seated male. “What did you just say to me?” 

“You heard me,” he says.

“You know what Sicheng what the fuck is your problem with me, huh?” You can already feel your magic starting to stir in the pit of your stomach. You were never the best at controlling your anger. 

A snicker falls from his lips as he stands up. “Oh my problem? How could I have a problem with Miss Prodigy over here, little goody five shoes? No one ever sees her without her head in a book, or better yet up some teacher’s ass.” 

“Shut the fuck up right now. You don’t know me or anything about me.” Flashes of your dead father's body laid in front of you circulated through your mind. Ever since that day, you had to fend for yourself and your mother, who was human. That also meant that you were left to learn magic all on your own, since your mother couldn’t help you at all and the only witch in your family, your father, was no longer around to teach you himself. 

“Since we’re throwing shots at least I worked for everything I have. I strived to perfect the witch in me, unlike spoiled daddy’s boy over here who’s had everything on a silver platter since birth. The best tutors, conjurers, postionists, the best everything. And even if you weren’t as good at magic as you are, you would still be in the position you are because of daddy’s money.” You were absolutely heated at this point; any more and your magic would start firing off by itself. 

Sicheng looked as if he was ready to take your head off, and he actually could with a simple spell but that’s besides the point. A navy blue aura, the color of his magic, encased his body. Oozing power that was advanced for someone of his age. But he wasn’t the only one who had honed their skills way past where they should be. 

You couldn’t see it yourself, but you knew you were also sheathed in the white aura of your own magic. The air in the room grew rampant with the amount of angry power circulating through it. The bottles of potions and herbs on shelves started to rattle as if there were an earthquake. The few plants Ms.Torrent had around the classroom started to droop considerably because of  the negative energy. Out of the corner of your eye you could see things starting to float in the air. 

It was as if you had split the classroom down the middle, and by now you assumed your magic had grown large enough as to place a cast over your side of the classroom. The objects floating on your side faced toward the boy and his alike. You and Sicheng were about to tear this classroom to shreds. You both were so focused on each other that you didn’t even notice the door to Ms.Torrent’s upstairs office open. 

“Hey, do you guys know why the ambiance in this place just got so dark all of a- HEY! What the fuck are you guys doing in my classroom?” With a furious wave of her hand everything stopped. The rattling ceased and the army of objects you and Sicheng both had were quickly overtaken by gravity. The sound of them hitting the floor was the only thing to be heard besides Ms. Torrent’s angry breathing. “I leave you two alone for a few minutes before class starts and I walk in to find the two of you at each other's throats. I thought I told you guys what my rules for entering this classroom were the first day you walked in here as the witch novices you were and still are,” she said with a deadly calm voice, the look in her eyes anything but. 

It was the first time she ever called you guys anything other than her usual surgery terms of endearment. “And you both broke not one but two of the only rules I gave you. I thought for almost fully grown witches, you would be able to at least understand and abide by those, but I guess I overestimated you both. Now since you both seem to have forgotten, I’ll ask this once and once only. What are my rules for entering this room?” 

Simultaneously you and Sicheng start to repeat the rules she told you both on the first day you walked into the room. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You had finally made it, after years of stealing spell books from the hidden parts of the libraries you worked at, rereading every single book left in your father’s study over and over and over again, and practicing spells on your own everyday until you finally were able to get a real teacher. So of course you remember the first and only solid rules she gave you when you walked through the door. 

“I’ll only tell you guys these rules once, break them and you’re out.” Your new teacher said with a straight face. “First, the only time your magic is to be used in this room is when I give permission for you to use it. Other than that you are not allowed to use it. Seeing as how I am supposed to teach you magic you’ll virtually always be able to use it. Second, you shall under no circumstances unless permitted sparing use your magic to harm or mess with your classmate in any way. That includes helping them by lending magic, because if you do that you’ll only hinder their growth which hurts them.” After she said those words a huge smile grew on her face as she greeted you both warmly, a stark contrast to her face now as she glared into your souls as you recited the two rules she put in place. 

“I know I said you would be out if you ever broke either of those rules, but seeing as how you two are some of my favorite students I’ve ever had, despite your constant bickering with one another, you both are seniors this year I won’t kick you out. It is also your first offence, so I won’t punish you both too harshly.” She finally moves from in front of you both to behind her desk at the whiteboard. “Now that all of that is settled let's start class shall we?”  

~

“DUCK!” Ms.Torrent yells as the cauldron in front of her starts to bubble ferociously. You and Sicheng immediately get under your respective lab tables eyes still towards the front preparing for the worst. Pretty soon the fushia colored liquid inside explodes the miniature mushroom cloud filtering out into the caricature of a duck. Ms. Torrent’s laughs fill the room at her joke and you can’t help but to let out some giggles as the duck slowly deforms when the smoke starts to disperse in the air. 

“Oh shoot, it’s almost time for class to be over. You both should be getting ready to head back now, but before you go don’t think I forgot about your punishment. I was going to do this myself when I got back from my trip in two weeks-I already told you both about it-but now I don’t have to. Tomorrow you both will come here and do my inventory, clean up, and herb scavenging for me. I will write down everything you need to know, so have a good day and I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She says it with a blinding smile, as if she didn’t just ruin your weekend and your only off day.    

~

“Well hello my two beautiful apprentices. May I ask how your days have been before you guys get started?” With a head full of wild curls covered by a cliche witch hat Ms.Torrent enters the room with a satchel that clinks with every step she makes. A grunt leaves your mouth at the question, too tired to formulate an actual response. You were honestly surprised you were able to make it on time. You didn’t care to dress according to your usual school attire, instead opting out for gym shorts and a loose crop sweatshirt. 

You look over at Sicheng sitting quietly in his chair on the other side of the room for the first time today and see he also exchanged his usual leather jacket and jeans for a tight t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Honestly, if you didn’t hate this man with every fiber of your being, you would say he looks rather delectable right now. His t-shirt basically melded with his body and his sweatpants left nothing to the imagination when you looked at his strong thighs highlighting almost all of the muscles you knew he had, seeing as how he was captain of the soccer team in regular school. If you looked hard enough you could almost see a dick prin-.  

“Oh my, look at the time! I have to head out soon. Okay, so for one, you guys just have to clean up the place; you know, sweep, dust a little, and mop if you’re feeling crazy. Meanwhile for the inventory, I have made a list of the things I should have and exactly how much as of right now and I also made a list for the scavenging. I listed everything I need and exactly how much I need,” she says handing the paper to you. 

Taking a look at all the things she needs, you notice she doesn’t tell you where to get the stuff she needs. You stop her just before she walks out of the door. “Oh that, well I wouldn’t be your teacher if I didn’t help you get better at magic, and to do so I did not list where each plant could be found nor did I list the safest way to obtain them. That my dear little flounders is for you to figure out, I trust you won’t kill yourselves.” She winks as she shouts her departure before you hear a crackle in the sky and see lightning the color of the most vivid orange you had ever seen appear and disappear in the blink of an eye with Ms.Torrent.     

Looking over at Sicheng, you see his phone in his hand and realize he was more than likely too occupied with it playing games to realize what Ms.Torrent just said. “Hey come on, let’s get this over with. I want to go home and sleep as soon as possible,” you say to him, standing up, the sound of your chair squeaking against the floor before you walk over, grabbing the broom and duster out of the supply closet. 

Looking him in the eye, you toss him the broom and sit the duster on the teacher’s desk as you clean the whiteboard. You hear him stand up, and the sound of the broom sweeping against the floor echoes through the room. There’s a nice silence hanging in the air and neither of you dare to break it. Finishing up the whiteboard, you move to start dusting. Not looking where you’re going, you collide with a sturdy yet soft surface. A smell, a sort of calming masculine scent with a hint of spice and detergent hit your nose, and you looked up to see Sicheng staring back at you, eyes blazing, and as you inhaled more of the intoxicating scent you thought in your mind that it actually really fit him. 

“Watch where you’re going next time,” he says in a stiff voice whilst his hands go to your shoulders, moving you out of his way so that he can start on the inventory upstairs while he waits on you to finish dusting. You nod your head instinctively, not really processing what just happened. You decide to clean the surface of Ms.Torrent’s plants since you read somewhere that doing that helps with growth. Once you finish you start absentmindedly dusting anything you see, trying to think about something else. You’re almost done dusting seeing as how there wasn’t much dust on the bottom floor, you’ve already found yourself on the top floor when you make it to the shelves. Starting from the bottom, you dust the parts as Sicheng sweeps up near where you just got done dusting. 

You run into a problem when you can no longer reach the rest of the shelves to dust them because they’re too high up. Standing on your tiptoes, you feel your shorts ride up as you try your hardest to reach until you realize it's no use. You start casting a spell to clean the top when you feel a presence behind you and all of a sudden the heady smell invades your nostrils again, and you feel heat radiating from the body situated behind you.

“Let me help.” Sicheng’s strong voice reverberates through the quiet air and you can feel the vibrations from his chest on your back as one of his hands lands on your waist while the other takes the duster from your hands. You can feel the heat from his hand on your waist and for some reason it stirs something inside of you. His strong body is pinned against yours and you can feel just about every ridged curve on the surface of his skin. You’re so close together that you know your ass is lightly pressed against his crotch.  

The urge to grind against his covered dick is tempting and suddenly you come to your senses as you wonder what the hell you’re thinking. You quickly spin around in his arms to face him, placing your hands on his chest and your movement causes Sicheng to look down at you. “Uhh I-I’ll g-go get the herbs. Bye,” you ramble out as you shove him firmly to the side so that you could move from under him. You grab your rucksack and the list that she left and run down the stairs and out of the door. 

Walking in the woods got to be tiring so now you’re just floating swiftly but calmly, passing trees on the way. You’re a little ways from having all of the herbs on the list, only needing one more to finish. You had been scavenging for magic herbs and plants before, so you knew what type of places to look for most of the ones listed. You don’t really know what she meant by ‘the safest way to obtain them; so far you haven’t come across any troubles that could be a potential threat to your life. 

Looking at the time, you see it’s about midday. If you moved a little faster, hopefully you could be done before 3. Looking in a book of herbs, you see the name of the last one herb you have to get: the Spiky Skunkweed. It says that the skunkweed is known for its pungent rotting flesh odor. Some say it smells just like a dead skunk that emits up to a 5 mile radius. The only way one can even think of going near and hoping to obtain it is to stop the smell. “Five mile radius, huh?” you say out loud, sniffing the air to see if you smell anything similar to what you read. With no noticeable unpleasant odor, you determine that you don’t have the time to float around until you smell it. 

You open your grimoire and see if there’s a spell to enhance your sense of smell. “Found it.” Outburst of Senses, it increases your senses ten fold. Reading over the incantation method, you take the sacred oil and apply it to your nose preparing to voice the spell. You start chanting unrecognizable words to any who would hear as the oil on your nose starts to tingle. Casting consistently, you feel your sense of smell getting better; you’re now able to smell even the tiniest amount of dew sat upon the plants beneath your feet. The tingle on your nose has now resolved to an itchy burn and you look down, seeing that the spell is almost over. The last words of the incantation sit softly upon your lips as the burn on your nose dies down. 

Now with your magnified sense of smell, you’re able to quickly smell the Spiky Skunkweed almost as if it were right beside you. Speeding up your floating, you head in the direction of the scent. Even though the overpowering stench of the plant clouds your senses, you’re still able to enjoy the other bountiful amount of smells. Smells you had never smelt in your life hit your nostrils each giving different impressions. You could smell the twangy bitterness of Twin Winberries on a bush that was miles away from you so vividly you could almost taste it. The scent of the sickly sweet sap trapped inside of every other tree you passed was so strong that it almost made your stomach hurt just from thinking of eating it.      

The scent of the Skunkweed was getting stronger and your intensified smell was starting to work against you. The rancid odor of dead skunk slowly overtook everything until that was all you could smell. You felt like puking and turning back with how terrible it was, and pretty soon your eyes started to water as you got even closer; anymore and you would start gagging. Flipping the pages of the grimoire, you read how to get rid of the spell early. Exorcism of Senses, you had to take a purified cloth and rub the oil off of the applied area. 

Good thing you always carry a travel pack of purified cloth with you. Rubbing the oil off of your nose you felt a split second of relief from the putrid smell until it all came rushing back. You thought you had done something wrong until you realized that you were within the five mile radius and you could tell from how strong the smell still was despite not being as bad you figured you were getting close. Good thing you knew just which spell you were gonna use to get this smell away so you could get this herb. The words of an incantation quickly left your lips as you cast this spell as fast as possible because the scent was starting to make you get light headed and that caused your concentration to fade.    

A ring of pure white light appeared in your gathered hands keeping them in front of you as you walked. You managed to absorb the stench and clear a path for you to make your way to the plant. The fumes started to noticeably float in the air with you as you soon were able to see the plant you had to obtain. Ms. Torrent wants three stems and luckily that is exactly how many that grow in the spot. Using the ring to absorb the scent allowed you to be able to take your clippers and snip off three decently sized stems and place them in a glass bottle. Speeding back the way you came you come to a stop when you feel like you shouldn’t be able to smell the Skunkweed anymore. 

And when you realize it’s gone, you instantly fall to the ground, not caring about your knees and hands screaming from the impact, taking in the deepest breath you’ve ever had in your life. Your nose feels as if it’s about to fall off with how much it’s been through in such a short amount of time. Many deep breaths later you find yourself slumped against a tree attempting to stop the dizziness so that you can function. Your eyesight slowly clears up and you start to mumble a very familiar spell, one that you use at least once a day, Hex of Greater Healing. It’s a good thing you practice spells everyday and have a large stamina or else you’d be fucked. 

As the white aura surrounds your body you feel your nose start to hurt less as the spell speeds up the healing process. The scratches on your knees and hands also close themselves as you begin to feel less like shit. You’ve finally collected all of the herbs, you assume this is what Ms. Torrent meant by not killing ourselves. Well you’ve barely escaped that so you should head back now. With a snap of your fingers you start levitating again moderately heading back to the cottage. 

~

Wiping your mouth you rid the area of any excess berry juice. On the way back you decided to get a few bushels of Twin Winberries whilst also stopping by the waterfall to have a drink after the berries. You look at the time and see that only an hour and a half has passed since the last time you checked. You’re still good to leave early as long as Sicheng did his part while you were gone. Making your way to the wooden gate of the cottage you start to walk up the bridge your rucksack alerts whatever is by of your every step. Without thinking you slam the door rather loudly and right after you hear a glass shatter followed by an aggressive ‘Shit!’ 

“Aye yo Sicheng, are you okay up there? I’m back from scavenging. Did you finish dusting and sweeping? I wanna do this inventory and get outta here,” you say as you start to unload your bag. Sicheng’s loud footsteps echo as he basically races down the steps. 

“Why the fuck did you slam the door?!” Not expecting his sudden outburst you turn your head toward him with a partial stank face at his attitude. 

“The fuck crawled up your ass and died while I was gone?” 

“You just made me drop a potion I was checking for inventory in Ms. Torrents office because you for some reason decided to bust in here like you’re the council or some shit.” 

“Damn, my bad it was an accident; you don’t have to be such a dick about it,” you say, raising your hands before getting in a defensive stance. “Not like I could expect anything else from you though, seeing as how you’re always a dick.” 

“Oh so now you’re turning this around on me.” A dry laugh comes out of his mouth as he looks at you incredulously. “Of course little miss perfect can do no wrong, huh?” 

You and Sicheng were so occupied with your argument that you had forgotten all about the spilled potion upstairs. That is until it hit you. 

Standing face to face with Sicheng your body began to feel..different. The more you breathed in, the more you felt it. In the pit of your stomach a hunger unlike something you’ve ever felt before starts to formulate. You thought it was only you feeling different until Sicheng slowly leaned closer towards your face, causing you to lean back a little once you realized just how close he was. You started to feel his warm breath splay across your face heating it more than it already was. “W-What is going on? Do you feel a little different too?” You breathe out on a barely audible whisper. 

You know he heard you when he nodded yes, seemingly just as confused as you were “What exactly was the potion you wasted in Ms. Torrent’s room?” You ask the tall male trying to see what had you feeling so...aroused? The uncomfortable heat you felt between your legs had you attempting to rub them together discreetly. 

But that doesn’t go unnoticed Sicheng’s keen eyes pick up on your subtle movement. A few beats of silence go by, “I-I don’t know and frankly right now I don’t believe I care.” he finally says as his hands land on your waist. 

“Sicheng-”

“Don’t..Don’t say my name right now unless you want something bad to happen.” He says shutting his eyes tightly as if he were trying to keep himself from doing something he might regret. 

“Sicheng.” You bring your hand up to his cheek, slowly caressing it with your thumb, causing his eyes to flutter open. If someone had told you that you would be doing this an hour ago, you would’ve turned them into a frog and flew away cackling into the moon, but as his warm brownish black eyes stared intensely and honestly into yours, causing you to get even more flustered than you already were especially when you started to feel a wetness come about in your underwear, you knew you would be a fool if you didn’t take this shot. Of course, you could feel the tension between you and said male that always lingered, but you knew that you nor him would ever act on it without a shove from an outside force.

“Look at me.” He says making sure he has your full attention. “I’m gonna give you three seconds to stop me but once those are up, you’re mine.” His hand goes up to cup your chin gently as he starts to count. 

3

2

1

“C’mere.” His hands on your waist pull you to him as his mouth lands on yours. Your lips overlap, teeth clashing as all the pent up emotion is now flowing out in waves, coupled with the added intensity of what you’re beginning to assume is a very strong aphrodisiac; you guys just might rip each other apart.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he says, breaking your embrace. His hands move to your thighs, tapping to signal you to jump. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to his lab table. Sitting you down, he starts to kiss you again softer yet somehow still with the same animalistic passion. His tongue slips into your mouth, caressing your tongue in the process. Wet smacks of your lips can be heard all throughout the room and the silky wetness of his tongue on yours has you releasing a hot breath.  

You pull a groan from his mouth as you start to grind against his stiff erection. It's almost as if it’s about to rip through his pants just to get inside you. Your hips gyrate as best as possible against him, coaxing him to join. He removes his lips from yours to kiss down your neck, slightly nipping as he goes. A moan falls from your lips as he kisses your neck, finding your sweet spot and causing the heat in your lower abdomen to increase. 

Your hand travels to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and off of him before you meld your lips together again. Finding their way lower, your hands start to massage his dick and a soft groan leaves his lips. “Suck my dick for me, baby.” And he doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re already on your knees, pulling his pants down. “I don’t think you know many times I’ve wanted to shut this pretty mouth of yours up with my cock,” he says as his member slips out of his underwear, smacking against his abdomen. 

Giving it a few pumps, you immediately put him inside your mouth and get to work. The heat from his dick is so intense you think your tongue will burn as it slips past your lips. You circle your tongue around the head of his cock, flicking the hole on purpose when you feel his hand land on your head. “Can I fuck your mouth, princess?” Looking up at him, you moan at the mere thought of him fucking your mouth as if it was your wet cunt. 

You nod your head to signal yes so quick you fear you may get whiplash as your hand works its way down into your underwear. You start to rub your clit slowly, working yourself up. You’re so wet you swear you would drip on the floor if your bottom was bare. Sicheng’s hands come to your head, grabbing it firmly before he starts to thrust into your mouth, your spit flying everywhere. The sounds you make as his dick hits the back of your throat are all you can hear. 

One of your hands comes up to grip his muscular thigh, fingers digging into the skin in order to steady yourself from his thrusts. “Ohhh fuckkkk, this is good,” he moans, throwing his head back. “Don’t look at me like that, baby, or I’m gonna cum,” he says when he sees that you’re still staring at him. His thrusts stop right before he is about to cum. Refusing to let him stop like that, you take matters into your own hands. Letting go of his thigh, you grab his dick and start to swirl your tongue around his head, flicking under while constricting your cheeks. “Shit, baby stop. I-It’s too much, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that--” He barely gets to finish his sentence before his cum spurts into your mouth. His moans that fill the air and the uncontrollable jerk of his hips cause you to whine under him as you swallow his cum. 

“Damn kitten, I thought I told you to stop. I would punish you but you look too delectable right now,” He says, lifting you up from the ground and putting you on the table. In the process of pulling your pants down he hears your voice. “What was that baby?” 

.

Usually you would have some sort of qualm about asking this but as you steadily intake more and more of the fragrant aphrodisiac all of your inhibitions get thrown out of the window as you practically beg, “Please let me ride your face.” 

You see him stop for a second before a slight blush spreads on his cheeks to his ears. Just the thought of you quivering in ecstasy on his face, getting yourself off, has him almost ready to cum again. Trading places with you, he puts his body on the table, getting comfortable despite his legs hanging off. He looks at you expectantly as he awaits you to sit atop your throne. You finish stripping yourself of your pants and your shirt and bra while you’re at it and move to get on his face. 

With a thigh on each side of his head, you lower yourself onto his face and the reaction is almost instant. One of Sicheng’s hands comes up to grab on your ass and while the other invades your juicy cunt and his tongue lands on your clit. The combined power of his wet muscle and fingers has you seeing stars. His fingers thrust into you, scissoring as he delves deeper inside. His tongue laps up the running juices that fall from your dripping hole as he preps you for his thick cock.  

Your hands shoot to his hair in an instant once he finds your g-spot, body convulsing from the stimulation. “You like that, babygirl?” he asks as his lips wrap around your clit, lightly sucking on the small bud before barely grazing his teeth against it. Your brain is so foggy you don’t even notice how he adds a third finger inside of you, thrusting rapidly as he flexes his wrist. The rough pads of his fingers rub against your g-spot over and over, causing your body to curl in on itself as you grip the hair on his scalp. You feel the climax strike before you know it, whimpers falling from your mouth and you’re just barely able to stay seated upright from the internal attack. 

Your body feels like jello as you try to remove yourself from Sicheng’s face before you suffocate him. “You taste so good kitten, that just about made me want to lick you dry,” he says, wiping the excess juices from his mouth.

A slow smile reaches across your features as you stand up, planting your hands on the table as you bend over, shaking your ass a little as you do. “Fuck me, please,” you ask, staring boldly into Sicheng’s eyes. And it was as if something shifted in the air because before you could ask again he was already behind you, inserting himself. 

It was like finally getting rid of an itch neither of you could reach. Moans and claps filled the room as he thrusts into you like an animal. The smack of his hips against yours feels extravagant. Your tits bounce as if they have a mind of their own. His balls hit your clit adding even more fuel to the fire. If you didn’t know any better you would think you both were in heat with the way he was ramming his cock into your tight snatch. 

“Fuck you’re so tight it’s like a soft vice is gripping my dick- Shit.” You never would’ve thought he could fuck you like this. Maybe it’s the added effect of the Aphrodisiac but you didn’t care either way. Even though deep down you wanted this to be real with everything in you you knew it wasn’t. His hands cup your tits as he lifts your top, half forcing you to stand back-to-chest. His lips land softly on your shoulder as his dick destroys you. The coil in your stomach strings ever-so-tight. The sudden way he bites your shoulder has you clenching onto him and you think that’s the last straw.

“Fuckkkk I’m gonna cum. Do that shit again, baby.” And you wholeheartedly agree with his statement. As you clench again you feel the band in your stomach snap and you’re met with a climax that almost surpasses the one earlier. His cum pours into you and you swear you’re on cloud 9. “Damn I’m still hard.” he spits and before you can think he has you back on the table this time in his lap. 

With his cock still stuffing you, he pulls your legs back behind you both so you’re sort of kneeling forward, and his hands tightly grip your sides as he brings you all the way back down. The sound that rips through your throat has anything within a 10 mile radius running for the hills. You feel the growl deep in his throat rumble against your back. It felt like he impaled you with his cock. He reached places you never knew existed.  

You have never felt so full in your life. Already having been filled with his seed, now he was fucking you again as if it is the last thing he would ever do, you feel like you were going crazy with ecstasy. The way his body feels against yours did nothing to help. The hard planes are a stark contrast with the soft--some would even say plushy--expanse of your body. You don’t even have to move seeing as Sicheng does that for you. He puts his arms to good use as he roughly lifts you up only to smack you against his hips. You knew they would probably be bruised in the morning. 

You feel like you’re gonna pass out from all of this. It’s too much for you to take in all at once, especially after you had already almost had a near death experience earlier. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as you contemplate if you could cum again, the overstimulation starting to kick in as you get even more sensitive. “Sicheng. I-I don’t think I can cum again,” you slur against his ear looking up at the male.

“Last one baby, I know you can do it,” he says looking at you. His thrusts speed up as he tries to hurry and get you both to the end. Your consciousness started to slowly fade as you felt what would be your last orgasm of the night. With a broken moan Sicheng cums one last time as you feel your body start to shake as you experience the most explosive orgasm yet your eyes roll to the back of your head as you fade into black. 

      ~

The feeling of soft sheets feels heavenly against your body. You awaken to find yourself in a bed somewhere unknown. You notice a shirt and underwear covering your body as you sit up and take in your surroundings. At that moment Sicheng walks in from a door in the room. “Oh you’re awake, finally.” Sliding into bed next to you, he wraps his arms around your waist, sticking his head in the crook of your neck. 

Your hands lay on top of his as you slightly turn your head. “Where are we?” you ask, looking at his hair. 

A muffled, “My house,” comes from the boy’s mouth, and you don’t have a chance to react before he pulls you down to lay on him. Looking up at his ceiling, you wonder if you should ask this or not. 

“What does this make us?” Sicheng asks, tightening his grip on you, taking the words right out of your mouth. “Because I actually... really like you, and I want to go out with you.” Turning your head, you look up at the attractive male, intently listening to what he has to say. “I know it may not sound true but I’m serious when I say I really do like you. I have for a while now, I just didn’t have the courage to make a move until we were under the effects of the aphrodisiac.” 

“I-I guess I like you too. At least, I’m willing to date you and see where this goes,” you say, laying your head back on his chest, sighing at the calmness of the moment. “One thing though. I think we should both apologize to each other. We’ve both said some hurtful things and I don’t want to start a relationship with that.” Turning over in his arms you look him in the eyes sitting your chin on his chest. “I’m sorry for saying the things I did. I admit I shouldn’t have said them and they were wrong.” 

“Come here,” he says, lifting you up to kiss your lips. “You’re so cute. I’m sorry as well. I don’t really know anything about you or what you faced, and I shouldn’t have said anything.” You guys are a breaths width away till your lips softly meet again.

“So, uhh, what are we gonna tell Ms. Torrent about the missing bottle of aphrodisiac?” 

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Analysis of the Devil Ending: Who Died and Left Aristotle In Charge of Ethics? (Pt 5)

Hello and welcome back to me over-analyzing everything in Cyberpunk. If you haven’t read my other posts, please read those first! (V’s Mikoshi Poem, Johnny’s Mikoshi Poem, The Sun, New Dawn Fades).

This part took me a lot longer to complete. Not because it was particularly long…it was just painful. Jesus Christ. I hated every second of this ending. That shit hurted.

There were a few shards located at Arasaka’s estate that I chose to skip, as I did not find ant that were unique to the location. The three the game seemed to want to draw your attention to were actually not scattered as shards, they were spoken-word. The only shard I was able to find was a portion of The Odyssey. The other two pieces of literature are In Kyoto, which is quoted to V by the guard to takes her to the hospital room, and (what I believe to be) a reference to Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave. This section is going to be super theoretical. Like, more theoretical than the rest. So bare with me please.

Let’s start easy. This is the poem that the guard quotes at V as he leads her out of the operating room:

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto

(By: Basho, translated by Jane Hirshfield)

Ten words. What could ten words amount to? The saddest goddamn words you’ll ever hear, dammit.  This poem is a feeling more than a concept. Ever feel homesick when you haven’t gone anywhere? Lonely when you’re around other people? That’s V. This was supposed to be a victory, supposed to be what they wanted. But now Johnny’s gone, scorned and betrayed, and no one they calls seems to even be able to give V the time of day. This was supposed to be a victory, their way of going back to the way things were, getting their life back, going home. But we can never go back, can’t ever erase our experiences, what we learn, how we grow. As Misty says, we should not fear change in of itself, but who we might change into. This just goes to show what happens when we betray ourselves by rejecting our own growth: all that’s left is bitterness and sorrow.

The next day when V wakes, you can pick up a shard containing a section from Chapter 8 of The Odyssey. Now, I’m not too familiar with the Odyssey. In fact, I hate the Odyssey. So if anyone wants to jump in here and add something more intelligent, I’m all for it. The Odyssey is the tale of Odysseus, who has been trying for ten long years to return to his wife and son after the Trojan war. Odysseus is basically listening to a bard remind him of all his Trojan War trauma, and begins to weep, at which time time people start questioning what’s up with this guy:

Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,

Imposed by parents in the natal hour?

(For from the natal hour distinctive names,

One common right, the great and lowly claims:)

Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,

And what inhabitants those regions boast?

So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd.

In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;

No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;

Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,

Conscious of every coast and every bay,

That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;

Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,

Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;

Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,

The seas may roll, the tempests may rage in vain,

E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,

Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,

With fury burns; while careless they convey

Promiscuous every guest to every bay,

These ears have heard my royal sire disclouse

A dreadful story, big with future woes;

How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,

Firm rooted in a surge a ship would stand

A monument of wrath; how mound on mound

Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.

But this the gods may frustrate or fulfill,

As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.

But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd

What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;

Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,

Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?

Say why the fate o Troy awaked thy cares,

Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?

Reading this made me feel just how tired V must be. All this fighting, all this war, and for what? Much like Odysseus, V has been through hell and back (literally, depending on how you see it). And it never seems to end. V has been fighting for so long, yet there’s always something more; the tests the doctor gives her are endless, and they’re always being asked to do more, over and over again, with no results or end in sight. Odysseus is teetering on despair; nothing he does seems to do will ever be enough, just like V. The world will just take and take and take. It’s exactly what V’s poem asserts in Mikoshi; the world cannot be fixed, and resistance is futile. You can’t change how corporations rule the world, and as a protestor states on the TV in the hospital room, the rich have no boundaries or morals, and we are powerless to stop them from taking whatever they want. They can take not only our souls, but our bodies, devour them in order to prolong their own lives. Johnny would, of course, disagree. Even a slap in the face to The Man is better than submitting to a corpo-leash, even if that is the easier path. And in fact, he may be right, since it seems taking Hanako’s offer is the conformist path, and the only one that leads to Saburo coming back.

But Johnny isn’t there anymore to walk the rebel path at their side. No more guardian angel to whisper when they it most to never stop fighting.

There’s a lot more we could go into here with the Odyssey; comparing Arasaka to the story of Polyphemus and the cave, talking about themes of passion vs. commitment, yadayadayada. I hate the Odyssey so that can be someone else’s problem tbh.

The final piece is what the doctor asks V to read as one of their tests. Now, on surface-level, this is foreshadowing if V will choose to stay in their body, or be turned into an engram. It’s laughing at them, really, both pitying and mocking the fact that they believe they have a choice, since either way they’re once again at the mercy of the rich and powerful:

“And it was a sight to behold, he said, how a soul would choose its life; sometimes pitiable, sometimes laughable at times wonderful and strange. For in most cases, the souls made their choice according to the habits of a former life.”

I couldn’t find where this was from, or if it was a quote from anything. But googling it does bring up Plato’s Allegory of The Cave, which I thinks tracks pretty well. I found a quote from this chapter of Plato’s The Republic, which is strikingly similar in meaning. For the sake of my sanity, lets assume that this quote is referencing this one from Plato:

“And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the cave.”

If you’re unfamiliar with the allegory of the cave, it’s a philosophical discussion from Plato’s The Republic. It’s about how human perception is limited, and so true knowledge comes from the self via philosophical reasoning. Much like humans imprisoned in a cave with only shadows as their entire world, we cannot imagine the true world outside the cave until we leave to see it for ourselves.  Those who are freed from this limited reasoning have a duty to go back and free others, subjecting them to the full experience of awakening; both the pain and the triumph it entails. V starts out with a limited perception of things; a surface-level world, never stopping to see the bigger picture, until Johnny comes along and encourages them to question the status quo. In all other endings, V accepts this enlightenment. They challenge Arasaka, and try to follow Johnny’s legacy and Stick It To the Man. Yet if they accept Hanako’s offer in an attempt to return to “the habits of a former life,” they are rejecting this new understanding, refusing to leave the cave and live in ignorant bliss. This, I believe, is where Johnny’s true feeling of betrayal comes from: not because he’s being shredded, and not because he thinks V doesn’t know any better. V learned and changed just as much as he did, and this growth was something they were able to gift to one another. Johnny is proud of his change, proud to be someone trusted by V, proud at a second chance not to fuck things up. When V gives him control to go with Rogue to Arasaka, he’s ecstatic to prove himself worthy of that trust, to prove that he’s changed. Yet V, the person who aided in that change, is now actively ignoring and rejecting their own growth, and thus is betraying themselves. By not using their enlightenment to actively oppose the status quo and rebel, they are choosing the side of the oppressor by default.

Some of her last words if you choose not to sign the contract are to Goro, “You have no idea how good it feels to be free.” But the truth is, V is not free, and now they will never be free. By walking the path they have, they are choosing willful ignorance, stubbornly clinging to the darkness of the cave because it is easier to convince oneself that they are not a prisoner at all than it is to leave the comfort of one’s chains. Either way, they are caged, even if the bars the rich and powerful build around her are clear instead of solid. Her so-called freedom (and knowledge) is pure illusion — shadows depicted on a cave wall.

[cjstalkingstarwarsagain]

hi! i’ve recently decided to rewatch all the star wars movies and take notes on them and then,,, share them with you. so if you’re even mildly interested in my star wars opinions, here you go :)

i’ll divide it into a couple categories so,,,

well start with rogue one!!

shit that made me giggle

"oh look, here’s lyra back from the dead. it’s a miracle."

everything K2 says and does. i love him and he’s perfect.

i love the continuous attempts by K2 to appear imperial and how he fails every time. not a single storm trooper or officer ever believes him when he starts running his mouth.

so sorry but bohdi getting his cable caught and trying to shake it loose is such an adorably human moment. makes me giggle every time.

i honestly thought this section would be longer, this movie made me laugh a bunch. 

stuff i don’t like or doesn’t make sense

why does jyn start believing in the rebellion? there’s no indication that she cared before they found her. there’s no real turning point that we can see. she just,,, suddenly is really into this shit. which is strange because the only reason she ever joined was because she was given a non-choice (either help or get put back in prison). i guess i can kinda see how her father dying could have changed her, but we see none of that on the ship after his death. we just get to the rebel council and all of a sudden she’s the poster girl for rebellion.

saw seems really stable at the beginning of the film, so why did he go seemingly crazy and paranoid? it’s probably explained in the novelization but that’s no excuse to just have a character go crazy with really no explanation or backstory.

that being said, a lot of the character development is pretty lacking. i don’t think i’d care about these characters nearly as much if i wasn’t already a star wars fan.

video game cut scene style general tarkin

bor gullet is supposed to make you lose your mind but bohdi was pretty much fine after like,,, a day

how does the death star,,,, move?? like i know it can but has that ever been explained? is it like little thrusters? like the ones you can see in real life to stabilize things in space? there’s nothing i can visually see. i’m not mad about it i just wanna know.

why does saw insist on staying behind? why doesn’t he come and help?? it would have been so easy to just leave but he insists on staying behind and just watching as death inches closer. i think it doesn’t make sense because we know *so little* about his character. give me more on him, make me understand.

since james earl jones is getting older, vader sounds older. was there??? nothing the audio or editing department could have done about that??? not super mad about this one just because darth vader is really cool and i’ll never really complain too much about darth vader screen time.

when the fuck did jyn become a motivational speaker??

my one gripe about pretty much every star wars movie is the sheer number of times people climb through huge shafts and jump around and shit and they’re always *fine*. no way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths in any normal situations.

can someone?? check the science of the hammerhead corvette?? because there’s no gravity or weight in space right?? theoretically all you gotta do is give that star destroyer a bump and it’s spinning out, right?? i know absolutely nothing about space physics but i gotta be right. maybe i’m wrong. i dunno. i’m dumb as rocks. hear that baby girl?? it’s the spare change rattling around in my skull. i got pennies where my brain is.

absolutely no fucking shot cassian survived a blaster hit AND that fall AND climbed out. my belief simply cannot be suspended that much.

DUDE I FORGOT THAT THE DEATH STAR CAN TRAVEL THROUGH HYPERSPACE HOW DOES WORK SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!!

why doesn’t vader just,,, force grab the plans. i know he sees them. why not just force stop the guy running away with them??

final note now that the movie is over. yes, it’s got a lot of issues. the plot is ehhh at times. the trailers don’t match up with the movie shots AT ALL (i wanna know what happened behind the scenes with that). the character development is lacking in many major ways (that has not stopped me from loving these characters though, but that’s the autism talking). but like i’ll say in the "stuff i liked" section, this is such a damn cool movie. i was once talking about it with an older friend of mine and he said seeing rogue one in theaters felt like watching the original trilogy in theaters back in the 70s and 80s and honestly that’s such a compliment. i love this movie, i really do.

just cool shit,,, you know the vibe

DEATH TROOPERS

krennic is probably one of my favorite imperial officers. for some reason he just really sells it for me, the evil and manipulation that borderlines in try hard. and (i mention it more later because you see it more in the "choke on your aspirations" scene) beyond that just the fact that he’s?? a guy. just a dude. at any given moment he could be described as just hanging out. but he’s trying so hard (for whatever reason, we don’t know his evil motivations) to be this big bad evil dude. and it’s just interesting to see someone *trying* to be imperial and *trying* to be evil, as opposed to a tarkin-type character who’s just naturally an asshole.

i love the rogue one main theme. don’t even talk to me. it’s so cool.

it’s cool to see more about the birth of the death star, seeing other people learn about it. sort of realizing the fear and terror that everyone must have been experiencing. especially after being a star wars fan for so long and being like, yeah it’s the death star it’s just a staple of this universe. it reminds me that "oh god this was a planet killer and this was the first time something like that had ever even been heard of".

there’s gorgeous visuals in this movie.

i like the "i’m wanted in 12 systems" guy cameo (did you know his name is cornelius? i googled it)

when the storm trooper asks for papers?? like fuck yeah show me what life is like under imperial rule. give me that shit.

chirrut is so badass i’ll never get over it

"i’m one with the force and the force is with me" i’m eating that shit UP! salivating over the meal in front of me. i really want more exploration of the guardians and jedi worship in general. like gimme that weird funky space religion.

seeing an at-st just walk around a town. i dunno i like that shit.

K2 saying sorry for hitting cassian. i’m so soft on this robot.

"clear of hostiles,,,, ONE HOSTILE"

jyn stepping in front of K2 to protect him after she (not ten minutes ago) made the comment “i’m just afraid they’ll miss you and hit me”. jyn,,, your soft side is showing,,,,

i like the cool machine blaster that baze has. it’s awesome seeing different blaster styles when originally the only variation we really saw was chewie’s cross bow style blaster.

i really wanna see more of baze and cirruit. i wanna know what happened that made baze stop believing. i wanna know how they met. i wanna see them evolve and grow together.

i like that jyn argues that 16 is too young to be a solider (she’s 21 in the movie). i like that she’s mad that she’s young and has been put in a position to protect herself and then later save the galaxy. (for context: luke and leia were 19 in a new hope. anakin is 19 in attack of the clones, ~22 when he became darth vader, and rey is 19 in force awakens. stop putting the fate of the galaxy in the hands of people who are *barely* adults)

the testing of the death star is awesome. love seeing wicked cool space weapons. when it blocks out the sun? ominous as hell fuck yeah.

it’s interesting that baze says cassian doesn’t look like a killer, that "he has the face of a friend", when one of the first things we saw him do was kill a man. i think about that a lot. does that say more about baze’s ability to read people or does it say more about who cassian is deep down, beyond what he’s done to serve the rebellion?

cassian’s relationship with death and killing is very interesting. you could argue that cassian is just as brainwashed and deep in the rebellion as anyone imperial. i really hope it’s something that gets explored in his stand alone show. he mentions he’s lost everything and has been a rebel since he was 6. gimme cassian andor backstory.

"careful not to choke on your aspirations director" is probably some of the most dramatic-anakin-skywalker shit i’ve ever seen vader do

i like seeing rebel infighting. so often it seems there’s always general consensus about what the rebellion wants, but it’s good to see that they don’t always agree on how to rebel.

i love the consistent "found family" rebel alliance shit in these movies. it makes my dick so hard.

ARTOO AND THREEPIO CAMEO FUCK ME UP THOSE ARE MY BOYS

okay i totally get that the empire is evil, i really do, but rogue one (and lots of moments in the sequels) really reminds me how fucking cool some of their shit is. like death troopers? imperial droids like K2? the base on scarif? vader’s castle on mustafar and his bacta tank?? fuck me UP.

i loved hearing the troopers doing their dumb small talk about the T-15s on the beach.

i think ben mendelssohn is perfect for the role of krennic, no notes there. he’s just like?? a guy and he’s doing everything he can to fit into this evil role and he just wants to be like this big bad imperial boy on campus. i don’t know. i don’t have the words right now to express how fuckin awesome he is. i’ll write an essay about it later.

THE AT-AT COMING OUT OF THE MIST?? CHRIST ON A BIKE. LAY ME TO REST. LOVE IT.

fucking love me some female fighter pilots. the women of star wars are so badass. doing justice to my return of the jedi ladies.

i think a whole lot about jyn giving K2 a blaster. the way he takes it and looks at it and holds it so gently. i think that’s the first time a human has trusted him with a blaster since his reprogramming. he seems so appreciative of that trust.

i love seeing the faces of baze and the other rebels when a few of the x-wings show up and take down an at-at. i’m so very soft for the relationship between these rebels. not to be cliche, but the *hope* that they have. it’s so moving. this movie is just so full of that quintessential rebel feeling.

hey so i’m super emotional about the death of K2 okay? because in the novelizations you learn that in the last second k2 had before a full shut down, he ran a simulation where cassian lived and even though he knew it was impossible, it made him happy. FURTHERMORE K2 is very well known and his name is often listed along side jyn’s in terms of talking about the history of the rebellion.

chirrut and baze’s deaths are so important to me. we know they’re best friends, and even though we don’t know how long they’ve been together, they love each other so deeply. chirrut being the path for baze to return to the force? touching. i so wish these dumb force husbands could have had more screen time. baze calling chirrut back?? chirrut telling him to find him in the force?? baze looking to see the man he loves one more time before he dies??reminds me of the silken quote about dying in your best friends arms because it’s all you know. anywho,,, if star wars canon has any mercy then these two lovers are force ghosts together rn. don’t care how you feel or whether you "ship" them or not. love comes in so many forms and they encompass all that love.

terribly sorry but i think about those two star destroyers colliding with the rogue one main theme playing over it every day. it’s,,,,, so,,,, ( ´∀｀)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again BEN MENDELSSOHN??? UH YEAH

krennic watching his weapon (his beautiful, successful weapon) power up and kill him,,, the poetic justice of it all,,,,

any time anyone says "may the force be with you" i dunno maybe it’s my religious trauma but i’m head over heels for that good shit

the star destroyer coming out of hyper space as the rebels are escaping and some of the ships hit the destroyer?? one of my favorite things in the new star wars movies is directors and writers saying "oh this can totally happen" and they DO IT

jyn mentioning earlier in the film that she isn’t used to people sticking around when shit hits the fan and then dying in the arms of cassian?? because he stayed?? and for the first time she has someone??

in that same vein: cassian also says earlier in the film that he lost everything too. his connection with jyn is also important to him, just as important as it is to jyn. they need each other. i can’t remember who on this hellsite said it, but someone mentioned that they hope the stand alone cassian stuff coming out doesn’t make him this swindling playboy who fucks around a bunch. i think having him as more of like?? a mandolorian type character would be really cool. like he’s a rebel assassin: make him one. make him independent and badass and cool and DONT give him a bunch of romantic or sexual interests because then that downplays the clear love he had developing for jyn. again LOVE COMES IN FORMS BEYOND BASIC SHIPS. and there’s a lot of love in star wars.

i’ve said it a million times but vader is so cool and over and over again this movie reminded me that he’s actually so scary. i saw star wars for the first time when i was 6 and i can’t remember my initial reaction to him, but i’ve definitely (like with the death star) been desensitized to the fact that if i was in star wars, darth vader would scare the shit out of me. he’s *scary* and that’s cool. i liked seeing vader effortlessly go fucking mad on these rebels. then you understand why they were so scared in that first scene of a new hope.

no i absolutely will not get over the vader scene. i won’t. his saber turning on. his force abilities. his effortless lightsaber work. the choral music over the scene with the hectic orchestra. don’t touch me i’m emotional.

i loved seeing leia. it touches me so deeply every time.

fuck i love this movie despite all its faults.

if you’ve made it this far, thank you!! i hope you enjoyed. please remember that this is totally a safe space for all star wars opinions and you can feel free to disagree with me! i’d love to hear what some of you thought :))

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a very merry sebmas - day 3

pairing: destroyer!chris x reader

a/n: day 3, this time with chris from destroyer. hope you guys like it xx

holiday divider by @firefly-graphics​

there it was for the first time in eight months, the black citroen beaten outside the diner and he didn’t know if to feel happy or scared.

slapping some crumpled up dollars against the table, he exited the diner, walking straight inside the car where one of his handlers was waiting, feet up on the console of the car

he wanted to yell at his handler, yell at them for lying, for not allowing him any sort of communication with his wife who had just given birth the moment he left. he wanted to lash out at them, quit the undercover assignment and just return home but that would only make things worse.

“excited to speak with the mrs?” “just give me the goddamn phone”

eight months. that’s how long it took for them to allow him to call his Y/N.

it killed him not to see her, not to see his baby daughter, but he was smart enough to know if he tried he’d only be putting them in danger.

as the phone rang he started to think about what to say, what should he say? hey sorry for leaving an hour after you gave birth to our daughter? that is if she even answered 

“hello?” from the other line came the most melodic, beautiful sound in the world “sweetheart? it’s chris, please don’t hang up” “oh my ... chris are you okay? erin hasn’t told me anything and no one will tell me anything. i even tried the burea ...” “yes, sweetheart i’m alright. god, how are you? they’ve only let me talk to you now” “yeah i’m okay. my mother has been coming by quite a lot to help out with diana” “how is she? is she still as beautiful as i remember?”

chris could’ve stayed forever on the phone on her, listening to the love of his love tell him about how his baby girl was doing but his handler had different plans, warning him about the time he had left

“hey sweetheart, i have to go” “when can you call again?” “i don’t know, sweetheart” “do you know if you can make it for christmas?” 

chris sighed, feeling his heart break at the hopeful tone of her voice. he knew the answer, it was a clear no. not only had he missed bringing his daughter home for the first time but now he was also missing her very first christmas

“i don’t think so. i’m sorry, sweetheart” “it’s okay, chris, it’s your job” “i’ll make it up to you, i promise” “just come back home safely please” “i will” “me and baby diana will be waiting for you, chris.” “i love you, sweetheart” “i love you too, chris. stay safe” 

he turned off the burner phone handing it over to his handler who shoved it in his pocket “is there no way i can make it to see my wife on christmas? just for a few hours?” “not until you get the location of the drugs cargo” “c’mon man, i haven’t seen my kid since she was born” “work harder then”

he decided to get off the car before he punched the guy hard enough to knock of all his teeth, closing the door on him with a vice.

arriving back at the home, he sat down on the couch, opening a beer with the corner of a table. he knew he should’ve quit when he could, he should’ve just quit when she told him she was pregnant but he stupidly decided not to and now he was paying the price. 

“you look like shit man, what happened?” vince was one of the main men in the gang, someone chris had been assigned to become friends with. all he wanted now was for him to tell him where the drug shipment was being sent to so he could go home “some guy tried to pick a fight. idiot” “ah man, bottom feeders, always do that” “yeah” “cmon let’s go to lusty i’ll pay you a lap dance” “isn’t the new shipment coming in? last time we weren’t here mark lost his fucking head” “some guys are receiving it in the docks” score.

chris waited until they were in the strip club, something y/n would definitely never hear about, to text erin about it. 

god y/n was never to know the amount of time he was spent in this strip club or she’ll have his head on a platter

as another song was about to begin, his squad broke into the club, heavily armed which let them with no choice but to raise their hands up

erin was to one to pretend to take him in, opening the car door and immediately shutting it “great job, chris. took you long enough.” “bite me, erin.” “i’m guessing you wanna go home to y/n and diana” “i don’t want to hear about any undercover assignments until my daughter’s in college” “deal”

meanwhile y/n was walking around her fully decorated house, showing her baby daughter the baubles hanging from the ceiling

“and that one” she pointed to a big golden one “that one your dad gave to me when we first spend christmas together” baby diana cooed reaching to grab the bauble. y/n smiled at her daughter, kissing her chubby cheeks.

as she was about to hand her the christmas tree topper so she could put it on the tree, she heard someone walk up her door. looking around her opened the door of her under the stairs cupboard, laying diana on her belly there and grabbing one of her old tennis racket. 

as the knob of the door jiggled and the door opened, she readied herself to swing the racket into action 

“it’s me!” chris held his hands up “it’s me, lower the racket”

y/n didn’t even have time to process the fact her husband has a completely different haircut, was skinnier than before and had a few tattoos which definetely weren’t there. all she did was just wrap her around him and hold on tight “you’re here” “yeah, i’m here” “how long are you here?” “as long as you want sweetheart.” “but you said ...” “well, y/n, you better than everyone should know i’m very persuasive” “could’ve been persuasive earlier” “hey where is diana? is she awake?” “she’s in the under the stairs cupboard” “i’m sorry is our daughter harry potter now?” “well i thought you were an intruder and an intruder is not gonna check under the stairs” “why would an intruder come here?” “well christopher you have several enemies and as such i have several plans”

chris laughed, leaning to kiss her, tasting the chapstick she always had on before opening the cupboard, his giggling daughter on her belly. he couldn’t help but immediately pick her up, kissing her cheeks and tummy which only made her giggle more.  “did mumma put you in a little christmas outfit?” she only stared at him, leaning her head which she still could barely hold against his chest “she’s so precious” “i know. we were just about to put the christmas topper on the tree” “let’s do it”

y/n handed the little angel to diana who grabbed it with a might, holding it against her chest as chris walked to the living room where the christmas tree was. 

“wait, i have to film this” y/n grabbed the phone off her jean pocket, holding it front of her face as chris slightly rose diana who just dropped the angel of a tree, which was then fixed by chris.

he was home and he was home to stay. 

[lonestarbabe]

Learning to Speak

Chapter 1: Channeling the Noise

[A03]

Moments of TK in therapy.

“Has anything important happened since your last session?” Melody Janson asks, a warm expression on her face. T.K.’s seen her for a couple of sessions already, but he’s still getting used to her therapy style. He’s been to a lot of therapists in his time, some of them good and some of them bad. He isn’t quite sure where Melody falls yet, but he likes her as a person, which is enough that he’s going to take the sessions semi-seriously, even if his willingness to share about himself is still limited. There are still some things that he can’t say and he’s not sure he will ever be able to say. He’s made peace with the antsiness of the things that go unsaid. The thwarted words bounce on his tongue like it’s a diving board and they are waiting to plunge into the icy waters of hard conversations.

“Depends what you consider important.” He pinches his lips together. He continues when she doesn’t say anything. “I don’t know. It’s been the same mostly. For all the action I experience, my life is boring most of the time.” Boredom is one of the things that makes him want to use, so he craves the moments of action, but there are never enough of them. He could tell her about calls he’d had on the job— like the baby in the tree—but he hadn’t done a whole lot in that rescue. The brunt of the work had been all his dad, ever the hero, and T.K. doesn’t feel like bringing up his dad because Melody always hones in on that topic. As nice as she is, she’s a vulture when it comes to certain discussions, which is probably what he needs, but he doesn’t want to need it. Some days he loves therapy, and other days, he hates it.

“Have you still been feeling restless?”

“Since birth,” he jokes. “I don’t know how to keep myself busy. Time is slower when I am sober. I only used oxy that once, but it feels like it’s sent me a million steps back.” One slip up, and he feels like he’s ruined everything. It feels like things will never be back to normal, and how can they be? He’s moved across the country to a hot and stuffy place that lacks the cool veneer of New York City. He misses Manhattan nights already. He doesn’t need stars. The New York skyline has always been more dazzling, and since he was a kid, it told T.K. stories that the constellations could never tell. New York may not be a natural wonder, but it’s a wonder nevertheless.

“Progress can be slow and isn’t always linear,” Melody reminds him. “How have the urges to use substances been?”

T.K. shifts in his seat. The urges are there, and that’s enough to send a wave of self-hate through T.K. It bothers him that he’ll never rid himself of those urges. He can lessen them, but he can’t stop them from existing. “Okay, I guess. They’ve been more manageable lately. I’m still fucked up, but I always will be.” Melody raises her eyebrows at “fucked-up,” and he knows it’s not because she’s concerned about his foul-mouth. He can tell she’s noting that to talk about later.

“What techniques have you been using to keep them manageable?” He has a whole toolbox of techniques that he’s collected from various stints in therapy, but some of them have become rusty, and it’s taking time to make them usable after neglecting them.

“I’ve been able to notice when I feel on edge more.” It’s like looking at the radar to predict a storm. He was never able to do that before. He’d always ignored that feeling of creeping closer to a cliff until he was staring down at the abyss below and gravity pulled him over.

“Sounds like you’re learning a lot about yourself. When I saw you in our last session, you were very on edge. You said you were feeling antsy about being in Austin. How are you feeling this week about being here?”

“It’s never going to be home, but I’m getting used to this place. I’m not getting lost as much, and it has a weird charm.”

Melody understands what he means immediately. “Yeah, it sure does. Have you been keeping up with thought-behavior logging?” The thought-behavior log is a worksheet that she gives him each week to explore how certain situations can lead to beliefs that produce unhealthy behaviors and negative feelings.

T.K. nods. “I’ve been filling it out, but I don’t know that it’s doing anything.”

“You did say that you were more aware of when you felt anxious. That’s progress. Did you make any helpful observations when you were logging your information? Even something small can be important.”

“That distractions are good for me.” Getting his mind off what was wrong with him is the best way to pretend that he was okay. He isn’t sure if that was an unhealthy way of coping or not. Knowing himself, it probably leaned towards unhealthy.

“What kind of distractions do you mean?”

“Anything I can find.” Anything but that one thing that he shouldn’t do, shouldn’t even think about.

“What’s the first one that comes to mind?” She’s persistent enough that she can get past the resistance that T.K. can’t help but have when some tries to get to know him.

“I met a guy— Carlos— and he’s been keeping me busy enough that I can keep my impulses in check.” He adds, “It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot. Between seeing Carlos and my job, I don’t have too much time to think. I can’t be tempted if I don’t have tempting thoughts. It’s a win-win.” T.K. is enjoying the no-strings relationship he has with Carlos. He’s glad they haven’t decided to complicate things by defining a relationship. He’s not ready for a real relationship. He gets attached too fast and that only leads to heartbreak.

“So these distractions are the main tool you use to stay sober?”

“I guess. It’s been working so far. I haven’t relapsed.” He’s thought about substances— a lot— but he hasn’t acted on those thoughts. He doesn’t let himself be proud of that fact because staying sober never should have been a challenge to begin with.

“I think that would be a good topic to add to our session today. But before we dig too deep into that, I want to know what else you’d like to cover today. Is there anything you think we need to talk about beyond this new relationship and the other distractions you may have going on?”

“It’s not a relationship,” T.K. tells her. “It’s… complicated.” T.K. chuckles to himself. “I’m sure you’ll want to unpack that.” So much to unpack, so little time.

“You’re as much responsible for our agenda as I am.” He doesn’t want that responsibility. He wants someone to shove him through this process as quickly as possible so that he doesn’t have to think about it anymore, but Melody has explained how important it is that he takes an active role in the process, so he’s trying to meet her halfway.

“I guess we can add it. It can’t hurt.”

“Okay, T.K.,” she says, “I think we should also touch on how you’ve been feeling about your sobriety.”

“We can talk about it, but I’m feeling fine.” He’s not happy, but it’s not like he’s ready to swallow a handful of pills— again. He wants to be sober. He wants to be alive. I’m good.

“You seem apathetic about most of these topics,” Melody observes. “Why do you think that is?”

“It’s just been that kind of week.” Work’s been hard. He isn’t sure what to think of his new coworkers yet. He likes them, but he doesn’t know them yet. It doesn’t take long for firefighters to bond with how much time they spend together, but T.K. is overwhelmed with having to basically reset his whole life and try to make sense of his new situation.

“What kind of week is that?” Therapy is a lot of questions, so many questions.

“The kind where I don’t want to think.” He wants to clear his mind and forget he exists because that’s easier than having to sort through the influx of feelings that he has. It’s the perfect kind of mood for substances to creep in and screw everything up.

“I see. Is something weighing on your mind?”

T.K. shrugs both shoulders. “Just the usual stuff. Work, getting used to this crazy place. I haven’t slept well.”

“Have you been having trouble adjusting?”

“It’s hard not knowing anyone. I’m good with people, so I can fit in, but it’s still hard. ” He puts on a big smile and acts like his normal goofy self and that seems to endear other people enough, but it doesn’t bring them too close. He’s not sure if he’s ready to get too close.

“That’s something we can explore some more because you’ve expressed in past sessions feeling like you don’t have a good support system here in Austin.”

“Another item on the agenda?”

She nods, a pleasant look on her face. “Does what we have sound like enough?”

“We’ve got a lot on the agenda,” T.K. says with a sigh. “So, yeah, sounds like enough.”

“You always rise to the challenge. Remember that we can always be flexible to suit your needs, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Let me ask, what is the most important of these items for you, T.K.?”

“Let’s start with the distraction thing,” T.K. tells her because he’s not sure where he wants to begin and the first thing on the list seems easy enough. Might as well just knock them out in order. “Or the guy thing. They’re pretty much the same topic.” His heart gets fluttery when he thinks of Carlos, and he’s not sure if it’s in a bad way or a good one.

“Okay, the male distraction. Do you want to tell me about him?”

“His name is Carlos. I met him on a call.”

“What do you like about him?” He’s nice to me. He has the best smile. He was the first person who made me forget that I was an outsider in Austin.

“I think the sex might be better than drugs.” He says the sex part before thinking about it, and then he feels weird because he’s talking about his sex life with a woman he barely knows. He’s always been pretty open about that kind of thing, a trait he inherited from his parents, but it’s different in a clinical setting. The faded, geometrically-patterned chair feels stiff under him like it’s judging him.

Melody’s face doesn’t change from neutral. “What about sex is satisfying to you?” Everything. T.K. doesn’t really believe that sex is better than drugs, but it is close and it helps him to pretend that it is better than drugs. Sex is a release. It allows him to escape his head for a while and give in to his carnal urges. “Like I said, it’s a distraction.”

“What does it distract you from?” Everything.

“If I think about it too hard, that defeats the purpose of distraction, doesn’t it?” He doesn’t like to use the words addict or drugs or substances, which probably doesn’t bode well when drugs are what got him in therapy in the first place, but at the end of the day, the drugs are a symptom of the feelings he has that he can’t deal with. Those stiff words hang in the air and then he keeps thinking about them, and if he thinks about them, he figures that he’ll give in eventually, and he doesn’t want to give in. He doesn’t want to disappoint his dad, lose his job, or hurt anyone else. He doesn’t care much about himself, but the way his addiction impacts other people holds him back when he’s on the edge between resiting and relapsing. Sometimes, it is enough. Other times, it is not.

“What do you think will happen if you talk about it?”

“I’ll lose control?” Control— that sounds deep and pathological, and therapists like that, right? He’d had a therapist who had been obsessed with the control thing, so he ran with the idea, thinking it was something he could hurry Melody through. His real answer is somewhere behind a wall in his mind that he doesn’t want to peak through let alone tear down. He keeps a lot behind that wall, just beyond the point of easy access. It’s a cluttered wasteland, but with the wall, he doesn’t have to look at the mess of life. He can pretend it’s not there, and if he can’t easily access it, he won’t think about it.

“Lose control of what?” she pushes him.

“Just in general,” T.K. tries.

“What is it about control that alarms you so much?” she asks again, and the question is oddly unsettling as flashes of him being high or drunk rush through his mind. He brought this up, and now he’s regretting the can of worms he’s popped open thinking it was just a normal can. He suddenly and ironically feels like he’s lost control of this line of thought. He should have thought this through, but he didn’t. That’s what he’s always done; he didn’t look before he leaped. He’s not afraid of losing control, he realizes with dread. He’s afraid of taking control. Maybe Dr. Bundting wasn’t such a quack about this control thing after all.  There’s something alluring about spiraling. He disarms himself so that no one can do it for him. He hands his life over to substances so that he doesn’t have to take the reigns and navigate through it himself.

T.K. crosses his arms over his chest. “No one likes to lose control.” Except for freaks like me. T.K. feels his chest clench, and his heart is pounding.

“The question seems to bother you. Was there something I said that made you uncomfortable?”

“It’s complicated.” Complicated is the way T.K.’s life works. Nothing is clear-cut, and it makes deciding what the fuck he is doing with his life eight million times harder.

“Can you explain what makes it so complicated?”

“It’s weird,” he tries, but Melody has never been stopped by that excuse before, so he’s not sure why he thinks it will work now.

“Austin is weird,” Melody says with a reassuring smile. “We like weird here.”

T.K. takes a breath. “I used to lose control all the time, and it didn’t bother me. I liked being out of my mind and not caring about anything.”

“And how does it make you feel about yourself when you’re in that state of mind?”

He swallows. “Like I’m defective.” He adds a laugh so it doesn’t sound so pathetic. “But also like I’m alive. It takes away the worries for a while.” He shakes his head. “But, mostly defective.”

“You remember how we talked about core beliefs?”

T.K. rolls his eyes. “I’ve been hearing that word for years.”

“Then you probably know where I am going with this. What makes you think you’re defective?”

“I can’t do things that normal people can.”

“What can’t you do?”

“Handle things in a normal way. When anything goes wrong, I spin out.”

“You’ve been managing your cravings. That doesn’t seem like spinning out to me.”

“It’s more of a feeling, and then the feeling is what makes me want to do things that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you define what ‘spinning out’ means to you?” Wanting to give in and wreck my life just to escape my head for a while.

“I go crazy. My mind starts to race, and before I can think better of it, I’m doing something dumb.” He hates to think about all the stupid things he’s done just because he doesn’t have the mental clarity to resist those impulsive urges.

“What kind of ‘dumb’ actions are you referring to?”

“Relapsing, fighting, fucking up opportunities— those kinds of things.”

“You called those actions dumb, so can you tell me what do those actions have to do with your intelligence?” Because I am an idiot who can’t control himself.

“Because I should know better than to do them. That’s pretty dumb, right?”

“You seem to use that kind of language a lot about yourself. Do you think addiction or mental illness makes someone dumb?”

“I know it makes me dumb.” My mistakes could have all been avoided if I only used my head.

“Okay, so your addiction makes you feel dumb, but if you saw my other patients behaving because of their illnesses, would you call them dumb? Or did your dad’s PTSD, for example, make him dumb?”

“He went through a lot, so it makes sense that he would react in the way he did. He wasn’t acting dumb, not really. He was just trying to survive after a shitty situation put his life in danger.”

“And what’s different about you? When you talk about your dad, you blame the circumstances, but when you talk about yourself, you attack your core characteristics.”

“I made choices. That’s what created his problems. My dad was powerless. Something happened to him while I happened to me.”

“I’m all for taking accountability, but don’t you think you’re showing yourself none of the mercy that you offer your dad or other important people in your life?”

“He deserves that.” I don’t.

“What has he done to deserve that? You’ve talked about how his actions hurt you, so why do you forgive him for those actions that hurt you but not your own actions that hurt you?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. He never meant to hurt you.”

“Did you mean to hurt yourself?” she prods.

“I tried to…” T.K. trailed off. “I nearly died.”

“If you got to choose how you feel, would you choose to hurt?”

“No. Who would?”

“So, that brings me back to the question, why can you forgive others more easily than yourself.”

“It hurts me more not to forgive him.”

“Does it not hurt you more to not forgive yourself?”

“Because maybe he’s not perfect, but I’ve burdened him with my issues, so I owe him forgiveness. It’s not his fault that I’m overly sensitive or whatever. He made mistakes.” But I am the mistake. “But he’s a hero, and the hero’s kid always has to make room for the heroics, but I was always too selfish to see that..” T.K. doesn’t mention how he still has a kernel of resentment for Owen, one that he has never been able to forgive away.

“What about you? You save people every day. Aren’t you a hero? If being a hero is why you are merciful with your dad, shouldn’t you extend that to yourself?”

“Yeah, but it’s my job to save people, and I haven’t sacrificed anything to help others. My dad lost his whole crew on 9/11. That’s a sacrifice.” What about my loss? the childish part of him wants to say, but he’s learned that that part of him is the one that drives him further from his dad. When he lets his inner child say his piece, the tension between T.K. and Owen smothers any goodwill they’ve forced into existence through years of close proximity and the common goal of saving other people’s lives.

“It takes sacrifice to be a hero?”

“Yeah, if you don’t lose anything from doing something, it’s not a big deal.”

“You sacrificed many moments with your Dad. You sacrifice time and energy at your job. Wouldn’t that make you a hero too under your definition?”

“It’s not like I had a choice.”

“Why not?”

“Firefighting was the only thing I’ve ever considered.”

“Okay, and why’s that?”

“Because I knew it was what I wanted.” He didn’t need to think. While other kids his age had been debating what they wanted to be, he never had to make that grueling decision. He just knew. My fate had been decided for me already, and it was nice not to have to think about what kind of future I wanted. It had always been written for me.

“What was it that you wanted?” A dad.

“To be like my dad.”

“And are you like him?”

“Not in any of the good ways.” T.K.’s sure that he and Owen are both headstrong. They’re both passionate and like grand gestures. T.K. knows that he’s a lot like his Dad but not in the ways that would make him proud.

“In what ways aren’t you like him?”

“Well, for one, I’m constantly making bad decisions. I nearly died before I came here, remember? I was so dumb. What was I trying to accomplish by nearly killing myself?”

“You’re back to using the word ‘dumb.’ Do you know the early meaning of dumb?”

“Probably not,” T.K. admits.

“In Old English, it referred to someone who was mute.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And people conflated the inability to speak with the lack of intelligence. Dumb was a word used to degrade and mock those who couldn’t speak because other people didn’t understand muteness”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“While the behaviors that result because of your mental illness may feel dumb as in stupid, you’re conflating your inability to speak with the lack of intelligence. Mental illness doesn’t rob you of your intelligence; it robs you of your ability to speak and communicate your feelings. Your ‘dumb’ behaviors are attempts at communication, but in these sessions, we figure out how you can break your silence.

“So I’m learning how to talk to people?”

“Not just how to talk to people but also how to talk to yourself. Your self-dialogue fuels your feelings and behaviors, so if we can change that dialogue, we can change your experiences with the world. What I want to accomplish with you goes beyond just talking.  What I’m teaching you is how to communicate healthily, which can come in more forms than just verbal language. There are lots of ways to speak, and what you need to do is find the ones that work for you.” Melody’s words linger with T.K. as he carries on the session, and he wonders if happiness is that easy. Is it nothing more than learning to speak?

[cherry3point14]

What Does The Fox Say?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Crack. Orgy. Sex Party. Don’t let your nethers tingle, it’s barely flirting. SYNONYMS. Word Count: 2,300ish.   Summary/Prompt: There’s a case. Witches or something, and they’re killing people, specifically furries, maybe. As such one Dean Winchester goes to a furry sex party to look for clues... A/N: Written for @kalesrebellion​ “Bring On the Giggles” challenge. I think hope my synonyms for this challenge will be fairly obvious. Also, shoutout to @winchesters-meaty-feast​ who entertained my panic as this deadline loomed and pretty much talked me into birthing this ~thing. Sidenote - no disrespect to the furries who walk among us. It’s all exaggerated crack!fic. Peace and love. Yiffy on friends.

From the outside, it looks like any other two-story townhouse. There’s a car parked out front, normal mailbox, the works. Regular suburban home. The first clue that something out of the ordinary is happening inside—where the ordinary is mom, dad, and two-point four ankle-biters having dinner—is the windows. They’re all covered, curtains or blinds, it doesn’t matter. This is what it looks like when humans try to cover their tracks. Monsters choose places that are already deserted and forgotten. Humans hide in plain sight and end up sticking out like a sore thumb. Plus Dean has spent all day talking to furries about this house. Yeah, that’s the biggest clue, not the damn curtains. He’s had multiple lectures, not only from Sam but the furries, people, themselves. It’s not all about porn. They’d told him adamantly. Showed him drawings and all these things they’d made each other, and pictures from their conventions. We’re not all perverts! They could say it until they were blue in the face (they had), but Dean’s standing here looking at this house, knowing what’s inside, and it’s hard to believe the furries-are-innocent propaganda. It’s even harder to believe he’s walking in there of his own free will. The things he’ll do to save lives. Sam told him to change because “Freeze, FBI” might not go down well at this particular house party. What’s he supposed to change into? A Halloween costume? That suggestion earned him yet another talk about respecting people’s interests. Whatever. He gets it, they don’t all have full fursuit things and even the ones that do, don’t generally fuck in them, and really? Is it really fucking necessary that he knows this much about furries? At least he can put on a plain black tee and some jeans and Sam only half presses his lips together in disapproval. What is his brother expecting him to wear to a furry sex party? Cat ears? (Dean is offended by the implication even if Sam didn't say it out loud). Eventually, shuffling his feet, he makes it to the door and knocks. He doesn’t want to be here but Sam’s working another lead on the other side of town at a D&D meet up. All jokes about dungeons aside, Dean would have given up his music privileges all the way back to Kansas to switch places. Once again, scissors bit him in the ass. The door opens a few inches, enough to see, hand to god, a guy in white rabbit-ish body paint. He raises his eyebrows in Dean’s direction like he’s asking for something without saying the words. The guy definitely doesn’t twitch his nose and it definitely doesn’t remind Dean of that bunny from Bambi. Oh shit. The password. Right, because that was how you made a gathering like this more legit and less embarrassing. Dean’s throat tightens like the words don’t want to come out, or like he doesn’t want them to exist, “Yiffy Ki Yay.” Furry sons of bitches have even ruined Die Hard. The guy nods and pulls the door open enough to let Dean slide in, but not reveal too much of the clandestine activities to the outside world. Not that anyone on Maple Avenue is looking into this particular door. Either the neighbors know better or they don’t care. Although now that he’s inside Dean can see his nameless host is also wearing tall, white ears and furry cuffs on his ankles and wrists. The first of what, Dean assumes, will be many red flags that he should leave. Not that he heeds the warning. “First time?” The rabbit asks while Dean attempts to scan as much as he can see without a slack jaw. “Yeah,” he breathes out. Dean has been around the block. He’s seen the inside of more than just strip clubs. His number one use of the Internet is porn, his second? More porn. This is something else. He’s not judging, well, he's trying not to judge and failing miserably. These people aren’t hurting anyone though. In fact, someone might be trying to hurt them. Or the D&D players. They were still on the fence about how the groups were linked beside the weird deaths. Granted some of this party seems very vanilla from what he can see. He catches a glimpse of the dining room, which has been cleared of most of its furniture, and there’s your everyday orgy of mangled limbs. Those limbs happen to be a little furrier than normal is all. Thankfully not everyone is dressed as an animal. Not that anybody will be telling Sam that he was right. Some people are dotted around watching, or drinking like the sex isn’t happening, and some of the people getting involved are in plain clothes. Or, naked but not wearing any sort of animal accessory. At first glance, there’s a part of Dean that thinks he can appreciate the hedonism of it, without being bogged down by the fact that they're all cosplaying as goddamn animals. Animal enthusiasts, he corrects in his head before Sam telepathically delivers a bitch face from across town. And then he’s walking through the kitchen and there are two people nuzzling each other. People might not be the right word because they’re dressed as cats. Holding each other and stretching and bending their limbs. All feline movements and what he thinks is a purring noise, but he can’t confirm or deny because of the music coming from the cheap speakers on the counter. It might be sweet if it wasn’t in the middle of a sex party. Yeah, this is still going to take some getting used to. The rabbit is yammering, mentioning ground rules that Dean is only half listening to while he tries not to stare at the cats. He’s listening enough to follow the rules but actually, he can’t bring himself to look away from the most PC thing happening in the joint. “Did you get that because I heard the door…?” This time Floppy speaks with enough urgency that Dean snaps his focus back to the white rabbit. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll-” he wants to say ‘mingle’ like it’s a seventies swingers party and his biggest concern is where his car keys are. He licks his dry lips and they still feel like sandpaper, “-look around.” He does need to look around, talk to people, do his job. That’s why he’s here feeling like the spare dick at a fucking contest. Dean knows his limits though and before he investigates he's gonna need a beer.  Once he’s got a bottle in his hand, which he got from the fridge because he doesn’t trust anything that was sitting on any surface, even unopened, he starts climbing the stairs. The tinny music, the sound of bodies slapping against each other, and the low din of people talking like normal adults all fade with each step until he’s at the top. Practically not at a furry orgy anymore. Except it’s a new horrific game now. What’s behind door number one? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers Whiskers going on about the rules of the rooms. Lock up if you want privacy. Unlocked and shut means viewers welcome. Open doors are an invitation to play. That’s the word Thumper had used, play. The first door is locked. He skips the second because he can hear what's going on inside and even if he was in the mood to creep (he’s not), you don't walk in on the money shot. The third room is a bathroom, a stark reminder he's in a house that people live in. The fourth door he tries is blissfully empty. It looks like a guest room. Walls that are basic beige and nothing identifying. Then he sits on the bed and presses his back into the wall. He realizes this bed has probably been used for the activities he’s already seen tonight. Out of sight, out of mind. Dean takes out his phone and stares, annoyed, at the screen. Sam hasn’t messaged him, so the case isn’t solved and he doesn’t have an excuse to leave. He takes a swig of his beer and types with his free hand, trying to make an excuse. Find anything yet? Another long drag while he waits, forcing the drink down his throat in the hopes of some small semblance of dutch courage. Or in the hopes that everything is solved, so he can go back to the motel and beat his meat to hentai like a normal person. No, but this is actually really interesting. You? Dean’s fingers twitch wanting nothing more than to throw the phone against a wall. If he wasn’t obligated to text back to illustrate that he’s still alive then he might leave Sam high and dry. As it is his reply is short and simple. Nothing. He feels no need to mention that he hasn’t actually looked yet. Dean puts his phone away and throws his head back against the wall at the exact moment the door opens. She stumbles in with the ghost of a giggle on her lips. He’s expecting there to be someone following her considering the party he’s attending. Two people blundering into a room looking for a place to get some privacy. Except she’s alone and she’s not concerned to find him alone either. Her eyes widen a little but her smile is soft, “sorry, you’re not waiting on someone are you?” “Me?” He asks, concerned that he has picked up some paraphernalia along the way. Anything that might suggest he’s a part of this. She continues to wait for an answer to her question instead of answering his. “No, Nah. Just taking a breather.” “Thank god, me too.” She blows out a relieved puff of air before shutting the door behind her. In doing so she flashes him her tail. She’s a fox. Or some version of a fox. She hasn’t gone as far as body paint. Her outfit almost seems costumey rather than serious. It’s this orange mini dress—if it could be called a dress for how little it leaves to his imagination—with a bushy, foxtail attached. He hadn’t noticed her ears immediately, but now he’s seen them, there they are. Ginger and pointed on top of her head, and when she turns back to him he finally notices the little, black nose she has painted on. She sits down next to him, scoots herself on top of the sheets making them bunch under her. She doesn’t seem to care about him having dibs over the bed or room and it only takes a few seconds for him to not care either. In this close proximity, inches apart, he doesn’t see a fox, even if she is definitely dressed up as a fox. He sees bare legs crossed at the ankle, her dress fighting to contain her cleavage and the sheen of her skin from dancing. She’s holding a red solo cup, he assumes half full of alcohol considering the pink flushing her cheeks. “I’m going to take a guess,” she leans until her shoulder is pressed against his arm, “you’re either a first-timer or you’re lost.” Dean laughs because he feels lost even if his cover is supposed to be the former. “First time, that obvious, huh? Thanks for pointing it out. Real considerate of you.” She bites her lip enough to get him looking at her mouth. Thinking about her mouth. “Wolf?” “What?” “I get it, first-timers are still trying to be normal, but the dark colors and the brooding loner thing you have going on in here. A wolf missing his pack?” She brings her knees up and bends her legs under herself while she guesses. Twists her body in his direction. He can’t tell if she’s joking. It sounds half ridiculous and makes him think of the kind of wolves he hunts. Dean lies anyway, “ding ding. Tell the woman what she’s won. Or do you prefer..?” Dean waves a hand to her everything fox related as if he might seriously start using ‘fox’ instead of ‘woman’. His gesturing hand lands on her waist while the other takes another swig from his brown bottle. “‘S fine. We’re all still people underneath. I’ve got a job and everything.” She rolls her shoulders like she’s showing off for being employed, which shuffles her whole body half an inch closer to his until her knees are touching his thigh. She’s facing him, his arm still lazily, half wrapped around her as she raises her cup to her lips. “Oh yeah, what do you do, sweetheart?” He lets the syrup fall from his mouth because foxes like honey.

She laughs, the sound tinkles in the space between them. “I’m a diner chef. Nothing exciting unless you like to eat?” His tongue peeks out between his teeth, his lips smirking suggestively. “I’ve been known to enjoy a-,” Dean's eyes flick down her body to where her dress is stretching over her thighs, and then back to her face, “fur burger.” Nowhere else on the fucking planet would he get away with saying that. Only at a furry sex party. She doesn’t just smile at his line though, she hums, pleased he’s playing along, and slides a hand along the outer hem of his jeans. Fingers slowly crawling up his leg and tracing the denim.

One blink and the air is thicker, heavier, and Dean doesn’t give a shit when it happened.

Her eyes flash playfully as she finishes her drink. “Mmm, the only way to make sure a burger is done is a good thrust of a meat thermometer.” 

5eva tags: @divadinag​ @darthdeziewok​ @fluentinfiction​ @witch-of-letters​ @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog​​ @magnitude101999​ @alexwinchester23​ @jesseswartzwelder​ Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles​ @akshi8278​ @erins-culinary-service​ @bloodydaydreamer​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @ellewritesfix05​

[rexcoatlarchive]

Welcome to chaldea

Time to explore how the hell Rex even got to chaldea in the first place.

*in a suburban home somewhere in Kansas, laying in his bed was the man who would eventually be thrown into some magical bs*

*phone rings*

Me: *picking up the phone* hola?

Gramps: Hola mijo!

Me: oh hey gramps

Gramps: how are doing today?

Me: I'm fine, and you?

Gramps: bien , muy bien. Hey, you think you can come over? It's kind of important.

Me: uh sure I guess I could.

Gramps: and make sure you come alone

Me: oh... OK.

*later on right outside a pretty dingy looking house*

Me: *driving up to the building*

Me: here we are. Wonder what he needs

*enters the house*

Me: gramps! You in here?!

Gramps: *from another room* over here mijo!

*Rex walks to a room that looks a bit like an office. And there at a desk sat an older kinda short looking Mexican man*

Rex: hey Gramps. You wanted to see me?

Gramps: si mijo! There's something I need to tell you about.

Me: uh sure thing, what is it?

Gramps: ...you ever heard of magic mijo?

Me: *already concerned* uh.... yeah.

Gramps: you think it's all just nonsense and fairy tails don't you?

Me: well all evidence I and the world at large have seen points towards it being bs, yeah.

Gramps: well what if I told you it was all true, and all magic users have been keeping it a secret from the rest of the world?

Me: what like Harry Potter? Well first off I'd be concerned about your mental health somewhat.

Gramps: hahaha, yeah I imagine that's an appropriate reaction. But what if I showed you this *just fucking makes fire appear out of his hands*

Me: .....well then. Is it real?

Gramps: course it's real. Try to feel it

Me: *reaches hand out, it's actually warm* ...how the fuck?

Gramps: like I said, magic! Well we call it thamaturgy, we don't consider it true magic.

Me: then wtf is true magic?

Gramps: the stuff of dreams! The things some true magicians can do are beyond imagination and even comprehension!

Me: well then... why are you telling me all this now? Who else knows?

Gramps: no one else in the family. I've kept this a secret for ages.

Me: ages?! How old are you?

Gramps: oof! I don't even remember! But I will say my earliest memory is of some Spanish fools asking about a golden city. And even then I wasn't exactly a spring chicken

Me: *thinking about how old that could be* holy... so you can keep yourself young with magic?

Gramps: yeah, most mages don't but a few dabble in it.

Me: why keep it a secret for so long? And why start talking now?

Gramps: well to answer your first question, it's because most of mage culture is horrible and lacks morality almost entirely.

Me: ...huh

Gramps: and almost all mages are fools, refusing to adapt with the times. They're obsessed with the old ways, it can get downright pathetic honestly!

Me: interesting... again why now?

Gramps: well I figure it's time to stop extending my life so damn much and open the way for the next generation, as in you!

Me: Me?! You want me start doing magic?

Gramps: yup!

Me: why me? Why not dad or mom or someone?

Gramps: because I've been specifically getting you ready for this. Your magical circuits are the best in the family, the only ones that compare to mine.

Me: ...my what?

Gramps: they're called magical circuits. It's the part of the body that allows people to practice thamaturgy in the first place.

Me: so it's genetic?

Gramps: yeah, almost every generation after me had subpar circuits. Slowly over the generations I did small experiments to ensure that eventually I will have a proper successor. Nothing too bad, no one would've noticed. And you are the culmination of that work.

Me: feels really weird to be called the culmination of your work.

Gramps: yeah, that's an understandable reaction. Don't worry, I never needed to do anything to you. You were born ready to go. I just needed to wait until you were old enough.

Me: alright. So how do we start this? You start teaching me how to do this?

Gramps: early on I did have that in mind, but then a friend of mine starting working on something that I think would be better. You see, in the world of magecraft I'm actually kinda infamous. I'm a bit of a black sheep compared to the rest of magus society. Instead of focusing on 1 type of magecraft I decided to travel all around and learn as much as I could.

Me: so you're a bit of a jack of all trades?

Gramps: yeah, that's a good way to put it. I made many friends and enemies in my travels. And many want to know all the secrets I have, because I know forms of magecraft that many would love to get their hands on. For example, I'm ages old but don't look a day over 80 right?

Me: yeah.

Gramps: usually for other mages to achieve this many sacrifices are made, like sanity or their bodies start to deteriorate. But not me! I have access to magecraft that's long since died out.

Me: damn

Gramps: and all those secret will go to you. Or atleast most that I can give. And automatically once I die, all my enemies will be your enemies.

Me: WHAT!?

Gramps: but! Then I heard a friend of mine, from the animusphere family started working on something called the Chaldea security organization. And he needs mages, I talked to him and ensured that you'll join. And in return he'll ensure no one can get to you.

Me: so I'll go their to learn instead of you?

Gramps: yup! Soon enough I'll transfer my crest, which what'll you need to get started, you'll receive a phone call to confirm your participation. Then eventually someone will come get you, and you'll get started from there.

Me: so it's like a job? And is it OK for them to get someone so new to this?

Gramps: they just need bodies, and yeah it's basically a job. But you'll be staying there. So I'm basically forcing you to finally be independent and move out of your parent's home

Me: I'm only 20, it's not that bad.

Gramps: still, this has been set in motion. Are you prepared for what's coming?

Me: not even remotely! But I have very little say do I?

Gramps: nope!

*eventually after a few days, Gramps transfered his crest over to Rex. Eventually Gramps passes, and Rex just waited*

*phone rings*

Me: hello?

*a female voice is heard*

Olga: hello, this is the director of the chaldea security organization. I have a note from the previous director to call this number on this day. Are you the successor of that... unique magus who passed recently?

Me: yes I am.

Olga: and am I correct to assume that you've been informed of your involuntary recruitment into this organization?

Me: yup

Olga: ok, I'm not going to force you to join but I will say it is in your best interest to join. Once other magus find out about you, and they will, you will likely not be safe.

Me: yeah, he made that clear. I've already prepared myself to join

Olga: excellent, a car will be coming tomorrow to take you to a plane. From there you'll be taken here.

Me: alright then. Is that it?

Olga: that's all, see you soon enough

*the phone is hung up*

Me: kind of annoying being thrown into this. But from what I've heard it could be worse. *looks at an envelope left by gramps*

*on the envelope it says "don't open until you get there, and make sure to bring the feather"*

Me: *holding said feather* he gave me this thing ages ago. So I guess this was him getting me ready for all this? Wth does a feather have to do with magic anyways?

*the next day on the plane*

*Rex is seated next to a pair of twins*

Rikka: *trying to start conversation* hey there!

Me: hi

Rikka: what's your name?

Me: you can call me Rex

Rikka: well hey there Rex! You can call me Rikka, and this is my brother Rikko!

Rikko: *is sleeping*

Rikka: *elbows him* wake up bro!

Rikko: huh? What?

Rikka: so why'd you decide to join up?

Me: was kinda forced into this by gramps

Rikka: your grandpa forced you to join?

Me: oh, he's not actually my grandpa. Everyone in my family just called him that because he's older. And yeah I was forced essentially, because a lot of magus don't like him apparently. And as his successor I'm apparently going to have a target on my back. But he said the director would promise my safety if I joined so... yeah

Rikka: well that's kind of messed up! But that's mage culture for ya!

Me: man every time I hear about mage culture, it's non-stop misery and dread

Rikka: do you not know much about mage culture?

Me: no! Just a month ago, magic would've been considered fairy tale nonsense to me! But now I'm being thrown into something I barely understand to stay safe from who knows what!

Rikko: that's very weird. Normally it's driven into your head from birth

Me: but not me! Even the rest of my family knew nothing until I showed them some of the basic spells gramps taught me! He's left me with very little while throwing me into this crazy world. It's kind of weird because he was always that cool relative that was a blast whenever he visited! But now he's the man who threw me into this magic hell and then died! All he's left me with is this journal to figure out basic magecraft and this bite and feather

Rikko: feather? Why the feather?

Me: good question. The note might explain but it says to wait until we get there.

Rikka: well when you do open it can you tell us?

Me: sure I guess

Me: but I've gone on long enough, why are you guys joining?

Rikko: well we just needed some work and independence, and our parents heard about this place and said we should join up

Me: that's it?

Rikka: yup!

Me: huh, ok then

*eventually once at chaldea and after the huge presentation at the beginning the 3 are walking towards their rooms*

Me: man you two kept falling asleep, if I weren't there to keep you guys awake who knows how the director would've reacted. And also thankfully that Mash girl told us the right way to go to our rooms

Rikka: *still sleepy* yeah, thanks for that. And thanks Mash

Rikko: *also sleepy* so where's our rooms anyways?

Me: *stopping at a door* right here it seems

Rikka: cool! Let's get in to read your note already!

Me: don't you want to get into your rooms first?

Rikka: that can wait! I'm too curious right now!

Me: alright then

*the door opens and sitting on the bed is a man with long red hair tied in a pony tail is seen eating cake, along with him is a dark skinned woman with dark purple hair*

Me: uh...

Rikka: hey there?

Rikko: did you get the wrong room?

Me: no... it says right on the paper

*the two on the bed stand up*

Romani: oh sorry about that we were just kind of taking a quick break, this room had been empty for so long we just used it to hang out.

Me: huh... well sorry but I've been assigned to this room.

Rikka: who are you guys anyway?

Romani: I'm Romani Archaman, the head doctor around here though most people call me Dr. Roman. And this lovely woman is my wife, and assistant

Mrs. Archaman: hello there

Me: oh the head doctor huh? Interesting

Rikko: nice to meet you doc

Rikka: ...you guys both have fluffy hair

Roman: yeah we get that a lot

Mrs. Archaman: mostly me though. People always want feel my hair

*out of nowhere comes a little white animal*

Roman: oh is that the fabled mystery creature Mash told us about?

Mrs. Archaman: oh how cute!

Me: wtf is he?

Rikko: squirrel?

Rikka: cat?

Roman: no idea, my first time seeing him

Roman: come here little guy, I'll give you a treat

Fou: fou fou!

Roman: wait a minute, what's with the pitying look in his eyes!?

*all of a sudden the lights go out, thanks to the explosion*

Well that's the pretty much the story

Really wanted to finally show how Rex got into chaldeas in the first place.

Tagging some folks @panyum @grievouslyxorvia @gxymlky @hasereshdoneanythingwrong

Kinda wonder if people will realize who the mysterious wife is

[movedkagen]

right back at ya,     @guroshi​ !

He’d never been caught before. 

Despite his very obvious restriction regarding cursed energy,     Toji Zen’in   ( ‘Fushiguro’ was a name that would come later )   had never been caught by a person he was pursuing.     He moved soundlessly,     like a panther in the nocturne jungle,     and struck precisely.     It was the one reason why despite his  lack  of ability,     calling him  weak  was a sore mistake.     They therefore treated him like he were a curse himself;     they  loathed  him,     they  were  disgusted  by  him,     but  they  dare  not  say  his  name  lest  he  appear  in  their  midst.     Toji Zen’in had a tendency to appear like a bad omen.   When people caught him,     it was only when he wanted them to,     and it rarely ever ended well.

It turned out that being the boogeyman paid pretty well;    he’d made a living out of that rejection.     And maybe,     just  maybe  to a certain extent he felt a sense of  vindication whenever he closed in on a sorcerer.     Outwardly,    thriving off of the disdain was a survival tactic.     I’m  just  not  a  likable  guy,     he’d  say,    usually with a sardonic laugh.     But  inwardly  …  sinking his blade into the flesh of someone who he  knew  thought him worth little more than an  animal  brought him a slight sick sense of pleasure.     The  jobs  mean  nothing  to  me:     truth.     But it would be a  lie  to say that he didn’t like  fucking  up  the order  of the food chain just by  drawing  breath.     When his very existence served as a shameful  thorn  in the side of his family,     Toji made sure to do so with an expertise that made it so that even  ridicule  was too dangerous an acknowledgement.     If  you’re  going  to  be  bad,     be  the  best  at  it.     If he was hopeless as a Zen’in,     he would therefore be a source of hopelessness to them in turn.

In nearly all other things,     Toji was a man who lived aimlessly;     fighting,   fucking,   food,   fortune.     Those were the only motives that propelled normal men,     and for Toji his motives were no different.     So,     when his phone rang and revealed the voice of his uncle,     Toji nearly hung up.     They’d provide him no benefit,    after all.

“Toji?”     The voice echoes again when his initial greeting doesn’t earn a response.

“Ojisan.”    His voice is groggy,     but the snide way he calls him  uncle  is still palpable.     “If you’re calling me because my old man finally decided to kick the bucket,     save your breath.     I’ve no interest in his funeral.”

He can  hear  the way his uncle grimaces on the receiver.     “That’s not why I’ve called.     We want you to come to the estate.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“We have a job for you ------”

“Not interested.”

“------  and we will pay.”

Toji paused at that.     His family was shit,     sure,     but they were also swimming in cash.     Inversely,     looking over his shoulder at the woman he’d been sleeping with in exchange for a  bed  in January,     he couldn’t be any less liquid.     “...How much are we talking?”

“Name your price and we’ll negotiate.”

It was the right answer;     he knew if he went,     strong - arming the amount he wanted would be easy.     “I’ll be there in an hour.     You waste my time,     I walk.”     Without waiting for a response,    he hangs up and pushes up off the bed,      disappearing to shower.     

He arrives at the estate feeling tense.     He’s got bad memories of this place;     being born without an ability meant he’d spent most of his early teenage years serving the family,     but looking at the other servants,     it could have been worse.     I  could  have  been  born  a  woman,     he thought,     watching with morbid horror as a cousin he barely spoke to struggles to soothe fussing children as her husband glances at her with annoyance without daring to lift a finger to help.    

The Zen’in estate was like a sepulchre;     opulent and pristine from the outside,     but filled nothing but rotting stench and decay internally.

He hides his unease well,     despite it all.     Bile builds in the back of his throat,     but in the room appointed to be their meeting place,     Toji stands with a bored expression and seems as though nothing bothers him at all.     The door slides open,     and he smirks when only his uncle walks through.     Typical.     His father didn’t show.

“So … what did you do for them to dump this meeting on you?     They must not like you these days.     Have you fallen out of favor,     Ojisan?”

His uncle ignores his comments,     taking it as an obvious ploy to provoke him.     Instead,     he simply sits and folds his arms.     “You’re a man who always has his ear to the ground.     Have you heard the rumors?”

“You’re going to need to be more specific.”

“About the Gojo clan.”

The mention of the  Gojo  surname reaches deep into a past Toji barely remembers;     not only is this history  old,   but it’s also near inconsequential.     It’s only ever been mentioned in the story of their  great  victorious  ancestor   who killed the vengeful spirit that fathered that clan,   and how while the Zen’in clan grew in glory,     the Gojo clan continued to fall from it. But oddly enough,     Toji does recall something he’d heard,     which he only remembers because it’s odd to mention the burnt - out family in the first place.     “I heard they have a new kid.”

His uncle gracefully pulls out a kiseru and lights it,    then puffs on it lazily before continuing.     “...The rumor is that he possesses both the  limitless  and the  six eyes  technique.”

Toji frowns.     The longer he’s here,     the less he understands why he’s been called.     “Get to the point.”

“It’s been years since you’ve left,    Toji,    but you surely can’t forget one of the most prolific battles of our family history.     The  ten  shadows  shaman  versus the  limitless  many - eyed spirit.”

“Spare me the lecture,     old man.”

“We want you to verify the rumor.”    Seeing Toji pause,     his uncle doesn’t need to wait for him to ask ‘why me?’  before continuing.     “Your lack of cursed energy means that if it’s true,     you’d be able to get in easily without being noticed.     Since the birth of this boy,     the family has been in utter seclusion.     It’s almost as though they’re trying to hide him from the world.”

For a moment,     Toji is silent.     But slowly,    he chuckles.     The chuckle builds until it’s a booming laugh,     bordering on a cackle.

“Is this funny to y ------”

“Oh,    this is rich!     A little kid has you all shitting yourselves,     is that it?     What’ll happen if the rumors are  true?     Will you all go sick with grief because you don’t have anyone with the ten shadows ability?    Is that it?     Are you sure you want to know,    old man?    After all,     if it’s true,     then your  prolific  battle  story means dog shit.    Unless … you’re asking me to off the kid?     Because if that’s the case,     I won’t do it.    Not because it’s a kid,    but because watching a primary schooler ruin your entire dynasty just by being alive is too funny to let pass by.”

Clear  irritation  is written across his uncle’s expression,     but he forgoes an argument.    “No one is asking you to kill  anyone.    We are confident the  perfection  this family produces is enough to rival one person.    The Gojo clan can’t be rebuilt on the shoulders of a single man.”

“------ But?”

“But,    that hasn’t stopped them from trying.    They’ve managed to weasel their way back into the upper ranks based off of these rumors alone.    If they’re a threat to our own influence,    we must know.”

Toji waves his hand dismissively.    “I don’t care about any of that.    How much are you offering?”

“Five million yen.”

“I want twenty.”

“And yet you’ll only get ten.”

Toji pauses.    Ten  million  yen.    He would have walked with the five,    but to give him this much … they really were uneasy about this,    weren’t they?    It didn’t matter.    These politics didn’t matter to him;    it was a job,    and it paid well.     With ten million yen,    he’d never have to sleep at that dingy apartment in Kabukicho again.    “...Deal.”

This all brought him back to the beginning point:    being  caught  for  the  first  time.    Sneaking into the estate was so easy it was almost comical,    and dressed properly,    he  was easily believed to be a servant himself.    The Gojo estate was different from the Zen’in estate.    The Zen’in clan was big,    lively compared to this place,    where he could hear a pebble being kicked across the gravel he walked upon.     This place was a graveyard.    If the Zen’in estate was like a palace of bones,     the Gojo estate was like the temple of a god that had died centuries ago.    Big,    but brittle.    Quiet.   Prayed to only by the wind that passed through it,    as if out of pity,    echoing the hollowness of it all.    

But it would seem that god had returned at long last.

He made sure to keep a safe distance behind the boy;    he was followed by two men on either side of him at all times,    who Toji deduced to be bodyguards.     If that was the case,    he could only assume the rumors were indeed true.    Why else would a child need to be guarded in his own home?     As he walks behind him,    Toji feels something unpleasant.    Pity  is too noble a word;    but it was like gazing upon a lovely bird in a zoo.    Did  it  know  that  it  was  captive,    or  was  it  content  with  the  magnificent  cage  it  lived  in?    

This  kid  is  going  to  be  one  hell  of  a  puppet,     he thinks.

It is at that moment that the boy stops walking,    then turns and looks at him.    There’s  no  mistaking  it.    His eyes lock with Toji’s,    and Toji halts in his tracks.    It’s not like him to stop like that,    but his body freezes of its own accord.  Fighting,   fucking,   food,   fortune.    He’d always believed those were the four things that motivated the average man,     but he forgot the last motive;    maybe because he didn’t remember the last time he felt it,     if he’d ever felt it at all before this moment.

Fear.

The boy’s face is pale and listless,    nothing like that of a child.    His hair and eyelashes are bone - white,    and his eyes,    large and owl - like,    are a crystal clear blue that shimmers in a manner that makes it seem as though his irises  swirl,    like pools of fate.     Toji shouldn’t be able to see that from here,    but for some reason distance doesn’t seem to  matter  between them.    He is several feet away from the child,    but he sees him as though he’s inches in front of his nose.    Curse  …   sorcerer  …   those words didn’t suit this boy at all.

This  child  is  a  demon.

The child doesn’t blink.    The guards beside him seem to keep walking,    but the boy also never seems to move from his place.    Did  he  stop time?    Did  he  pull  Toji  into  another  dimension  entirely?  The boy gazes at him with neither curiosity nor contempt;    he simply looks at him,     looks  through  him,    and Toji feels as though his soul is being stripped bare.     There’s no doubt.     This boy knows everything;    Toji wasn’t a paranoid man in the slightest,    but he felt as though this child had known about it all  ------   the zen’in’s,     the exchange,     the ten million yen,     the rumors and the eyes on him,     and the task to verify it all.

Well?,     his eyes seemed to say.    Have  you seen  enough?     You  have  someone  waiting  for  you.     Go  and  tell  them.

Toji  would  never  forget  that  boy  again.

He’d never been caught before.

As the knife is pulled from his flesh,     Satoru feels the strange, unfamiliar sensation of being unable to support himself enough to stand.     Is  this  what  weakness  felt  like?     He falls to the floor,     finding himself incapable of processing that this attack even happened in the first place.     He watches his blood pool around him   ------    strangely enough,     he feels no pain.     As his vision goes dark,     he knows the truth;     the shock is preventing him from feeling a thing.     Maybe he wasn’t as untouchable as he thought.     “Su …”     The name is not even half spoken before he falls silent.

He must be dead.

He stands in an expanse that extends  forever,     an endless void of vantablack that is maddening to look at.     Didn’t people get a rush of endorphins before they died?     Why,     then,    did he see a past that only made him miserable?     He watches his life flash before his eyes;     he sees his own birth.     He sees the countless days he spent in his family estate,     learning mathematical theory and physical nonsense all because they  hoped  he would awaken this latent  infinity  within him.     He sees his arrival to Tokyo tech   ------   his first time away from the prying eyes of his family.     His first time meeting kids who weren’t  hand  selected  to be his friends.     The thrilling sensation of being disliked,     being  a  delinquent.     Breaking rules and laughing from his chest.     It  was  a  fun  way  to  end  things,     he thought.     I  just  wish  I’d  gotten  to  have  a  lot  more  of  it.

He’s shown the moment of his demise,     and Satoru grimaces.     Ugh,     how  uncool.     He looks like a deer with its throat in the maw of the wolf;     helpless,     surprised a second too late.     He sees the horror in Suguru’s expression,     and he feels just a tinge of guilt.     The  strongest  duo’s  broken  up.     Sorry  I  couldn’t  stay  and  help  you  in  the  end.     

He wants to look away   ------   really,     who wanted to watch themselves die twice?   ------   but just as he thinks to,     Satoru’s eyes stop on the face of the man who killed him.     Why   does   he  look  familiar?     He looks at his life laid before him,    and watches a bright white string extend from this image and go back,     back,     back  into a very peculiar day in his childhood.     He sees himself,     six  years old,     turning and locking eyes with him.

No.     Not  him.    This man.

He  met  him  before.

Great,     he thought bitterly.     So  I was  more  perceptive  when  I was  a  first  year.    

But then,     all of the images hit him at once.     They condense and slam him with such force that Satoru feels  pain  all over his body,    like the wind has been knocked out of him.    He’s drowning in this knowledge   ------   this  infinity.     Maybe that means in the physical world,    his lungs are taking their last shallow breaths.     The images continue to condense until they make a small orb;     the single source of light in this place.     Slowly,     the orb opens and reveals an iris that reflects his own:     too blue to be human,    dimly shimmering in a way that makes them seem like a flowing spring.     Satoru feels his own gaze turned upon him.     His own voice echoes in his ears.     Get  up,     it says.     Or  are  you  really  that  weak?     If  you  can’t  get  up,     you  were  never  strong.     You  deserve  to  die  here.     Satoru’s hand extends towards the orb.

Get  up,     dickhead.

Satoru wakes up with a gasp,    bolting upright with a shock that could wake the dead.      And hadn’t it?     No … he looks down at himself,    and sees the still - warm blood staining his shirt.     Satoru realizes in that moment,     he never died at all.

Gojo Satoru had touched infinity for the first time.

He stills himself and thinks.     Or,     more accurately,     perceives.     He allows those six eyes to see  for  him.      He’d forgotten that so much of his power worked without his effort,     if he let it.     Riko is dead.     Suguru is alive.    He’s still bleeding from his leg.    And Toji is …

The  rest  is  a  blur.

“Yo. Long time no see.”     It’s all he can say,     when he’s intercepted Toji.     Why is he here?     The job is done.     They  failed.     There’s no reason for Satoru to come here.

Ah,    that was a lie.     He was here to kill Toji.    Infinity … he’d touched it and seen it;     he’d be the strongest,    now.     No more goofing off,     no more avoiding his own holiness.     But the thing about being a  god  is that gods can’t be killed.     And if there was someone who could kill him,      that person had to fight him.     Yes,     that would be his true trial of divinity;     he and Toji would fight here and now until one of them died,     and whoever left standing would be the one  truly  bound to heaven.

The shock on Toji’s face doesn’t matter to him at all.     ... Are you serious?,     he says,     but Satoru hears it like a dull echo.     He’s barely listening to him.

Toji is weak,      after all.     And he hates weak people.

The shock is enough to make Satoru giddy,     however,     so he grins and pushes his hair up to show him the healed wound to his head.  “Oh,      yeah.     I’m alive and well.”     His eyes are owl - like and large again,     though they don’t shimmer like quiet pools.     They churn like a riptide,     and they focus on Toji with malicious intent.

“A reverse technique,”     Toji breathes,     more to himself than to anyone else.

“Correct!”     Satoru chirps.     “I gave up on fighting back when you crushed my throat.     I poured my all into perfecting this technique.     Cursed energy uses negative energy.     It can fortify the body,     but it can’t cause regeneration.     That’s why it’s necessary to multiply it with more negative energy to create the positive.     That’s the reverse technique!”     He laughs and his grin widens,     and he can tell his elation is too much for Toji to understand.    But it can’t be helped   ------   this isn’t about Toji.     He’s giddy because all along,     the secret to reverse technique was  math.     Simple math,     whereas Satoru had mastered complex number theory ages ago.     All this time,     the ability’s secret had simply flown over his head.     If he had known it was just the application of a basic mathematical principle,     he could have used reverse technique ten years ago.     “The theory is easy enough,     but I couldn’t do it at  all ... until now.     The only person I know who could do it can’t explain for shit,     either.     But I  finally  got it when I was on my deathbed … the core of cursed energy.” 

Satoru grins and sighs euphorically before continuing on.     “You lost because you didn’t cut off my head,     and because you didn’t use a cursed tool when you stabbed me in the head.”     Doesn’t Toji understand how  funny  that is?

Apparently not.     Toji’s eyes flash all of a sudden.     “Lost?”     He says,    pulling a cursed blade from the throat of his  worm  of an accessory.     “The fight has just begun.”

“------ Huuuuuuuuuuuh?!     Ah,     yeah,     I guess so!”     Satoru realizes he’s right;     he’d already seen the end of this in infinity,     but he supposed he couldn’t say it happened until it did,     right?      He was getting ahead of himself.     It’s not like  Toji  could see the future.      He starts to laugh.     “I guess you’re right!”

Toji gives him no time to even finish his sentence.     He’s a real warrior,     Satoru will give him that.     He flies at him with the same beast - like grin from before,     only this one is different.     They both fight with the full intent to kill,     and it’s not a matter of work.     It’s a battle for the crown;     one that Toji was for better or worse proud to have,     and not willing to give up easily.     Good.     Toji understands.   

He slashes at Satoru with terrifying force,     but he has evolved since their last fight.    The once devastating prowess of the sorcerer - killer is little more than a  mild  inconvenience  to him,     now.     By the time Toji’s slash reaches the end of its arc,     Satoru is in the sky above him,     and even more terrifying than when he gave him that maddening smile,     he looks upon him with a wide - eyed,     barely perceptible grin.     Though  he’d  already  reached  a  new  height,     it  would  seem  he  was  evolving  again,     right  before  Toji’s  eyes.     He  was  fortunate  to  witness  it.

The positive energy  that  is  born  from  the  reverse  technique  …  that  energy  is  channeled  into  the  infinity  technique  I’ve  carved  in  myself.     He  understands,     now.     Reverse rotation  technique.

“Red.”

It repels Toji back hundreds of feet,     through a  building  and into the side of the concrete.

One:     “The  power  to  stop.”     The  neutral  infinity jutsu.     Up  until  this  point,     an  ability  that  required  vigilance  and  effort,     and  why  he’d  fallen  to  Toji.

Two:     “The  power  to  attract.”     The  reinforced  infinity  jujutsu,     “blue”.

Three:     “The  power  to  repel.”     The  reverse  jujutsu,     “red”.

Satoru watches him attach his blade to a chain and create a vortex with it.     Toji believes that he can fight this.     And why wouldn’t he?     Satoru had the power to stop from the start,     and Toji circumvented it.     The power to attract,      he could negate either from afar with the spear,     or he could outrun it.     The power to repel could be blocked with the spear,     so long as he got the timing right.

But Satoru still appears on the rooftop with the same peaceful grin from before,     appearing madder than ever.     He  knows  all  of  Toji’s  thoughts  already.     He  knows  his  heart.     He knows that unease is slowly settling into his foe,     but that despite that,     Toji  believes he still has a chance. 

“No,”     Toji tells himself.     “It’ll work.”     Satoru knew that Toji would say that.   “------ I’ll  kill  you!”

Satoru knew he’d say that,     too.

Time seems to go still,    for a moment.     Satoru reigns himself in,     a sobering clarity coming forward in the midst of it all;     he  would  not  be  a  foolish  god,     after  all.

I’m  really  sorry,     Amanai,     he thinks.     I’m  not  angry on  your  behalf.     I  don’t  hate  anyone.     All  I’m  feeling  right  now  …  Is  the  pleasantness  of  this  world.

Satoru grins again,    and extends his hands forward.     This would be the final blow.  “Throughout the heavens and earth,     I alone am the honored one.”     

Toji whips the bladed chain at Satoru,     but it’s less effective than flailing a cotton  rope  at him,    at  this  point.     You  don’t  understand  what’s  going  to  happen  yet,     he thinks.     That’s  okay.    I  saw  it  in  the  void.     You’re  going  to  die  here,     Toji.     Thank  you  for  sending  me  into  myself.     I  understand  everything,     now.

The good thing about jujutsu techniques that have been passed down over generations is that the instructions on their usage are clarified by the predecessors. The bad thing is that the information about the technique can be leaked much more easily.

You’re  from  one  of  the  three  great  clans  …  the Zen’in  clan,     am  I  right?     Satoru recalls the day he met Toji,     all those years ago.     The man who came to see him for ten million yen.     How could he forget?     He’d seen infinity before.     

You  know  about  “blue”  and  “red”  …  and  everything  about  my  infinity,     I’ll  bet,     Satoru thinks.     But  this  …  even  among  the  Gojo  clan  …  only  a  select  few  know  about.     When  the  infinity  collides  with  the  forward  and  reverse  rotation  techniques  …  this  is  born.     The  expulsion  of  imaginary  mass  …

And  I’m  using  it  to  kill  you.     You  should  be  honored,    Toji.

“Imaginary Technique:     Purple.”

It is spoken like a final rite;    like the decree to end all decrees.     The opposing forces converge and destroy everything in their path  …  Toji,     and anything unlucky enough to be behind him.

Satoru fixes that impenetrable gaze on him again.     That soul stripping,     all - knowing gaze.     “I  don’t  wanna  work  for  free.”  ------  you’d  usually  just  have  said  that  and  ran  away.     But  the  person  in  front  of  you  is  a  user  of  the  infinity  jutsu,    who  probably  just  became  the  strongest  shaman  of  this  generation.     You  wanted  to  deny  it.     To  go  against  it.     Against  the  Zen’in  clan  that  denied  you,    against  the  apex  of  the  jujutsu  world.    In  order  to  reaffirm  your  identity  …  you  warped  your  usual  self. 

You  already  lost  at  that  point.

“I thought I had discarded that pride …”  Toji breaks the silence for them,     finishing the thought that Satoru had heard from the depths of Toji’s soul.

Satoru heard every thought leading up to that declaration,     but he feels strangely peaceful in the moment.      He’d  made this prophecy come true;     Gojo  Satoru  emerged victorious,    conquering death and the god - killer  himself.     There would be a new era from now on;     for better or for worse,     Satoru would be the head of it.     “... Do you have any last words?”

“ … Nah.”     The look on Toji’s face says he  knows  that Satoru’s seen everything.     But,     just in case  …  “In two or three years,     my kid will get sold to the Zen’in clan.”     Why was he telling him that?     Maybe because he was understanding that if  anyone  could  fuck  up  the  natural  order  of  things,     it wasn’t him at all.     It  has  always  been  this  kid.     Maybe it was because,     in his final moments,     he realized that he’d left behind nothing,     and given his  blessing  to the very place that had sculpted his demise.     Maybe it was the “regret” those damn shamans never shut up about.     Whatever  it  was,     Toji  couldn’t  bring  himself  to  beg,     even  on  Megumi’s  behalf.     “... Do whatever you want.”

Before the light left Toji’s eyes,     Satoru watched something else die first.     What  broke  then  …  was  the  heart.     What,     did he think he would go and right his wrongs?     That he would protect his  kid?     It seemed his six eyes hadn’t anticipated him doing  that.     Honestly,     what was Toji thinking?     It was too late to ask that now,     but  Satoru only knew  one  thing for certain.

Satoru would never forget this man again.