#sometimes tents that are bigger. are better

[elainemorisi]

.

[dcxdpdabbles]

God, I love the Cave Boy series. Will the batfam manage to find him after he dips. Will they ever find out about his powers. So many questions

Danny stays underground for days.

He doesn't know the exact time frame because he only goes to the surface to grab supplies. He makes sure to only fully emerge when there is no light out.

It was a bigger risk to be caught by the Waynes, who only operated in the dark, but it ensured fewer eyewitnesses were around. Danny Kane was still a very hot celebrity for taking down the Joker- he would be surrounded by a mob of fans if he walked down the street.

He moved his ship into a deeper cave by phasing the large metal and all his equipment through solid rock, which was not easy. It was a miracle he found a little pocket to set up shop.

Danny thinks the little pocket- surrounded by stone with no opening at all, was formed after a cave-in at one point. It was large enough to work on his ship and had just enough space to set up a sleeping bag and a tent for rest.

He rarely uses that space nowadays.

Danny had stolen from a camping store- taking with him an entire box of lanterns that he placed strategically around his space. They threw light to the large four walls of stone- making him feel trapped inside a midevil dungeon, and somehow, it also made him think incredulity alone.

That was the worst part of this whole change of scenery. He doesn't want to admit it, but he got used to Wayne Manor and the colorful characters there.

He hadn't even done anything besides lay around but he missed the sound of people. Even before Bruce had found him, Danny would see people often as he wandered around gathering a sense of the city.

Now, he was genuinely suffocating alone. He didn't feel the loss often, but there were times when it felt like being hit by a truck.

It's when his own ice powers reach into his bones, causing his teeth to clatter and curl up into a smaller ball on the cave ground, that Danny misses the Manor the most. He stole food from the stores- but without any way to cook or heat it up, it's limited to the packed food.

Sometimes, while eating packs of dried fruit, he thinks longingly of Alfred's warm meals. Then he remembers how they looked at him when his lies got so out of hand that they believed Bruce's parents lived in his world and he could suppress the longing to return.

Danny has made leaps and bounds on building his ship since he no longer pretends to be Brucie. He no longer filled the hours with nonsense, only being awake to work or stealing what he needed to continue working.

Unlike before, Danny had developed a tunnel version of finishing his project. He no longer wanted to give himself time to ensure everything was fine.

He just wanted to go home.

He's gotten better at wielding using his own ghost laser, and now his ship had its full body. It was missing seats, a window, and even a steering program that actually turned when he wanted- but he was getting closer and closer every day.

All the small technology pieces he stole from the Waynes were on one side- ripped apart for the needed parts. He would spend hours carefully opening everything to check what he could use and what he could melt down to repurpose.

Danny carefully pulls out some small wires from the electric candle he took from the Wayne Dinner table when his vision blurs. He takes a moment to blink rapidly, trying to let the sudden burst of lightheadedness pass him.

Sadly, it was only a few seconds before he crumbled to the hard ground. He gasps, the cold coming back tenfold, and he can do nothing but lay there and pray the pain passes.

Danny hadn't felt this weak since his ice core first developed. Even the first Ghostly Wail hadn't made his limbs feel this heavy.

He knows he has been pushing himself too far lately- barely eating or sleeping- but Danny can't risk any wasted second. He saw the resources the Bats have.

It was only a matter of time before they found him- even if they would need to drill through the solid stone for hours to reach him- and he didn't want to face them after the guilt of lying to them was slowly eating him alive.

He had kept the Wayne at arm's length the entire time, living under the pretense of being Bruce Wayne's counterpart. He told himself he wanted nothing to do with their nightly battle against evil- and he didn't!- and that he could care less if they treated him as family.

He took everything they gave him without hesitation, telling himself they were fools for letting anyone in and stealing from them. Danny thought it would not matter as he would finish his ship and be flying home long before they realized he wasn't Bruce.

Until they stop treating him so warmly after killing the Joker. Danny wasn't sorry about it, but suddenly, he was a stranger in a crowd to them.

Danny had no right to be upset. He lied. He didn't want to be Brucie to them and had actively made Tim look bad by being as Unproactive as possible, going along with changed narratives of his world.

Danny had used the Waynes.

Yes, he did so, believing they were a cult or an evil madman, but he learned that wasn't the case early on. He could have ended the lie at any moment, but he didn't because he figured it would be harmless.

Then he realized that Bruce's parents were killed in front of him- the story wasn't hard to find when he actually bothered to look into the Waynes at a local high school library after hours.

Not only did he find the horrific story, but he found out that almost all the Waynes had a tragic story. Dick's parents were murdered in an accident that wasn't an accident at all.

Tim's parents were killed by a madman with boomerangs. Jason's father died in prison, and his mother overdosed before Bruce took him in. Duke's parents were patients with no working mind because of the Joker (Danny should have made his death last longer).

The only ones that didn't seem to be Cass and Damian, but he knew it was likely due to Bruce not wanting the public to learn that they came from abusive households- he figured that much out by their reactions.

Even Alfred had a history of PTSD from his time in the army. There was an article about a scandal when Bruce had actually been a child- apparently, someone had thought to release firecrackers under the servant's table, and Alfred had panicked. People had mocked him about it for months.

Everyone had a reason to be a villain, yet they all had opened their home to him and been nothing but kind. They were good, and they treated him like family.

Danny felt sick with himself, for being so self-centered he never bothered to really get to know them. And now he never could.

A few tears rolled down his face as his vision started to blur out more and more.

No use crying over it now, Fenton. Though the haze of exhaustion doesn't let him get up from the floor, he thinks bitterly.

He'll rest for a little bit, then get back to work. Only for a few minutes/

Danny doesn't notice his body has shifted in his Ghist side, slowly redirecting his energy to his core, so that his healing could help overcome the unknown days.

He is not aware his heartbeat stops at the same time.

_____________________________________________________________

"I can't hear him anymore!" A young boy screams, pressing his ear against a stone. Horror clouds his voice as he turns to stare at another boy. "His heartbeat....it's not...."

"We must make haste! Breakthrough now!" The other boy snaps.

"But that might cause the cave to fall on top of him." The other rubs his hands together nervously. "I think we may be too late to save-"

"Every second we waste is a second that Brucie gets closer to death!" His company growls savagely, though the tears in his eyes make him less scary. "We have to at least bring his body home- we-I can't- he needs to be buried properly."

Not even a second passed before the other boy threw his shoulders back, yanking out his phone and pressing a speed dial two.

His father picks up two rings. "Jon?"

"Dad! We found Brucie! He was stuck in a cave underneath the tunnels leading to Gotham Cemetry. Can you come help me get him out?"

"I'll be right there."

[withleeknow]

whiskers.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; reader has whisker dimples bc this is self-indulgent as hell, written in one sitting and v unedited lol it is once again 2am and i am half asleep. the fake cut mimo has on his cheek in the pics is kind of exactly where my whiskers are lmfao word count: 0.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

"whiskers," minho says, pulling your gaze away from the laptop in front of you.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, though you do put the device to the side to give minho your undivided attention. he's looking at you expectantly but patiently, like he's just asking you to give him a little love.

this isn't something that you've always liked about yourself, your whisker dimples as the internet has so lovingly deemed them these days. they would come out when you smile, or when your face twists into an unpleasant scowl. as a kid, people often found it odd how you had dimples so high up in your cheeks when others had them around their smile lines. you always felt a little different, a little weird whenever someone pointed this out even if it was only in harmless fun.

when minho first became aware of it, he was absolutely fascinated. he'd made you laugh so hard that you couldn't contain the bright grin that spread across your face as complete and utter joy took over you. you were clutching his arm, giggling at the story he was telling you when the dimples showed themselves, the cute indentations settling on top of your cheeks as if they were the physical manifestation of the happiness you felt inside.

you remember what minho did. he had cupped your face gently in his hands, then traced the soft lines with his fingers as he marveled at you. "you look like a cat," he had said, and you didn't really know what to make of it. it was so early in your relationship that you weren't sure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you like the others had.

but then the stars in his eyes twinkled a little brighter, the delighted quirk of his lips expressing his wonder better than words could. he had kissed you right there, softer and sweeter than he ever did in the short time that you had known each other back then, and you quickly learned that oh, maybe this little detail about yourself that you were embarrassed of your whole life was a good thing after all.

you still don't know the reason minho likes them so much. to you, they've always been something to ignore as best as you can, something to not draw attention to because you don't want people to highlight that maybe you're a little different from everybody else.

even as you sit here, years later with the love of your life who's got a very particular request for you, you're still not entirely sure why he's obsessed with your odd dimples enough to want to see them almost every day. it's a mystery to you and yet, it makes you feel all warm and bubbly inside whenever he sends this simple demand your way.

you adhere to his request nonetheless. when the dimples appear, you watch as a smile blooms on his face, growing bigger and bigger until it makes his eyes crinkle. like an instant boost of serotonin, you think.

minho traces them with gentle fingers, gazing at you in awe as if it's the first time he's seeing you like this. when he leans closer, you can't help but meet him halfway until his lips are tentatively brushing your cheeks. you can't help your own smile either, when it deepens and only accentuates the small moon-shaped dents which he kisses. five times on each side, and then he's peppering kisses all over your face while you laugh and accept the sudden burst of love.

sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 31.05.2024]

[winterrrnight]

mystery of love

PAIRING: husband!soft!rafe cameron x wife!fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe started to get more busy with his business, and you couldn’t help but start to feel neglected by him.

WARNINGS: soft soft SOFT rafe, he's so lovesick for his wife it is crazy (no it isn’t that’s practically canon), slightly suggestive content but it’s written with a fluffy intent, usage of nicknames like goddess & baby, and just loads of sweetness over all, very very slight angst (?) and intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this fic is more on this, you can’t look at that picture and not think that’s rafe, cause it is! thank you so so much to @glimodejun who commented their idea which prompted me to write this 🫶🏼 i was supposed to write a blurb but I got carried away, clearly, and this is pushing 2k words 😁

anyways, please please reblog if you liked this and feedback is always appreciated! thank you so much for reading 🫧

navigation || join my taglist || requests || series masterlist

oh will wonders ever cease? blessed be the mystery of love

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it was starting to get a little out of hand.

you always knew how important rafe’s business was to him, especially after he inherited it all from his father. the burgeoning fire in him to make the business bigger and better than it had ever been and be so much more powerful than his father, who couldn’t give him an ounce of attention or praise his entire childhood was one of the biggest things fueling his motivation.

that, and wanting to give you everything you could possibly need in great abundance so that you never felt you were at a loss of anything under his roof.

so you knew he tended to sometimes spend longer hours at the office, to get everything done, to not let a single mistake fall into place in front of his eyes, everything perfectly coordinated and right up to his standards.

he always made sure to call you or send you a text if he was going to be late, informing you why he was going to be late, the tentative time he should be back home, with a small ‘i love you’ and ‘i miss you’ accompanied with the occasional red heart he only ever used for you.

since the past few days, unfortunately you hadn’t been receiving the texts you always did. if you did, it was short, something along the lines of ‘i’ll be late’. but no explanation as to exactly what had been keeping him busy, and no words of endearment at all. he started coming home really late, most of the times when you had tried your best to stay up till he comes home, but the exhaustion would always defeat him in the race and you’d be out like a light.

and the next morning wasn’t close to being better than the night. if you were lucky, you would catch him getting ready for work, and you would always prompt him to stay for at least breakfast. but he would be in a hurry and shake his head no, saying something like ‘i have to leave, it’s important’ and leaving you with a chaste kiss to your lips.

whatever you’d ask, his answers to you would be short, concise and quick, and you felt as if you’re catching the subtle drift of vexation and annoyance in his tone. was it actually there or were you just imagining it? you didn’t know.

and if you weren’t lucky, you wouldn’t even get to see him leave. by the time you would be up, you would only feel the cold wrinkled sheets next to you, the faint scent of him lingering in the air as a burning memory of the love of your life.

this specific night, exactly one week after since the first day this peculiar behavior of his started, you were seated on the edge of the bed after a shower, applying your lotion on your arms as you prepared yourself for another night of waiting for rafe, falling asleep in the process, and letting it be a mystery solved only by some higher power if you would see him in the morning or not.

as you were rubbing the lotion into your skin, you couldn’t help your wandering mind. how were you supposed to deal with this situation? were you supposed to confront him and demand answers? or were you supposed to tread slowly? you knew you were nearing the end of the american fiscal year; 30th of september being right around the corner. it involved loads of financial and accounting work, preparing end-of-year accounts and statements, and what not. so him being busy felt justified. but he should be able to spare a moment to at least send you a proper text, shouldn’t he?

no, you shake your head. you’re his wife, for god’s sake. you shouldn’t be reducing your worth down to some text. heck, you should be getting proper calls from him. you’ve been so wonderfully patient, not complaining for a second for the past week. the least you can get is a proper conversation with him.

as you made up your mind firmly, your thoughts were cut through firmly when the door to your bedroom opened. you looked up to see rafe entering inside the room, his blazer off and resting on his shoulder, and his sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows.

“hey,” he muttered as he closed the door behind him, keeping his bag on the side and disappearing behind the washroom door.

“hey,” you said quietly, your gaze fixed on the floor as you heard the washroom door close. you remained seated on the edge of the bed, clad in a satin black robe which he swore made you look even more of a goddess than you already did as you waited for him to come out.

you heard the shower run inside for some time, after which the door opened and you were greeted with rafe sporting a pair of grey sweatpants, his upper body bare with some water droplets still trickling down his skin.

as he came out, he saw you in the same position at the edge of the bed as before. “hey why aren’t you going to sleep hm?” he asked as he busied himself with applying his moisturizer to his face.

“no reason,” you muttered, your back to him as you kept your gaze down at your feet.

rafe was very quick to catch the dejection in your voice, and before you knew it, he was making his way around the bed to you, standing right in front of you as he looked down at you.

“baby, look up please,” he murmured softly, one of his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

you lifted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyelids heavy as you look up at him through your lashes. “yeah?” you mumbled.

rafe exhaled softly at your bleak tone. he sank down on his knees in front of you, his gaze coming to your level.

“listen baby,” he sighed softly, placing both his hands on your thighs right below the hem of the robe. “I… I haven’t been the best husband the past week and I’m… so so sorry about that,”

his heartfelt words reached your ears and caused your eyes to widen, your mind started to work away the gears to process his words.

“I haven’t been giving you the attention and love I vowed to give you on day one,” he whispered looking deep in your eyes, his own eyes softened to such an extent it had you melting completely. “I haven’t been communicating well with you I…” he muttered, running one hand over his prickly buzzed hair, “I didn’t mean to do that baby I’m so sorry…”

you wanted to say something, anything, for that matter, but you were rendered completely speechless when you started feeling him press kisses over your thighs.

“I hope you can forgive me,” he whispered into your skin, “I hope you can forgive me for everything I did… I’ll make it up to you I promise…”

your lips parted to let out shuddering gasps as you felt him slowly move the satin of your robe up to reveal more of your thighs, his lips pressing kisses against your inner thighs and trailing over your outer thighs.

“I’m so sorry… so sorry, my goddess…” he whispered. “i won’t ever do this again… you’re my top priority, always, and there will never be a second where you don’t feel that way…”

his words left a searing mark on your skin, his lips trailing up to your left hip bone. one of his hands came to rest on your right hip, rubbing gentle circles onto your hip bone through the satin of your robe, and his other hand shifted your robe even higher to grant him more access to your skin. his lips landed on your hip bone and he pressed the most tender kisses along the bone, a soft gasp escaping your lips at his actions. your hand came to rest on the side of his face, your head leaning back as you felt the sensations of his lips on your sensitive hip bone thrum all throughout your body, lighting up each and every nerve that constituted you.

“I love you so much…” he whispered against your skin, starting to gently suck on your skin, his eyes fluttering shut. a hum of pleasure tumbled past your lips, your own eyelids getting heavier. “I love you so so much darling and I’m…” his lips started to trail over your lower abdomen, pressing kisses through the soft satin of your robe that still covered your upper half, “I’m never making this mistake ever again I promise... please forgive me…” he pleaded, his lips making over to your other hip bone and kissing on it, before gently sucking on it the same way he did earlier.

“you only deserve the best…” he murmured, lips trailing a path down to your inner thigh again. “just the best… cause you are so amazing…” he whispered, nipping on the soft skin of your inner thigh. your fingers curled over the nape of his neck to give you some leverage, soft gasps leaving your lips, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chest starting to heave from every kiss and nip of his lips and teeth.

his both hands now rested on the sides of your thighs as they gently kneaded into the flesh and his lips peppered insistent kisses all over your inner thighs. he looked up from your thighs up to you, a pleading expression in his eyes, his lips slightly parted as breaths escaped them.

“please forgive me, my beautiful goddess…” he implored, his voice a mere whisper. “please please forgive me, I’ll never do the same I promise…”

you looked down at him, your fingers trailing to the side of his face to gently cup his cheek. he snuggled into the warmth of your hand almost immediately, his eyes closing for a moment as he let out a soft sigh, letting his lips press a chaste kiss to your palm.

“I forgive you, rafe…” you whispered.

that made him look up at you, his eyes widened and the pleading expression draining out to be replaced with a hopeful one.

“yeah? you do?” he asked, squeezing your thighs in return.

“yeah,” you whispered back, giving him a small smile as you trailed your fingers to the side of his neck, gently scratching your nails against it. he let out a soft exhale at the sensation, letting his head drop to your thighs as your fingers made their way to the back of his neck, continuing the scratching motion. he almost purred in your lap at the feeling, nestling his face into your thighs.

“thank you…” he whispered against your skin. “I won’t disappoint you again, I promise,”

you let out a gentle sigh as you looked at his buried face in your thighs, your expression softening more.

“I know you won’t,” you mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his head.

that night, he held you in his arms and kept you pressed against him, his warmth lulling you in the most beautiful slumber you had experienced in that past week. he made sure you fell asleep comfortably, his lips always pressing random kisses to whatever part of your skin he could succumb to, whispered sweet nothings stumbling past his lips to your ears to alleviate you to great heights.

↶���✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 14.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, marking, trauma symptoms, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Y'all I'm back from the beach all crispy and tanned. Finally found some time and inspiration to continue this.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first day, y/n didn't leave the tent because of spite (and the immense pain that radiated off the wound in pulsating waves). The second day, she didn't leave the bed cause she felt as if she'd faint if she tried to get up. By the third day, y/n developed a fever that made it impossible for her to move at all.

Katsuki watches over her with a worried gaze. He's in and out of their shared tent trying to balance his business and his mate. He orders the healers to have a close look at her. When the head healer comes to speak with him while he’s fulfilling his duty, he knows that something is wrong.

“The infection spread. She’s having a high fever. I’ve already sent some of our men to look for fresh herbs to make a fever-reducing medicine, but that can only help so much. We will be giving her cool calf compresses throughout the night. You might want to stay with her tonight.”, the healer explains.

Katsuki feels as if his heart stopped for a millisecond. He only gives the healer a short nod. It might seem cold and emotionless towards others, but the truth is that Katsuki doesn’t trust his voice.

After that, he adjourns the meeting with his men and returns to y/n’s bedside. Some healers are busily swirling around the small tent, soaking cloths in cold water and pulling them around y/n’s legs. 

Katsuki delicately holds y/n’s hand as if her hand would turn to dust like a dried flower when you crunch it too hard. He stares at her chest which heavily goes up and down. Despite her obvious troubled breathing, y/n barely lets out a sound. He’d take her yelling at him over this eery silence any day.

“Bakugou.”, a voice rips him out of his thoughts. Kirishima stands at the entrance of the tent. When Katsuki gives him a sign, Kirishima carefully enters his leader’s private quarter.

“How is she?”, Kirishima asks carefully standing behind him. Katsuki doesn’t turn around to meet his eye. 

“The fever’s bad but the healers are working on it.”, he tells him.

Kirishima stays silent. Katsuki does not need to explain y/n’s condition further. Fevers are tricky things. They come in slowly and when they hit, they’re hard to get under control. Katsuki’s own father perished due to the same infection that took out most of his tribe’s women. He understands better than anyone just how quickly a simple infection can take someone’s life.

“She will pull through.”, Kirishima encourages him. Katsuki’s lips form a firm line. When Katsuki doesn’t answer, he adds: “That one is a strong one. She’s a fighter”.

“So was my father. So were many of our women.”, Katsuki tells him.

“This is not the same, you know that. They were sick and y/n has only an infected wound.”, Kirishima points out.

“And how many warriors have we lost because of that?”, Katsuki presses. Kirishima stays silent. He wishes his leader would be less of a realist sometimes. It’d be easier to cheer him up in dark moments.

The entrance of the tent is moved once again and Mitsuki enters. She gives the healers and Kirishima a sign to leave her alone with her son.

“Have you come to gloat, mother?”, Katsuki bites venomously. Mitsuki gives him a long, unidentifiable look.

“I do not wish this upon you or… her.”, Mitsuki says. Katsuki doesn’t look at his mother either. Instead, he observes how y/n’s eyelashes cast a slim shadow onto her undereyes.

Mitsuki sighs deeply and sits down next to him.

“Son… I know how you feel. Remember, I’ve lost your father the same way.”, she reminds him. When Katsuki doesn’t answer her, she continues.

“Maybe it was inevitable. We’ve lost other women before her. These women you bring in are not suited for life in the mountains. They’re often too weak to survive the harsh winters out here. It’s not their fault their bodies are weak. They do not carry the same hot blood as we do. The blood that also makes our wounds heal faster.”, Mitsuki tells him.

“Others survived the mating. So will she.”, Katsuki says determinedly. It’s something he’s not sure of, something he didn’t even believe only seconds ago when Kirishima pointed out the same thing. Maybe he's just saying it to defy his mother. He’s aware of how fragile y/n is compared to women of his tribe. It’s why he fears the worst.

Mitsuki looks at her son for a long time before putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, I know this is not what you wished for, but maybe it’s for the best.”, she tells him. Harshly Katsuki yanks his shoulder back and shoves her hand away.

“That my mate dies days after she became mine? How is that for the best?”, Katsuki whisper-yells. The healers must still be outside the tent.

Mitsuki pulls back her arm. “She’s not suited for this life, to be a strong leader by your side. It’s best that it happens so early before you’re too attached to her.”, Mitsuki says compassionately and it just makes Katsuki just more angry.

“If she dies, I will not take another mate. As it is custom.”, Katsuki harshly points out.

“In our situation, no one would question you breaking traditions.”, Mitsuki replies.

“I don’t care.”, Katsuki barks and grips y/n’s hand tighter. There’s no one else for him besides her. He made his choice, he knew the implications.

Mitsuki sighs and gets up. “We’ll see.”, she only says calmly and turns around to exit the tent leaving Katsuki alone sitting at y/n’s side.

~*~*~*~

Everything lies in a hazy fog. Y/n is sure she can make out Katsuki's face in her distorted vision. Something hot runs through her stomach. Is it anger? She can't remember what she should be angry about. Then maybe, she's wrong. Her vision fades and Katsuki's face becomes blurred. Maybe it was never Katsuki to begin with?

„Brother!“, y/n calls out through the mist.

Is he here? Has he come to take her home? Back to mother and father and their little wagon in the woods?

Soft voices reach her ears. The strum of a guitar is somewhere far away alongside a soft voice. A familiar melody comes forward in her consciousness. Her tongue feels heavy as she tries to sing alongside her mother's lullaby.

Someone strokes over her hot, wet forehead.

„It's alright little one. Rest now.“, her father's voice says close to her ear. Relief floods her anxious thoughts and y/n relaxes. I'm safe, y/n thinks.

„Don't worry, my love.“, her mother says from her other side, „It's just a cold. You've played too long in the snow with your brother.“

Right, of course. Y/n remembers. It snowed in the night and y/b/n and her snuck out of the tent before their parents woke up. They built a snowman and made snow angels. When her mother saw the two of them barefoot in the snow, she shooed them back inside and made them sit by the fire with a blanket and a hot cup of tea. Y/n fell asleep on her brother's shoulder.

Y/n leans into the hand that strokes her forehead.

„Brother, stay with me.“, she begs but she isn't sure if she only says it in her head. Dirty blonde hair shuffles through her hazy vision. Someone holds her hand. Y/n lets out a shaky breath.

It's alright. Y/b/n is here. You're safe., she thinks as she fades into a dream of snow-capped forests, frozen lakes and her brother's laugh in the distance.

~*~*~*~

Kirishima watches his leader with worried eyes. Y/n has been drifting in and out of consciousness all night. The moments that she's been awake a dull haze covered her eyes. She's been trying to speak but the words hardly leave her throat.

The hazier her gaze gets, the glossier Katsuki's gaze becomes.

Kirishima places a hand on his friend's shoulders. There's not much they can do right now. The healers are still changing the calf compresses every ten minutes or so, trying to cool down her body as much as possible. Behind Katsuki's back, the head healer told him that y/n either makes it through the night and will live or not. Kirishima didn't have the heart to tell his friend, but he's sure Katsuki knows without anybody telling him.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath and tears shimmer in her eyes. She calls out a name. She's been repeating the name for some time now. Katsuki just holds her hand a bit tighter.

„I think it's her brother.“, Kirishima tries to calm his friend, „I don't know much of her language but I think she's been saying the word for brother earlier“.

„I didn't even know she had a brother“, Katsuki says quietly.

„Maybe he isn't with her anymore. When the veil between the living and the dead is thin for a person, they often call out to those that went before them.“, Kirishima offers and almost instantly regrets bringing up death in front of his friend.

„Or maybe I ripped her away from him and now she has to die alone surrounded by strangers.“, Katsuki flatly points out.

For a moment, Kirishima doesn't know what to say. Of course, that's a possibility too. But until now that has never mattered when they took women. The survival of their tribe always came first for Katsuki. He didn't think much about the women's families. Kirishima was never sure whether Katsuki was so cold that he didn't care or if Katsuki didn't allow himself to care about it because it was expected from the leader of the tribe.

„Promise her to find him.“, Kirishima says without thinking. Katsuki turns his head back to him.

„What?“, he asks and Kirishima only nods. He doesn't offer his leader an explanation. Katsuki turns his head back to y/n and stares at her struggling form for a while before ordering Kirishima to leave them. Wordlessly, Kirishima leaves the tent.

Katsuki takes a long look at y/n before taking her hunting knife that she always keeps close. Carefully, he cuts a fine line into the inside of his hand. He watches the blood pushing through the cut. He takes a long look at y/n's face before pressing his bloody hand to her heart.

„If you survive tonight, I, Katsuki Bakugou, son of Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou, promise to find y/b/n and to let you go with him if you so please.“

~*~*~*~

There's the faint sound of metal hitting against each other and men clamoring in the distance but the tent lies in absolute silence. Y/n struggles to regain her vision for a couple of moments. She's feeling groggy and terrible. For a split second, she believes she's in her parent's tent.

Then, she remembers where she is. This is Katsuki's tent. Her head throbs from the lack of water. Her hand flies to her forehead and she puts it over her eyes in an attempt to milder the hammering feeling in her head.

She's been sick. She remembers waking up multiple times. She remembers waking up to unknown men pouring a thick, bitter fluid down her throat and a cool piece of cloth placed onto her head. She remembers waking up to Katsuki leaning over her watching her with furrowed, worried eyes. She remembers her brother's face in her periphery. Y/n wonders how much time has passed since Katsuki cleaned her wound. And for a very short moment, she wonders if her brother actually found her.

Quickly, she discards the idea. It was probably a fever dream. Something her imagination came up with in an attempt to calm her struggling body and mind. Y/n feels hot tears burning behind her eyes at the thought making her head feel worse.

Her hand flies to her throat where the wound is still wrapped in a tight bandage. She realizes that her head feels worse than the wound. Actually, she barely feels the wound at all. She wonders if it healed or if everything else just feels worse.

Groaning, y/n tries to sit up. I need water, she thinks. When she moves, there's a twitch of a body at her side. Only then she notices Katsuki who lies next to her face down. He's clutching her other hand. Katsuki groans and turns over letting go of her hand. Quickly, y/n pulls it away from him.

Katsuki stretches and turns his head to her.

When he notices that y/n is awake, he jerks up. His head spins for a moment from getting up too quickly. Immediately he sits up and pulls y/n close. He hides his face in her hair. Y/n let it happen and suddenly her heart feels heavy with grief. Grief, that her brother isn't here, that she's still stuck here, and that Katsuki hurt her when she was ready to trust him all the way.

It's impossible to hold back tears anymore and they stream down her cheeks and onto Katsuki's arm as he holds her. She wants to push him away but at the same time, she longs for the warmth and comfort Katsuki offers her right now. She wants to be held, wants him to pet her hair and tell her everything will be alright. And most importantly, she wants to believe him.

When y/n looks up, Katsuki is watching her with sorrowful eyes. Carefully, he wipes some tears away and his gaze falls onto the bandage on her throat. Softly, he traces the wound beneath the bandage and then carefully leans closer. Y/n's breath hitches a bit but she's too weak to pull back. Softly, Katsuki presses a kiss onto the bandage right where he hurt her not too long ago.

Katsuki's hair tickes her chin and y/n stares at the wall of the tent behind him. Katsuki's hand softly traces patterns onto her arm as he continues to hide his face at her throat. He's so soft right now that y/n wonders what possessed him to hurt her in the first place.

When Katsuki notices that y/n doesn't struggle against him, he pulls back and looks at her. Y/n holds his gaze. There's no fire or anger behind her eyes. Just exhaustion. Slowly, he leans forward, presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her close. Y/n can't help but lean into his touch. She's been feeling so alone. How can she refuse Katsuki's touch right now? She's too worn out physically and emotionally to fight him or the burning want in her stomach to be comforted by him.

Katsuki puts his hand into her hair and pulls his face closer to his. Y/n continues to hold his gaze. She can see worry, sadness and regret shimmering behind them. Maybe also something like relief. His nose grazes hers and she can feel his breath on her lips.

Katsuki is desperate to kiss her right now but he doesn't move forward. He's not sure if he's still allowed to touch her like that.

Y/n wants to be angry with him like she was before the fever took hold of her. She wants to yell and scream at him. At the same time, she wishes for nothing more than for him to close the gap between them and kiss her. But she's too exhausted to do anything other than lay still in his arms.

She wonders if she’s going mad. If she’s suffering some mental illness that makes her love a man who hurt her, wonders if maybe she’s always been mad like this which led to all her bad decisions. Or if the death of her parents and the loss of her people made her mad like that.

Y/n is ripped out of her thoughts when Katsuki’s lips softly graze hers. It's that moment that she decides that she doesn’t care and that it doesn’t matter.

I dug my own grave, now I have to lay in it.

Before Katsuki can realize what is happening, she closes the gap between them and kisses Katsuki deeply.

For a moment, Katsuki is frozen. He struggles to understand y/n's ever-changing emotions and actions. Only a couple of days ago she looked at him as if she wanted to murder him. He decides that he doesn't care and that it doesn't matter. Not after almost losing her.

He pulls her closer so that her entire body is pressed against him. He reciprocates the kiss and kisses her as deeply as he can. He tries to pour all the words that she doesn't understand into this one kiss.

They kiss until they can't breathe anymore and they need to pull apart. Katsuki softly pushes a greasy strand of hair out of her face, but it's stuck to her sweaty forehead. He offers her a small smile because he's not sure if this means she has forgiven him.

When y/n sighs and leans against his forehead, relief finally floods through his body.

My mate didn't reject me.

He pulls her into his arms and engulfs her with his much larger frame. Y/n leans into him and Katsuki pulls the blanket over them. They can stay here for a little while longer. At least until one of the healers comes in with another portion of this god-awful syrup.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[brighteuphony]

Sakura and Kakashi's relationship has a pretty contentious start.

Tea Country had just gone through a brutal civil war, and Konoha, eager to reestablish friendly relations (and trading routes), sent Kakashi to escort the newly seated Daimyo's advisor across tea country as she relays his will.

Kakashi then proceeds to go through an entire amusement parks worth of emotional rollercoasters when he discovers that Sakura is said counsel.

So not only is his previous student alive and well, she's his client. All his pack instincts are in overdrive and conflicting with the anbu ice in his veins- the one that demands immaculate professionalism. Sakura isn't particularly happy about his appointment, but she's got bigger worries- though they clash multiple times over the course of several weeks as they travel from town to town.

Sometime after Sasori gets buried, (so about a year or so of delicious tension) that's when their romance starts- though it's very tentative and Kakashi is the first to catch mad feelings as he realizes just how much he appreciates this new, changed Sakura (turns out that wasn't just professional admiration lmao). After their first few clashes, they get along very well, and Sakura's claws sharpen his teeth better than anyone else's.

Sakura is dry and funny, pragmatic in a way that the shinobi in him appreciates, carrying herself with confidence and deft that Kakashi finds extremely attractive. All these new feelings war with the guilt of leaving her behind when she was young, for not fighting hard enough- not to mention the complete inappropriateness of crushing so hard on a former student...

That and the fact that he enjoys it when she makes him heel- our mans is having a very hard time.

@blackdarjilingtea

@mimi-yaya

Once again, thank to everyone for all the kind words and all the support for this AU!! <3 <3

[eilorow]

Horny Hunk - Car

Caden was sitting in his car, exhausted after a workout with his best friend Thomas, who was way more athletic than him, but would always go out of his way to bring him along and give him tips. That sweet attitude might be the reason Caden had a pretty big crush on him, though he would never admit it. Thomas was a chick magnet, and wasn’t shy about it. So, Caden was happy just being his gym buddy, and tried to stop himself from checking him out too much in the changing room.

He saw Thomas making his way to his car. “You’re in a hurry,” he said, getting inside. “Well, I didn’t know your showers lasted 20 minutes,” Caden shot back playfully. “Hey! The girl at the reception was checking me out, so I went and got her number,” his friend replied, showing the little piece of paper. “I see, so you’re just desperate to get laid.” “Maybe you should try, you know, your dream guy isn't gonna just show up, you have to talk to people sometimes,” Thomas said with a smirk. “All right, shut up now, before I leave you on the sidewalk.”

-----

They had been riding for a few minutes, not saying much, until Thomas pulled out his phone and started admiring himself. He never took pictures, but he did love looking at himself, especially after a workout. Caden glanced to the side as he was styling his hair up and looking into his own eyes; he couldn’t help finding it attractive. “Dude, check out these biceps,” Thomas let out with a chuckle. He was flexing his arms repeatedly, showing his noticeable progress, glistening with sweat. Caden tried not to look again, but couldn’t help sneaking a peek. He loved how big they were, and yet still defined…

“Shit!” Caden thought. He was starting to get an erection, and this was not the time nor the place. “Stop doing that,” he said. “You’re being weird.” “You’re being weird!” Thomas replied. “You’re not even complimenting your friend’s awesome gains.” Caden kept his eyes focused on the road, but felt more and more uncomfortable in his seat. “You should feel them, bro, they’re so tight-” “Stop that! I am not touching you!” Caden snapped, though he was blushing slightly. Thomas grinned even wider, finding his reaction funny. “Come on, man! You don’t like it when I do that?” He grabbed his friend’s wrist and brought his hand to his chest. “Feel that, dude. Real muscle.” “Dude, stop!” Caden was actually getting horny now, and had to quickly turn his flasher on and pull over to the side of the road. “Cade, why are we stopping? I’m just messing with you!” Thomas said, playfully punching him on the shoulder. But Caden wasn’t paying attention anymore. He grasped the arms of his seat, a familiar feeling stirring inside him.

Caden tentatively glanced down at his crotch, and saw what he expected to see: his boner was straining against the front of his shorts, visibly getting bigger. He groaned as his transformation began. His hands widened slightly, gripping his seat even tighter, while his arms started packing on muscle rapidly. He tilted his head back, making a whining sound that slowly got deeper. His throat thickened slightly and his chest widened, better adapting to his large arms. Caden groaned again as he felt himself getting taller and felt his pecs filling up, his loose tank top now barely reaching his waist. A hint of abs, more than he ever had, was peeking from under it. His legs stretched too, his thighs getting bigger and his calves gaining definition. The young man, feeling his feet pushing against the front of his shoes, pointlessly tried taking them off by rubbing them together. He then had to spread his legs apart to make space for his bulge and his growing asscheeks.

Thomas was watching the scene, bewildered, and started getting scared, not knowing what was happening to his friend. At this point, Caden was almost as big as him, if not bigger. He tried exiting the car, but his door was locked. As he tried reaching over him to get to the lock, his friend grabbed his wrist with his right hand, his fingers thickening and strengthening his grip. He brought it down to his chest, and slid it under his tank top, on top of his pecs. “You should feel them, bro,” Caden said in his new deeper voice, smirking cockily. Thomas couldn’t help but admire the two mounds as he felt them ballooning under his touch, growing full of powerful muscle. He looked up at the growing man’s face, seeing his friend’s boyish features hardening into squarer, more manly shapes. A hint of stubble also covered part of his face. At this point, Caden was fully enjoying his transformation. He grunted and flexed his arms as he grew again, arms becoming powerful rods of muscle and shoulders bulging outwards. His shredded 6-pack abs were clearly visible just above his widening waist and remarkable cum gutters. He had to pull his legs up slightly as he grew taller again, his thickening thighs making it somewhat difficult. Two loud tearing sounds could be heard as his feet burst out of his training shoes, now several sizes too small. A third ripping sound was heard as his ass grew into a large bubble butt, tearing his shorts right down the middle and freeing his large erection that was nearing 9 or 10 inches now, by how it was tenting the front of his underwear.

Just as Thomas thought the growth was over, Caden let out an even deeper groan. His neck became incredibly thick, his shoulders broadened to the point where he barely fit in the driver’s seat, and his pecs blew up again. It was a miracle his tank top was still intact; it was stretched out over his chest and powerful back muscles, and his pecs were jutting out from the sides. It didn’t even reach his abs anymore, stopping right above his chiseled 8-pack. His legs, already confined in the small space, lengthened one last time, bringing him easily over 6’6. Below them, his feet finished their steady growth, tearing apart his short white socks. Finally, a last ripping sound was heard as his underwear gave way and his enormous 12-inch jock cock erupted from its confines, pointed straight up, the swollen head already leaking pre-cum. Thomas stared at it, feeling his own erection straining his shorts, almost against his own will.

Cade, the Hunk, horny in an almost feral way, grabbed Thomas by the back of the head and shoved him on his throbbing member. He struggled to even fit the thing in his mouth, because of how long and thick it was, but he started hungrily swallowing and licking it, experiencing the salty taste for the first time. Cade closed his eyes in bliss, pushing out deep moans from his enlarged throat. It didn’t take long before he pulled Thomas off and shot ropes of cum, again and again, all over his dashboard, tilting his head backwards and bellowing out a last groan. Thomas, seeing his friend’s humongous dick spurting cum with such intensity, came on the spot. They both panted, out of breath after their simultaneous orgasms.

-----

Caden sighed, using yet another tissue to clean the cum off his dashboard. He was back to normal now; it never took him too long. He shot a disgruntled look at Thomas, who still seemed a bit shaken and out of breath. “When I tell you to stop, you have to stop. You understand why, now?” Thomas nodded, looking at the stain at the front of his shorts. “I can’t believe you had to find out about this,” Caden added, annoyed, but blushing slightly. Thomas looked over. “When were you planning on telling me?” he asked. “Never!” snapped Caden. “It’s not the sort of thing I bring up in the middle of a conversation, you know. I don’t tell anyone that doesn’t need to know.” Thomas looked at him again, a smirk on his face. “Well, now that I know… Could we do this again sometime?”

[vagabond-umlaut]

toasty

sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm. sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.

gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine

"do you like that dress?"

you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.

you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.

particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...

stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...

he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"

you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.

you take a second bite, even bigger.

some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.

the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.

although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?

he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"

"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"

the addressed man pauses.

but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—

"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."

the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.

only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.

gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—

"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.

something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:

"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"

the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭

masterlist

[sandwhitches]

𝗰𝘄: language, references to sex, "kys" joke, references to drinking, a little bit angsty

<<< back ✱ menu ✱ next >>>

That year, cold weather came earlier than the one before. An icy breeze kissed your cheeks as it pushed along dry November leaves. By the time you were halfway to Rintaro’s, your lungs were stinging and your muscles ached from working in the cold. A couple of weeks before your second year of university started, his creaking car broke down for good, and he couldn’t pick you up to hang out like usual. Money that would usually have been spent on frequent upkeep of the shoddy vehicle would be repurposed into paying for rent in a bigger, shared apartment with another friend of his. 

It was pitch black out, you tried not to freeze as you biked uphill to the brick apartment building a few blocks away from your dorm. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Your roommate had asked you upon seeing you wrap yourself in a scarf that you’re sure was somebody else’s at another point in time, you cleared your throat, a guilty expression, “Math tutor.” You lied, fitting earmuffs over your head. This would be the third time that month you’d left after midnight to see said “math tutor,” your roommate had stopped believing you and you chose to ignore that. 

Truthfully, nobody needed to know what you and Suna were up to, though it wasn’t wrong. Things always felt better when it was just shared between the both of you. 

Your breaths came out in soft clouds as you chained up your bike, head perking up at the sound of leaves crunching towards you. “I’m freezing my ass off.” Suna gritted his teeth, hugging his own torso in desperate search of warm reprieve from the cold. You scoffed, eyes rolling, and stood up to slip your earmuffs off. 

Initially, these late nights were spent talking, pretending to do work, ignoring that nagging feeling that there should be some greater purpose to work towards. Suna let you sprawl out on the bed and he sat on his carpeted floor, penning down illegible answers to a class he’s repeating or furiously typing away at his laptop. Sometimes, it’d end with a nice buzz on Fridays, crushed cans littered across his floor that would be there until you woke up the next morning. 

Suna was your best friend. You thought of all the best friends you’d had before him, and it was never anything like this. With Suna, nothing was a mystery, you knew him perfectly well and it was scary that he knew you even better. You preferred it like that. 

It was a blisteringly cold January, you couldn’t bike to him because of the snow, but you couldn’t sleep without seeing him, either. On weekends, the two of you would walk side by side to his apartment, and you never told him that you felt bad that he had to walk alone to pick you up. You talked to ignore the cold, sometimes you drank to stay warm, and others you’d interlaced fingers and pretended like you didn’t notice it happened once you weren’t freezing anymore. 

Suna’s head was propped against the bed, he stared at the search bar on his laptop, finger hovering over the keys tentatively. You were on your back, head lolled over the edge of the bed as you viewed the world upside down, your head beginning to grow tingly as blood rushed to it. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” You murmured, eyeing the side of his face.

“How stupid you look right now.” Suna raised a playful brow, grinning as you sat up with an annoyed groan, “What are you really thinking about?”

You knew what he was thinking about. Suna kept getting disappointed. Actually, you both kept getting disappointed. You were beginning to lose track of how many times either of you had gone out with someone who turned out to be, for lack of better terms, an asshole or a bore. Long were the nights that the two of you sat on the roof of his apartment building, declaring that you were done with trying. You were done being disappointed.  Recently, something similar happened to Suna, and you hadn’t heard the end of his disappointment yet.

“Just wish I’d be able to know.” 

You’d talked about this a lot, a metaphorical innate ability to know if someone would really be worth it. It’d save you a lot of time and heartbreak, that much was for sure. 

“Y’know,” you started, criss-crossing your legs and slumping over, “something like that happened to me the other day,” Suna turned to look at you inquisitively “I was gonna go for this guy who was hitting on me, but my friend told me he made out with his last girlfriend’s sister…that saved me a lot of time.” You scoffed, still in slight disbelief. 

Suna huffed out a dry laugh at the situation, but there was something much deeper latent in the olive reflection of his eyes. You could practically see the cogs begin to turn before a lightbulb flashed and a mischievous grin twisted its way onto its face. You knew this look very well. It meant he was about to propose something wildly questionable, and of course, you would agree.

“That’s actually…” Suna turned back to his laptop, finally seizing the keys in a decisive manner.

“I have an idea. I need you to bear with me, okay?”

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ alr one of y'all is lying about being cheated on

✱ suna's favorite month that year was december because of the snowflakes that would stick to your eyelashes when you rode your bike over

✱ rest in pieces sunarin's rustbucket

✱ in the last text convo between the roommate and her friend in case anyone doesn't get the reference (for shame if you don't) "shining" refers to the ability in "The Shining" not suna and reader glittering telepathically at each other or wtv. (i think i'm so funny)

✱ atsumu's a good buddy (he's still listening to the soapbox, sorry)

✱ “me and the weird baddie i pulled by being equally weird” (they’re matching each others freak trust u will understand soon)

𝗮/𝗻: return to messiness (?) next chapter with more sus (i need you to know typing that out gave me heartburn) behavior from suna and y/n. i am obsessed with guess ft. billie eilish music video. ree thank you for beta reading again (i'll buy you a corndog or something as thanks idk wtf stop looking at me like that) listen to anthems for a seventeen year old girl by broken social scene, then anthems for a seventeen year old girl by yeule (and watch i saw the tv glow) okay i'll shut up i just have a lot to say today.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @zumicho @nectardaddy @moucheslove @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses @piopioo @lvtilzs @s777athv @localgaytrainwreck @reignsaway @savemebrazilhinata @pop-ghost @naweirdo @sunsribn @staileykout @milesmoralesluvs @chaconadine @aboutkiyoomi @m3gitsune @wizardhore @ineednanami @wakashudou @torkorpse @st4rdusttx @renkitsune @solaqes @sereniteav @eveyams @myromanempiree @saltypuffin1040 @nbcvs @gsyche @miiyas @starkyu @renardiererin @puppenpop (blogs in bold couldn’t be tagged, please check your settings!)

taglist status: open! (42/50, please send an ask to be added)

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader

word count: 9.7k

contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague

cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y

notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3

When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs. 

“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils. 

Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.

“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”

“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”

The most unbelievable thing of all?

“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”

Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.

“Have you ever heard of omens?”

Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear. 

“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.

You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.

You hate that you still have the dream.

You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face. 

“Suguru?”

His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen. 

Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.

You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.

He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found. 

Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.

“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”

Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community. 

He wouldn’t allow it.

“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.  

“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”

The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.

“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?

Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.

“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”

He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5. 

“How do you know about that?”

The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”

How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.

As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.

"Look at me."

He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.

"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"

A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."

The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.

"How?"

Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.

"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.

"There are more of you?"

"A couple dozen, yeah."

Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?

"How can you help me?" 

The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You hate her.

Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.

“Geto-sama!”

She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups. 

“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.

Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago. 

They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.

“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”

Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.

Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.

“About ready?” 

The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”

A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea. 

“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”

Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.

“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.

“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.

“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most. 

“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”

Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”

Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands. 

You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.

“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap. 

Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty. 

You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up. 

Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs. 

“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.

“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”

Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless. 

“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. 

“Yes sir.”

“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.” 

He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”

You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Geto-sama?”

The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”

Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.

“Why am I here?”

If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon. 

“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”

Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh. 

You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”

Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.

“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”

Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next. 

Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.

“Please be honest with me.”

Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?

Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.

“Do I mean anything to you?”

Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.

“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”

His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”

You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.

The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.

“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”

He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.

“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak. 

“So long, Suguru.”

He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.

“Can I touch you too?”

Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.

“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”

Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further. 

“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.

"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."

His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.

Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better. 

“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”

Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth. 

“I knew it was you from the moment we met.” 

He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.

Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.

“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”

Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority. 

Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag. 

“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.

“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live. 

Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”

The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.

“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”

You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.

Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.

Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.

He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.

He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.

Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone? 

Does it matter?

Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.

When’s the last time you felt like yourself?

Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him. 

He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown. 

“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”

The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.

Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”

It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?

Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.

“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”

Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“May I train with you today?”

Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder. 

“Why?”

The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.

“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”

Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you. 

Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.

Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.

“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression. 

“I already have. For everything.”

There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly. 

Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?” 

The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod. 

“I love you.”

I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.

“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”

“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”

And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.

“Do you trust me?”

This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.

“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm. 

“Do you love me?”

You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs. 

“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”

You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit. 

“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.

Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.

“Now, apologize like you mean it.”

Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.

“War is on the horizon.”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love. 

You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.

Just the way you like it.

“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”

For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.

“Do I sense disagreement?”

Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.

You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.

You certainly have.

“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does. 

“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”

The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.

“Look at me.”

Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.

“What do you think I should do with him?”

Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.

“Kill him, Suguru.” 

Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back. 

Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.

Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.

“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”

A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.

You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.

[wanderingelvis]

can i request a sort of innocent reader goes to graceland for the first time to meet elvis and she's all shy and nervous and elvis ends up being really sweet to her? maybe she gets scared or something from a thunderstorm or something like that? love ur writing btw!

this is a LONG one, buckle up guys!!

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 4,568

Pairings: Early 60s!Elvis x Innocent!F!Reader

You were nervous to meet Elvis Presley.  You were a friend of Jerry's little sister, so when she invited you to meet the King of Rock n' Roll himself, you couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.

"Oh he's real sweet Y/N, so kind, you're gonna just love him, I know it." Ruth said as you drove up to Graceland in a car that Jerry, and by default, Elvis had sent for the two of you. "But he's a very busy man see, he won't hang around for long." She informed you and you nodded, taking in what she was saying.

Ruth was a much bigger character than you, socially she would command attention and that's what she liked about having you as a friend, you were a little wallflower who was more than happy to be in her shadow.

You turned to the more confident girl in the opposite seat. "Are you sure he don't mind us stayin' the night? I mean, I know he loves you but I'm just a stranger." You asked tentatively.

"Oh be serious Y/N! 'Course he won't mind! Besides, he's probably not gon' even notice you I bet! Might think ya one of the staff!" Ruth giggled playfully, sometimes you felt that her words might be laced with malice but you'd brush it off, silently telling yourself that Ruth surely couldn't be like that. Surely.

When the driver parked up outside of Graceland, Jerry and Sonny came to greet the two of you as you gazed at the surroundings. Now, you'd never exactly struggled for money growing up but you'd certainly never, ever seen wealth like this.

You'd met Jerry a few times but never Sonny, however they were both lovely, with Sonny insisting on taking your bag for you as they took you into the mansion and passed the bags on to the maids in the house who presumably took them to the rooms you'd be staying in.

"Elvis! We're here!" Ruth hollered, running up to the figure that emerged from the kitchen as you lingered behind.

You gasped a little, catching the mans attention in the process, as you realised that you were in the presence of one of the greatest performers of all time. Your sweet excitement made Elvis smirk - he'd always enjoyed the effect he had on women although, if he had to admit it, he preferred women that were more reserved and shy. There was no shortage of women throwing themselves at Elvis and he missed the excitement of trying to win a girl over and he knew instantly when a girl was shy, and he knew instantly that shyness consumed you.

 "Hey there, honey," Elvis said in that low Southern voice, walking up to you and closing the space between the two of you. 

"H-Hi." You stuttered, instantly embarrassed that you couldn't get even one word out without letting your nerves get the better of you. 

Naturally you wouldn't admit this to Elvis, in fact, you hadn't even told Ruth, but you'd been practising in the mirror for the past week what you were you were going to say if you did in fact meet Elvis.

"Oh Mr Presley, you have such a lovely home, thank you for inviting me. My names Y/N, pleased to meet you."

"Ruth's told me so many kind things about you Mr Presley."

"I'm very grateful that you're letting me stay, it's very kind of you Mister." But all of those practises seemed to vanish from your mind as the King of Rock n Roll himself towered over you and you mentally kicked yourself for only managing to muster up a measly 'Hi' and you couldn't even get that right. 

"You gotta name honey?" Elvis smirked slightly.

"Oh um, yes, yes I do!" You smiled, getting all sweet and flustered in front of the big man who raised his eyebrow after you stopped speaking. "Oh!" You gasped, realising you hadn't even told him what your name was. "My names Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N." 

Elvis nodded, he was already fond of you. He'd known Ruth for years and whilst he wouldn't ever say it out loud, he found her a tad annoying, so when she'd asked Jerry to ask Elvis if her best friend to come to Graceland with her, Elvis was expecting someone with a similar personality, he was not expecting what was standing shyly in front of him. 

"Why don't we give you girls a tour, huh? You can see where yous are sleepin' and where everythin' is?" Elvis suggested and you were a little surprised at how welcoming he was and in all honesty, you felt bad for even thinking he would be too busy make an effort with the two of you.

Ruth let out a little giggle, batting Elvis' arm, "I know my way round Elvis! It's like ma second home, silly!" She laughed, but you noticed Elvis didn't exactly seem to reciprocate, just offering Ruth a small smile of acknowledgement. 

"Well, your lil' friend ain't been here before," Elvis said shortly before turning his gaze to you, making you blush and try to look anywhere but at the most famous man in the world. All of a sudden, your battered sneakers were starting to seem real interesting to look at. "Wouldn't want her to feel forgotten now, would we?" Elvis said lowly staring right at you, making you gulp nervously at the intensity that shrouded him, before he gestured for everyone to follow him, presumably to start the tour. 

Now, you knew that Graceland was going to be big, but you didn't imagine it would be this big. As Elvis and Jerry escorted you and Ruth around, you couldn't help but become a little overwhelmed at how many rooms there were. 

It was a lot to take in, leading to you staying as quiet as a mouse, admiring lots of the furnishings and pretty decorations whilst Ruth talked Elvis' ear off, telling him all about how she'd recently seen Roy Orbison perform and how his show was nothing compared to Elvis's. You were too preoccupied by gazing around the hallways and lavish rooms of Graceland to notice that as Elvis placated Ruth with curt hums and nods, he kept looking back and watching you. 

He thought you were an odd little thing, you appeared to be incredibly curious and wide-eyed whilst simultaneously jumping out of your skin any time anyone would make a noise that was even the slightest bit louder than a normal speaking volume.

You weren't even sure how many rooms you'd been shown before you all finally landed on the room that was to be the one that you'd be staying in. Elvis opened the door for you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, making you jump a little at the touch - something only Elvis noticed as you looked up at him with big eyes, offering him a sweet smile and blushing slightly with embarrassment at flinching at his touch before you turned to look at your room.

It was gorgeous, oh Lord, if only your Mommy could see this room, you thought to yourself. It had everything and overlooked the stables. Your eyes scanned the room with awe before they grew wider, setting on your all too familiar stuffed bunny, Hopper, placed on the bed by the pillows, on full display for everyone to see - presumably placed there by one of the maids.

"Is that... a stuffed bunny?" Ruth said, covering her mouth as she snickered at you, delighting in the embarrassment and the flustered panic you were experiencing. 

You scampered over as the group of Elvis, Jerry and Ruth watched you scramble to grab your bunny and throw it under the bedding to hide it. Elvis smirked a little, watching your pathetic albeit adorable attempt at making everyone believe that the little stuffed bunny on the bed wasn't yours.

"No, no I don't know w-what that is!" You stuttered, your back facing the others that were stood in the doorway.

It wasn't that you were ashamed of having your bunny, you just worried that Ruth might make it a bigger deal than it really was. 

"Sure, Y/N..." Ruth giggled. "It's cute that you need a teddy!" Ruth said, despite no truth being laced in her voice. 

"Ruth, that's enough." Jerry said quietly, realising that Ruth was delighting in belittling you.

"I'm sorry!" Ruth chuckled, throwing her hands in the air in mock defence. "I was just sayin', it's cute s'all, classic Y/N."

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of pink as you stood there, now facing Elvis, Jerry and Ruth, your soft pink lips parting to try and say something that would help the sticky situation you were in, but no words were coming out. 

Fortunately, a thick Southern voice started talking instead, your eyes fluttering up to be met with Elvis'. "I think we should show you girls the stables and see them horses, how's about it hm?" Elvis said, mainly to you, clearly saving you from having to say anything more.

You nodded tentatively, your chest rising and falling with anxiety. Elvis gestured with his big ring-covered hand for you to follow as Jerry and Ruth made a head start. You walked towards him in the doorway as he held the door open for you like a gentleman, letting you go past him and sending you a wink to ease your nerves.

Elvis continued his tour of Graceland by showing you the stables and all of the beautiful horses that filled them. The embarrassment you'd felt from the bedroom incident meant that you stayed lingering behind everyone else, quietly taking it all in and only speaking when spoken to. 

You just felt so silly. You didn't want Elvis to feel like he'd invited some silly little kid into his home, you just wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

Once the tour was over, you, Elvis, Ruth and Jerry all joined a few other members for dinner with Sonny instructing you to sit at the right hand of side of Elvis.

"That can't be right Sonny! You know what Elvis is like, he gets real funny about who sits next to him, he wouldn't pick Y/N, he don't even know her!" Ruth retorted in front of everyone except Elvis who had yet to appear for dinner.

"Actually hon, EP requested it directly." Sonny said bluntly, nodding at you to sit down in the chair. Both you and Ruth had a very confused expression on your faces, there had been times when Ruth was little where Elvis had let her sit in that seat but usually it was reserved for whichever girlfriend he had at the time or his right-hand man, Jerry.

You complied and sat down, keeping your gaze focused on the silverware as you felt multiple people staring at you from around the table and daggers being shot your way by Ruth, all until Elvis finally arrived, alleviating the tension.

Dinner proceeded with Sonny and Billy telling Elvis all about Nancy Sinatra's show that they'd just seen as well as Jerry chatting about the new RV he'd acquired for their next trip down to Las Vegas. You listened politely, fascinated by the world that currently surrounded you, all this excitement and oppulence. You couldn't wait to go home and tell your Mommy all about everything that was happening to you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice at your side.

"Say, tell me darlin', what are ya studyin'?" Elvis asked as he sat at the head of the table, with you by his side.

"Oh," You said, your eyes widening at the attention from all around the table suddenly turning to you. "I um, well, truth be told, I was studyin' History and even though it really is interestin' and all, I dropped out to take art classes instead, I like doin' art a lot more." You said fidgeting with your hands as you spoke, making Elvis realise that there was no way that your nerves were going to go away, not any time soon at least.

"Y/N does her own drawings and stuff." Ruth chimed in, interrupting you and making Elvis' attention turn to her. 

"Oh?" Elvis said, partially to you, partially to Ruth.

"She does these lil' cartoons and doodles, don't ya Y/N? They're great for little kids I think, they're that kinda level, like a starter drawing that you could teach a kid!" Ruth said and you furrowed your brow a little. Sure, you didn't think that you were the best artist in the world but your work wasn't just 'doodles', you'd spent a lot of time on learning how to draw well. 

"Well, I'll have t'get you t'draw a picture of me sometime soon in that case." Elvis proposed to you with a smile.

You opened your lips to reply, before Ruth got there first. "Oh Y/N wouldn't be able to do that just yet, unless ya want a goofy lookin' picture I suppose!" She giggled, her words cutting through you. "But maybe you'll get there Y/N! It's good that you're takin' classes and all ain't it? Maybe one day someone might think you're an actual artist!" Ruth said to you from across the table making you furrow your brow at the backhanded compliment. "I've been tellin' Y/N that she should come to Boston with me for my studies, said it would be good for her to get outta Memphis but she refuses to go on a plane! Says it gives her the spooks!" Ruth laughed, embarrassing you further as you knew that the man to your right owned his own plane. "But I'm still goin', got big plans see, I've got three different classes I'm gonna take..." Ruth said, chatting away about all her studies and her big plans, dominating the conversation.

As Ruth rattled on about all sorts, you felt your appetite become lost as you stared at the plate in front of you, trying not to let Ruth's words get to you. 

It was then that a large hand rested unexpectedly on your exposed thigh, causing a soft, quiet gasp to leave your lips, too quiet for anyone but Elvis to notice. You glanced up at the man who sent you a comforting wink and squeezed your thigh with his big hands, the numerous large, cold rings, nipping at your flesh. 

You shot the man a slight smile, appreciating the comfort. You'd always felt invisible when you were stood by Ruth. Everyone adored her and loved that her brother worked for Elvis and you, well, you were just you. Normally, you didn't really mind feeling invisible, you really didn't, but for some reason, Ruth had seemed to make it her mission to make you feel even more invisible than usual whist also exposing all of your biggest insecurities. But as you held eye contact with Elvis, you didn't feel as invisible, not in this moment at least.

Elvis offered you a reassuring nod, before turning his attention to Ruth to appear to seem engaged in whatever she was harping on about, all the while, keeping his hand firmly placed on your though, his thumb rubbing the smooth skin up and down slowly, his silent and secret attempt to comfort you.

The rest of dinner went by quickly, followed by games in the Jungle room that you insisted on just watching, knowing you weren't very good at playing pool and wanting to avoid making a fool of yourself.

But once you began to yawn every thirty seconds, you knew it was your bedtime, excusing yourself and bidding everyone goodnight, waving at them as you left, smiling at Elvis in particular who you'd decided was the nicest of all of the men.

By the time you were in your bed, you were exhausted from the events of the day, emotionally drained and ready for some sleep, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. 

Now, you'd never been very good with the dark, it scared you enough that your mother let you have a night light permanently, even if the bulbs for it were expensive. However, there were no night lights to be found in your room, making you clutch Hopper, your bunny as tightly as possible as you began to feel the nerves bubble up inside your small body. And just to add to your stress, the storm that had begun outside was becoming unbearably loud, with the wind and rain making you jump and begin to cry. The final straw, after hours of trying to be brave and try and possibly remain calm, despite failing miserably, was the wind rattling the stable doors, causing them to bang repeatedly. Even though it was just that, the stable doors, poor little you didn't realise and the banging noises made you jump out of bed in tears, desperate for your Mommy.

Grabbing onto Hopper and trying to routinely wipe away the tears and the snot that was coming from you, you decided to find the telephone you'd seen Jerry use earlier to call your mother, desperate for her familiar warmth and reassurance that she'd given you before in situations like these.

You softly padded out of your room, trembling as you tried to work out which way to go, the long, dark hallway confusing and scaring you. As you wandered about the house, you felt yourself getting all worked up all over again as you realised you'd gotten lost in the big, dark mansion. You let out soft cries and sniffles as you tried to find any room that you recognised until you finally came to a staircase where you could see some light coming from below it. 

As you walked towards it, trying to muffle and stop your tears, you realised it was Elvis, reading through various papers on a huge couch in front of a burning fireplace. 

Relief washed over you as you realised you'd finally found someone who could help you as your sniffles caught Elvis' attention who turned to you as you reached the bottom of the staircase, your figure now standing in front of him, dressed in nothing but your little, cotton night dress and your bunny in your hands.

"I g-got lost and um, I just, I just wanna call my M-Mommy." You whispered, trying not to let your voice crack after you'd already let a few tears fall down your flushed, pink cheeks.

Elvis was taken aback at the state of you, he knew you were a quiet, shy, nervous little thing but at this moment you'd seemed to regress a little in your behaviour, clutching the bunny that earlier, you'd been so desperate to hide.

Elvis walked over to you with concern in his face, crouching in front of you as you stood in front of him, rubbing away tears with a balled up fist and holding your bunny, Hopper to your chest with your other hand.

"Oh darlin', did somethin' happen? What's wrong hm? We can give yer Mommy a call, it's okay, it's gon' be okay, little one." Elvis soothed in a calming tone as you nodded with a couple of adorable hiccups escaping your small body.

"It was all rainin' and windy and loud and everythin' was dark and I'm scared of the dark and then I kept hearin' banging noises from outside my window and I got scared and I tried to find a telephone but I got lost and didn't know where to go and, and-" You began hyperventilating, reliving the scary night to Elvis who hushed you as he took your small hand in his large one and led you, in your little nightgown, to the couch in front of the burning fireplace. "M'sorry, I feel so stupid."

Elvis sat down beside you before he easily picked you up and brought you into his lap, rubbing soothing circles into your back, relaxing you for the first time since you'd arrived at Graceland and the drowsy sensation that was being caused, leading you to completely forget that you were sitting in the lap of the most famous man in the world. You couldn't help but start to space out a little, the exhaustion of the night catching up to you as well as the wave of relief that consumed you now that you felt safe with Elvis. Elvis watched as you began to blink absent-mindedly, the drowsiness catching up to you and your eyelids growing heavy and sleepy at Elvis' persistent touches.

Whilst in this very moment, Elvis felt a lot of genuine care and concern for you, he'd been thinking about you ever since you'd gone to bed in fact, he couldn't help but enjoy the effect he was having on you. He watched you as you practically melted into his touch, being too overwhelmed and sleepy to even try and resist letting your body rest on his. 

Your fingers were softly stroking through your bunny's fur in an attempt at self soothing as you lazily blinked your long, pretty eyelashes, feeling your mind go all fuzzy and mushy at Elvis' comforting you.

"Oh no darlin', you're not stupid, not stupid at all, I know that." Elvis hushed. "I know it does get awful dark here at night because we ain't near anythin' else. Must've been real scary honey, m'sorry." Elvis cooed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he began run his fingers through your hair to relax and calm you, making you feel even more dozy.

The combination of Elvis' gentle touches and quiet, soothing, low voice and the warmth radiating from his body was all becoming a bit much for you as you involuntarily felt your body leaning into his as you rested in his hold. Your back rested against Elvis' torso as you let your head lull by his collarbone, meaning you couldn't see the smirk that was across Elvis' face.

"Real scary." You murmured in agreement with Elvis as you felt the fear begin to disappear.

"Awh baby, I know." Elvis pacified. "You were a brave girl comin' t'me like you did, you're safe now honey, I got you." He assured you, making you feel all warm and tingly inside. 

You'd never sat in a mans lap before, you'd never been held like this in such a way before but truthfully, you weren't able to process any thoughts properly, not as long as Elvis continued to let his fingers roam your body, relaxing and calming you.

It was as if he'd put some sort of spell on you.

But he was right, you were safe now, you certainly felt that way with him - you didn't even feel embarrassed at having Hopper with you.

And as if he could read your mind, the man gestured to the toy i your clutches. "Looks like yer little friend helped though, hm?" Elvis said, making you realise that it had always been obvious that Hopper was your toy.

"M'sorry for lyin' earlier, I didn't wanna lie, I don't know why I did, but um, but he's my bunny, his name is Hopper. I had him since I was a little girl, and um, my Mommy gave him to me and she saved up all her money one Christmas to get him for me, because um, we didn't really always have that much see, and um, so Hopper is real special t'me." You whispered sweetly, looking down at your lap where Hopper rested.

Elvis kept his eyes trained on you, studying your sleepy expressions and the unconfident stutters in your voice that all appeared so endearing and adorable to him - and despite how annoying he found Ruth, he couldn't help but be silently grateful to her for bringing you to him.

"Dontchu worry darlin', I ain't gon' judge, I think it's very sweet." Elvis told you, causing you to lift your head up and smile up at Elvis. "Now, how about I try give your Momma a call?" Elvis suggested and you nodded.

After a couple of attempts but to no avail, you knew she was probably asleep, you didn't really want to disturb her anymore, you were actually feeling a little bit better in Elvis' company. You didn't feel as nervous around him, he was a lot gentler than you'd imagine him being.

After a while of relaxing in Elvis's hold, you found yourself quietly drifting off to sleep, the fireplace in front of the two of you dimming and the lack of heat causing you to instinctively snuggle closer into Elvis' chest. Following a period of silence, Elvis realised you were falling asleep and realised it was probably time to get the sweet little thing in his lap to bed and he was secretly hoping it would be his.

"Honey?" Elvis whispered, causing you to whine at the disturbance. "Oh little one, you can't fall asleep here, you wanna be in a big comfy bed, dontchu?" Elvis cooed.

"Nuh-uh!" You whined, your eyes still half closed as you wriggled about in Elvis' arms. "Wanna stay with you, don't wanna go back to the dark room." You mumbled, barely coherently.

Elvis knew it was as a result of your overwhelming day, he knew that, but it didn't stop the satisfaction build up within him at you admitting to wanting to stay sleeping in his arms. He also knew that you were just too innocent and too sweet to really understand what you were really saying and what it could lead to but he didn't care. 

"Awh, is my baby too scared to go back to her room?" Elvis murmured adoringly at you, he knew he was being forward with the pet names but he also knew you were in a situation where you were obviously feeling clingy and needy.

You nodded as your head rested on his chest, silently hoping that Elvis would let you stay, even just a little longer, on the couch with him.

"Well, would you like to sleep in my room with me tonight, sweetheart?" Elvis propositioned quietly.

You nodded again, making Elvis smirk once more before hiding it as you pushed your body up from him to face him directly.

"I-I-" You stammered shyly.

"What is it honey?" Elvis asked with a raised eyebrow, noticing that the sudden shyness was back.

"It's just, I don't wanna do any of that kinda stuff, y'know? If that's um, if that's okay, it's just I've never done anythin' like that before and I don't know, I just don't think m'ready, if that's okay?" You said, looking at Elvis with anticipation as you watched his expression soften.

"Oh baby, don't you worry your pretty lil' head, okay? We're just gon' sleep okay? I just wanna look after you little one, make sure you ain't gonna get scared anymore." Elvis assured you, making a weight lift off your shoulders as you reached forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a cuddle. 

"Now then honey, it's far too late for a little girl like you to be awake, let's get you to bed." Elvis chuckled after your sweet gesture of a cuddle, as he helped you off the couch and began to lead you to his bedroom.

"Elvis?" You murmured softly, stopping the two of you from walking any further down the hallway. Elvis hummed in response. "You're not gonna tell Ruth about this are you? I just think she might make fun of me for it or somethin', think I'm bein' a baby about the dark or somethin'." You said anxiously, looking up at Elvis.

"Well, in that case, it'll be our little secret." Elvis assured you as he took your little hand in his big one, leading you all the way to his bedroom.

[esamastation]

Part thirty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty

-

They've landed in Wutai after a frankly miserable plane ride in a windowless, seat-less troop carrier - which, why even call it a troop carrier when it's clearly not designed to be carrying people? The thing is filled with boxes and stuff, there was barely enough room to move!

Guess that's what happens with last minute takeoffs - you get what you get.

The first few minutes onboard were fine and kinda novel - being on a plane at all was kind of a mind trip, because, heh, plane, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, eat your heart out! But then it became just hours upon hours of boredom in a rattling tube of metal. Sword flying is clearly a superior mode of transport.

"We will have your things delivered to wherever you're going to be staying," Reno says, waving them off the plane, hiis attention fixed on one of the bigger boxes. "Rude, come give me a hand with this…"

"We should -" Rude starts to say, looking at the SOLDIERs.

"Yeah, yeah, now come give me a hand with this."

Angeal gives them an awkward, slightly relieved smile and then claps Sephiroth on the shoulder. "We better get out of the way," he says, and together they exit the plane.

Sephiroth had been bracing himself for a warfront, Angeal had even told him what to expect, but he… didn't actually know what that entailed.

Shinra troops had taken over a small town at the foot of Tamblin Mountain sometime in the past and are now using it as their forward base. That's where they land - in a dirt runway cut into the forest, just by the town. And it's…

It reminds him of old movies, the mixture of vaguely mixed Asian style buildings, with these modern canvas tents pitched in between them and on the roads. There are trucks that totally aren't jeeps that have worn grooves into soft  streets, unprepared for such traffic, making everything messy and muddy. They've erected fences all over the place, sectioning parts off, and there are  floodlights everywhere. There's also  robots patrolling the place. 

In the distance, on the rolling hills somewhere to the west, there are rice paddies and behind them mountains. All around them there's a lush wall of green that looks almost like a rainforest. It actually might be rainforest! It would fit the allegory!

The mental, ethnic vertigo is so strong for a moment that Sephiroth doesn't know which way to turn to look. He doesn't know what to think. Mostly he just feels kinda… unnerved.

Angeal returns to his side before he even realises he'd gone somewhere. "I talked to the Colonel. Come on," Angeal says, clapping him on the shoulder. "They've set up a place for us. We'll… debrief there."

"... Hn," Sephiroth answers, and follows him.

There's a lot of Shinra troops milling about, infantry mostly, but some SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds too. They all stop to stare. Some of them look excited, but most just look tired and dirty and worn.

Sephiroth wonders if the Colonel is in charge of them. Actually, it might be that they're now in charge of everyone here! They're SOLDIERs First Class. Isn't that the highest rank? He can't remember if Sephiroth being a General was fanon or canon, but hasn't he been involved with the war since the beginning?

Would he have to give orders now, orders to march, to fight… to kill?

Angeal shows him to a house that was clearly someone's home before Shinra took the place over. It's a single room with tatami floors and rice paper walls, and the military bunks clash with the aesthetic horribly. Their pillows are clearly seat cushions.

There's a fancy looking kimono stand that's being used to hang bags and ammo satchels.

"What happened to the people who lived here?" Sephiroth can't help but ask, staring at the stand and wondering where the kimono had gone.

"They abandoned the town ahead of the troops," Angeal says.

Sephiroth looks at him and then at the room. Did they really, or is that a nicer thought than they were all executed? "... Right," he says and picks up the seat cushions from the bunk, piling them up in the corner - wondering if there was a table here, and what happened to it.

"Are you alright?" Angeal asks.

Probably not! "What's our mission here?" Sephiroth asks, picking up bags and satchels from the stand and carrying them outside.

"... We have a day to acclimate. After that, there's a number of things that need to be accomplished," Angeal says, subdued, and takes out his phone. "We can start slow - there's no major engagements being planned just now, no one will mind."

"Mn, and what does starting slow mean?" Sephiroth asks, as he picks up stuff around the hut and gets rid of it.

"Well, there's a number of monster extermination requests around here - Wutai wildlife is high-level, and it's rumoured that they're being intentionally bred by Wutai people. They've been attacking patrols."

Sephiroth gets rid of most of the random crap in the hut and then considers the bunk beds. They're ugly and probably unpleasant, but… they have to sleep somewhere. 

It takes just one swing of Masamune to improve the situation immensely.

"Um," Angeal says as Sephiroth finishes separating the beds and moves one of them to the other side of the hut. "... Why?"

"I am not sleeping in a bunk bed," Sephiroth says simply and looks around. "... Do you think they have folding screens around here?"

 Angeal arches his brows. "I don't know for sure. I suppose we could ask around? I think there's a storage house where they've put the collected, um," he clears his throat. "Things that will be sent to Midgar eventually. Maybe we can requisition some of it."

Things to be sent to Midgar…  that's nice. That's a nice way to say the spoils of war, huh. 

Sephiroth looks away. It's the way of war, he knows that, nothing unusual about it. It happened in PIDW too - cut out all the smut and stupidity, and all Binghe did was plunder and loot and pillage. When he wasn't being handed tributes, anyway. It's just par for the course! Right? Right…

"You…" Angeal starts and then sighs and puts the phone away. "How about I'll go get a screen for you, if there's any available. Do you want anything else?" He sounds very indulgent and understanding.

"Two screens. And a table," Sephiroth says without facing him, feeling like a sullen little kid being placated. "... Thank you. Can you ask someone to get rid of the - stuff outside?"

"I'll take care of it," Angeal promises. "You just… take a moment to make yourself comfortable, okay? There's no rush."

Aka, pull yourself together, man, you're looking really pitiful right now. Thanks, Angeal-bro.

Sephiroth's waits until Angeal is gone before sinking down to sit on one of the beds, putting his head in his hands.

Though they'd not seen much from the plane, what with it not having windows and all, he can see it in his mind's eye now. Burned villages smoking in the jungle, scorched fields, muddy paddies ruined. He'd never cared much for any kind of war stuff, but he'd seen his share of first person shooters and letsplays.

It all feels very real all of a sudden.

And he's supposed to be the Big Bad here! The Demon of Wutai! Who knows how many people he's already killed in this war! And sure, it is a war, and that's what happens, and yeah, he has killed before as Shen Qingqiu, but -!

Going to war on behalf of the America-allegory of the situation? The invader, the hostile occupier, the - the evil planet-sucking dystopian megacorporation?!

Dragging his hands down his face, Sephiroth sighs and looks up.

There are calligraphy scrolls hung up on each side of the door. One reads Integrity and the other Honour. Sephiroth stares at them miserably for a long moment.

Yeah.

He's so going to end up defecting here, isn't he? Four days, four days in this world, and he's doing to fuck up the whole plot, right here and now. It must be some kind of record! But where the fuck will be even defect to? The Demon of Wutai, hello?! The locals probably want his head on a spike!

"I am so fucked," he mutters wretchedly and hangs his head.

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

Heal - V

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (female)

MASTERLIST

🪡 Summary: You and Bucky can no longer ignore what has happened, and the truth must emerge.

Warnings: Discussion of past sexual assault, nudity, angst, mostly fluff to wrap this series up

Word count: 1,388

🫁 Part IV

When you awoke the next morning, you were incredibly uncomfortable. Your head felt foggy, and you were tangled in sheets that wrapped around your naked body. You never usually slept naked, so the sight stopped you - but when you turned your head to see the sleeping form of you alpha beside you, it all came rushing back.

"B-Bucky..." you breathed out with a sigh of relief, your hand unconsciously going to touch your new mark, fresh yet painless already. He stirred slowly, rubbing his eyes, before scrambling from the bed and shoving himself up against the wall.

"Wha-what?" Confused further, you pulled the covers up to your chin, suddenly self conscious. Had you dreamt it all? Had your alpha never come to save you? Had you lured him here in his sleep?

With a gulp, Bucky surveyed your body, and was pleasantly surprised to see that you appeared to be in no pain and seemed much better than the previous evening.

"How, er, how are you feeling?" He ran a hand through his hair shakily.

"Better, thank you. Will you sit?" You gestured to the dent he had made in the mattress, and he hesitantly obeyed.

"I know that must have been hard for you," you started, not sure if he was ready to be touched yet but knowing you needed to get out what you needed to say before he could beat himself up further. "But you did what you had to. You saved me, and I know you didn't want to do what you did again, but it was the right thing."

He opened his mouth to protest, but you continued before he could. "And I'm sorry too, Bucky. I'm sorry after all the work you've put in, He still haunts you sometimes. And I'm sorry that you have to feel that pain that He initiates. And yes, I'm sorry that was how it had to happen, but I'm not sorry that it did happen.

You're my alpha, and I'm your omega. Let's be honest here, we've been denying that for a while. What happened was probably inevitable sooner or later. And what He made you do was horrific, and it's going to take me some time to get over that as well, but we will get over it if we stick together. Just...just please don't leave me again. That I don't think I can get over."

You were both crying now, wetting the sheets beneath you. Tentatively, you reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek, relieved when he closed his eyes and relaxed into you rather than shy away.

"Leaving you is the last thing I want to do, doll, but I can't risk hurting you again. Like you said, He is still in me, and I guess He ain't going anywhere any time soon. What kind of mate would I be if I can't even protect my omega from her own alpha?"

"A pretty shitty one, sure. But a mate who actively works to stop that from happening? I can't think of a better alpha."

"You shouldn't forgive me."

"I don't. I don't forgive you for leaving me, even though I understand why you did. And I don't forgive Him for driving you to do what you did, but I don't place that blame on you. But fuck forgiveness. This is bigger than forgiveness, this is bigger than me or you or Him. This is about us, and I think we can handle this. What you say?"

"I love you, doll. But I don't know what to do," he wept, and you pulled him into the crook of your shoulder, stroking his hair.

"Then I'll tell you what to do. We're going to Wakanda, tonight. We're going to tell Shuri what happened, and she's going to work with you to get Him out of your nightmares. This is nothing compared to when you still had the trigger words in you, so I don't question that this will be a walk in the park for her.

And this time, I'm going to be there too. I'm going to stick with you, through the good days and the bad, because I am not scared of Him, and I'm certainly not scared of you."

He pulled off, straightening himself up, his eyes suddenly afraid. "What if I don't wanna go back there? What if all those memories only make it worse, or what if she can't get him out of the nightmares...you said it, theres no trigger words now, maybe He's just in me and He's never going to go away. What if I can't go?"

You knew it would come to this, and you'd been preparing for it through the fever. The only thing that had got you through the lucid moments were thinking about your future with Bucky, coming up with a way to make it work for the two of you. You knew how much he would be beating himself up, but you couldn't ignore your own trauma either.

"Then we break this bond medically, and I leave. This is an ultimatum, Buck. Wakanda, or I walk."

His eyes grew wide again and he chewed on his lip. That was fair, after all. But it was scary. Petrifying, even.

"Okay. Tonight, we go."

You smiled up at him, planting a nervous kiss on his cheek. You couldn't deny that you were still hesitant with him sitting there, so conscious of what he could do. Yet at the same time, you just wanted to climb into his lap and crawl into his body, never letting go and refusing to ever part ways with him. One day you would allow that feeling to take precident, just not quite yet.

-

Bucky closed his eyes and let the dying sun soak his skin, feeling the wind tug at his outgrown hair and whistle in his ears. His flesh hand played with the soil beneath him, cold compared to the day's heat. In the distance, he could hear the hum of a song, one of the Wakandan mothers singing her children to sleep, while a goat stew, something he had become a master at cooking, was boiling away in the village below.

"You ready?"

The voice should have ruined the peacefulness up on the mountain, but instead it made him smirk unconsciously. He didn't flinch when your arm snaked around his neck, and his eyes remained closed. He even trust himself to move his metal arm to rest on your knee, rough and bruised from helping out on the farms over the months the two of you had been there.

"I'm ready, doll."

Like they usually did, your fingers went up to play with his knotted locks, longer than you'd seen them in a long time. "We don't have to leave, you know. You were right, it is incredibly peaceful here."

Bucky opened his eyes as he turned his head, making sure your glowing features were the first thing he saw.

"No, I'm ready. Our lives are back home. Plus, we have to test if all this worked, right?"

You sniggered with a shake of your head. "Oh Bucky, you know it worked. Shuri cleared you weeks ago."

"But we still have to complete the final test - going back to that room."

"True," you shrugged, nuzzling into him. "But between us, I'm pretty sure we've had enough therapy to beat anything."

Bucky kissed the top of your head, once again overcome with gratitude. He had been given yet another chance, right when he thought he deserved it the least. You had stood by him, and in turn he had stood by you. Although his nightmares were much less frequent and never so violent anymore, you still woke in the night in tears, and would never fail to break his heart. But it was true - you were stronger together, and that bond was healing in many ways.

The sound of a horn below jolted the two of you from your thoughts, and he scrambled up, holding out a hand. "C'mon, omega, lets get home."

Taking it graciously and purposely using his metal arm to wrap around your waist, you set off down the hill, kicking dust up into the sunset as you made your way to the jet waiting to take you to the rest of your lives.

The End

Bucky Taglist

@elliebee01 @littlemiss-yeehaw @lolitsthings @missvelvetsstuff @spnexploration @justlovelifeblog @1-800-call-a-milf @raajali3 @broadwaybabe18 @vicmc624 @gostodosopa @kjah97 @sageandravens @kaz11283 @bucksdonkey @alright-i-guess @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @icequeen1371 @deandreamernp @almosttoopizza @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @lexikizerbarnes @lazycarolinamoment @lydklein1 @cjand10 @needyomega @tesseract69

[ode-to-fury]

Was that Gale’s Grandad?

Summary: This line has been stuck in my head for months so here is whatever this is. Karlach pov. Based on my Tav but again it’s fairly vague so

Karlach watched with interest as the old man gestured at Gale, then at Tav, then into the air. She watched Gale heave a deep sigh, and Tav’s frown become deeper and deeper as the old guy talked. He had a damned good beard, if you asked Karlach. Obviously the news he had wasn’t the best, but… another day for the likes of them, huh?

She watched as Gale said something with a certain look on his face, a look Karlach thought she didn’t like. Seemed Tav didn’t quite like it either, cause soon she was frowning even harder, and obviously getting annoyed.

Gramps chose then to say his goodbyes and whoosh off into the afternoon.

Tav turned to Gale, frowning at him. An impressive frown, when it came to it. And Gale… Karlach winced when he said something with a determined expression on his face, gesturing decisively in front of him, and Tav threw up her hands.

Not great with women, was he?

Tav stalked off, straight toward the fire, and Karlach walked over too, not above a bit of gossip. Bonus points if she could find out the details before Shadowheart did.

“So…” she said, walking up to Tav’s side.

“Was that Gale’s grandad?”

Tav fixed her with a Look. She was damned good at those, too. Had the jaw for it, sort of square and hard. Karlach smiled, and pretended not to notice. It was a damned good Look, but you couldn’t beat the ones she’d seen in Avernus, unfortunately.

“Not exactly,” Tav grated out, somehow managing it between clenched teeth.

“That was Elminster Aumar,” she continued. “Come to tell Gale he needs to sacrifice himself for Mystra’s forgiveness.”

Karlach blinked.

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” Tav ran a hand through her hair, making the brown shimmer golden where it caught the light.

“Detonate the orb, kill this Absolute, Mystra deigns to forgive him.”

She spat into the fire, a thick gob that made Karlach proud, and a little sick.

Sacrifice himself for Mystra… gods, the poor man. He could be a bit of a twat sometimes, but she didn’t think exploding was a fair punishment for that. Being asked something like that by someone he trusted, someone he’d loved… if anyone could relate, Karlach could.

“Poor Gale…” she said, aware of Tav’s fists clenching in the corner of her eye, a muscle ticking in her jaw.

Karlach put a hand on her shoulder, grinning.

“I bet he could do with some cheering up. Oh! Oh! Tell him I haven’t read a book since secondary school and watch his face melt off!”

Karlach flashed an even bigger smile at Tav, but the other girl just frowned deeper, her lips a hard line.

“Go tell him yourself,” she said, and there was a deep sadness behind the bite in her voice. “I want nothing to do with him. Ever. Fair warning, though, he’s being insufferable about it.”

Karlach opened her mouth to respond, but at the glint in the younger girl’s eyes thought better of it. Instead, she let go of her shoulder, squared her own, and walked over to Gale with a practiced grin on her features.

He started slightly as she reached him where he was reading in front of his tent. Staring glumly at a page was a better description, though, since his eyes weren’t even moving across the page.

His eyes met hers, and the first thing she saw there was fear, before he mastered himself enough to smile.

“Karlach!” Deceptively cheery. Alright, she could do that. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

She stared for a second. Shit. Hadn’t thought this far ahead, had she?

“Help,” she blurted, then, when he raised an eyebrow expectantly, realised that wasn’t much better than no answer.

“Help… with… a book!” She said, smiling more out of appreciation for her quick thinking than anything else.

“I was wondering if you had one for me to read, since I haven’t picked one up since secondary school.” She shrugged.

“Figured it was time I picked up the old… ink… I suppose.”

Smooth, Karlach. Really smooth.

He stared at her for a moment, eyes wide.

“You haven’t…” he grimaced. “Please tell me that was an ill timed joke.”

She shrugged as innocently as she could manage.

“Wish I could, soldier.”

He sighed, fingers moving up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Weave help us all. Hold on a moment.”

He tried to stifle the groan as he got up to go through the books he had. The same way Tav did when she had to get up quickly. Karlach shook her head at the two of them.

Idiots.

As he was looking, she wondered what would be the best way to approach the topic, then settled on direct. The way she did everything in life.

“…So,” she started innocently, “You really thinking about going through with it, are you?”

He stilled, crouched over a pile of books.

“Ah,” he said, sitting back on his haunches. More athletic than she’d given him credit for, if she was being honest.

“I see. Tav put you up to this, did she?” He stood up from his knees with another stifled groan, and frowned up at her.

“Well, you can tell her I don’t need, nor do I want, any help making this decision.”

“Actually, she told me not to come over here. Said you might get…” she paused, trying to find the right word. “Touchy.”

“I’m not touchy!” He snapped at her.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, popped a hip, and he took a breath before continuing.

“I’m merely… irritated,” he said, sounding as much, “by the fact that everyone else seems to think they know what is best. That she seems to think she knows what is best.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the fire, then turned away from Karlach, toward the entrance to his tent.

“Why don’t you explain it to me, then?” She asked gently, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m your friend, Gale. If you really believe this is the best thing to do, then I want to hear about it! Why do you care so much about Mystra’s forgiveness?”

“Because… because magic is- it’s who I am!” He threw his hands in the air as he spun to face her again.

“My goddess gave me an order. Mystra gave me an order, and it is not my place to defy her.”

He took another deep breath, and his dark eyes seemed to look far away from their little camp in the mountains.

“I made a mistake, Karlach. I made a terrible, terrible mistake, and if my death is what it takes to make it right, then by the Weave I will do everything in my power to see it come to pass. If my death is all it takes to overthrow this Absolute then I have a moral duty to see it through.”

And he stood there, wrapped in self-righteousness and holy purpose with a lethal bomb in his chest, almost convincing himself that this suicide mission was really what he wanted, and Karlach couldn’t help but feel the biggest surge of pity for him. For both of them, if she was honest.

“Ugh,” she said, putting a hand on her hip as she studied him. “Wizards.”

He blinked, shut up for a moment. For once.

“Sorry?” He asked.

She sighed.

“Gale… look, as someone who knows what it feels like to have a bomb in their chest… you have so much to live for. And now that the orb isn’t a problem any more, you can live for it. So why would you throw it all away, just like that, on the whim of a goddess?”

He grinned at her, a sad little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Pity, since he was better looking when he was smiling.

“Huh,” a self deprecating little laugh. “Until a few weeks ago I was a hermit living in his tower with no one but his cat for company. What do I have to live for?”

And as if the gods willed it to happen, at that moment a bark of Shadowheart’s laughter reached them from the fire, and Karlach looked over to see her standing next to Tav, grinning. Tav was trying to hold back a smile of her own, trying, and failing miserably to hide the dimples in her cheeks, the twinkle in those grey eyes of hers.

Karlach watched them for a second, thanking whatever gods were up there for giving her friends like the two of them, especially now.

She turned back to Gale, and he was staring over at the fire with half a grin on his face, his eyes filled longing, with so much adoration she wanted to puke almost. Fuck, he was an idiot. Both of them were idiots. Fuck.

“Oh, I dunno,” she said, unable to stop a knowing little smile from forming on her lips. “I can think of at least one thing that might be worth living for.”

He started, his eyes leaving the fire, and a blush creeping over his bearded cheeks as he looked down at the ground, avoided her eyes. It was actually sort of adorable.

“You know,” she said softly, gently, “if I could find someone to look at the way you were just looking at her, I think I’d find every reason imaginable to stay alive.”

“Come now, Karlach,” he shook his head, like she was a child who hadn’t quite figured out how the world worked yet. She saw his eyes drawn almost involuntarily back toward the fire.

“What type of man would I be to choose one woman over the fate of the entire world? Or, if Mystra is correct, the fate of all Nine Realms?”

Karlach had never been one to mince her words. Or hide her feelings. Or be shy about the important stuff. Especially now.

“The type of man who’s in love, Gale.”

Another bark of laughter reached them from the fire, and this time it was Tav’s. This time her head tilted back as she laughed at something Shadowheart had said, and the light from the fire and the setting sun caught her just right, and she looked like a golden statue of herself, her eyes screwed up with laughter. It was such a truthful, open moment that Karlach found herself grinning along.

When her eyes opened, they met Gale’s across the fire, and she frowned immediately and looked away.

But not before Karlach saw the same longing she’d seen in Gale’s eyes. Not before she saw the hurt.

“The type of man who’s loved back,” she said quietly.

Gale didn’t reply, and she didn’t expect him to, but maybe she’d given him something to think about. Maybe she’d given the two of them a chance to be happy, at least for a little while. That was more than most people ever got. More than Karlach had thought she’d ever get.

That was worth something.

“‘Sides,” she continued more jovially, “She’s probably going to end up being the one that saves all of us anyway, I’d bet. Now I know she probably already told you this, but I’ll say it again. We’re going to find a different way.”

And with that she started toward the fire, because she had a bomb in her chest, too, and she’d be damned if she wasted even a second of her new life worrying about it. She’d be damned if she wasted even a second being sad about it, instead of living, instead of feeling, instead of hoping.

She supposed it was up to Gale to want the same.

“Karlach!” He called after her when she’d taken a few steps. She stopped, turned back to him, already grinning at the fragile hope in his eyes.

“Do you… you truly believe she… returns my feelings?” He asked her.

“I think you’re an idiot if you don’t, soldier.”

Ugh. Wizards.

[eilorow]

Horny Hunk - Shower

Johnny opened the bathroom door and slowly stumbled in, still groggy. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up, but it wasn’t enough. As he stared into his own blue eyes, he heard quiet steps behind him. His boyfriend, Ricky, threw his arms around his chest and gave him a kiss on the neck. “Good morning,” he whispered in his ear. Johnny smiled; nothing felt better than waking up with Ricky every day. The couple got ready, shaved, brushed their hair, until they were ready to make breakfast.

However, as Johnny was about to exit the bathroom, his boyfriend grabbed him by the hand and stopped him. He pulled him back in slowly, giving him a naughty smile: “You know, we have a bit of time, maybe we could…” Ricky started, and was cut off by Johnny: “No! You know I have an important meeting this morning.” Although his voice was forceful, his body language was telling the opposite story; he let himself sink into Ricky’s arms. “It’s been forever since we did it in the shower. And you never have time anyway.” Johnny knew his boyfriend was saying the truth, and he did miss their morning ritual. “All right, but let’s make it quick,” he eventually said, with a naughty smile of his own.

Both guys hurriedly undressed before hopping in the shower together, kissing slowly, but with more and more vigor. It wasn’t long until the steamy heat of the shower got both their dicks up to full length, Johnny thrusting his 5-incher in the direction of Ricky’s girthier, but shorter 4 inches. He got closer to his boyfriend, twitching with anticipation. They looked into each other’s eyes, waiting for the fun to begin.

It wasn’t long until, through the dull noise of the shower, Johnny heard Ricky’s first groans. The beginning was always his favorite part; it felt like his boyfriend was getting ready to give into his animalistic urges. He felt Ricky’s hands grip tightly around his shoulders, fingers thickening, becoming more powerful. Ricky kept groaning; he tilted his head forwards, shuddering, as his back expanded and stretched simultaneously. They were about the same height before, so Johnny could well see his back muscles pulsate as they grew, becoming smooth and detailed. Ricky’s growth kept going into his shoulders and arms, cramps forcing him to let go of Johnny. His chest, bent forwards, kept heaving up and down while his pecs formed and his abs flexed, outlining the beginning of a 6-pack. Johnny, his arms freed, took the opportunity to feel his boyfriend’s new bouncy mounds of muscle and fat.

As his growth continued, Ricky’s groans slowly transitioned into moans, synching with the way his body was moving back and forth. He stumbled slightly, his legs stretching unevenly, while Johnny held him upright; the Hunk sometimes needed a bit of help before his thighs and ass ballooned outwards to support his increased body weight. His feet finally grew as well, stabilizing him while his toes sprawled along the floor. Ricky brought his head up to look at his boyfriend, his eyes full of lust and unbound excitement; he was now a few inches taller than him, standing at 6’1 compared to his 5’10.

Johnny grinned broadly; he shot a glance down at Ricky’s dick, pushing forwards, almost double its original size now. He grabbed it tentatively, stroked it a few times, then brought his hands back to his boyfriend’s chest, ready to feel the rest of his transformation. Ricky pushed out a few guttural moans, getting deeper by the second, as his neck thickened and his face started restructuring, getting more handsome. His usual round and rosy cheeks were now sporting very noticeable dimples, outlined by a sharp jaw. His lips twisted into a cocky smile as he flexed both his arms, the desire to show off taking over his calm self. His biceps grew even bigger, rivaling those of most adept gym goers in a matter of seconds. His pecs also kept growing, his nipples becoming hard, pointy and sensitive. Johnny wrapped his lips around one, licking it, while running a hand over the deepening crevices of his boyfriend’s abs. Ricky, or Rick, at this point, grunted in pleasure, uttering a lustful “oh yeah” before grabbing Johnny’s head with one hand, pushing him in further while his hands grew again, fingers grabbing at his boyfriend’s wet hair.

Johnny felt Rick’s cock poke at his crotch; the Hunk had grown taller yet again, reaching 6’3 and easily towering over him. At this point, both of them were oozing pre-cum, mixing with the warm water of the shower. Hornier than ever, Rick used his powerful hand to bring Johnny’s face into his crotch, inviting him to suck on his throbbing member. His boyfriend obliged, lips wrapping around the thick dick he knew wasn’t even at full size yet. As he got sucked, Rick felt the final dregs of the transformation hit him full force, his thighs and ass getting nice and plump, his face finishing its remodeling by adding a bit of stubble on his chin. Johnny was sucking like a pro; years of experience with a Hunk had nullified any gag reflex he used to have. As he felt his boyfriend’s member reach its final size of 9 and a half inches, he spat it out, standing back up and getting his hand ready to finish jerking his own cock. Rick was faster, however; his two hands grabbed one dick each and pumped expertly, feeling climax coming. The boyfriends leaned into one another, meeting for a lustful kiss as they both came simultaneously, cum washing over their bodies and flowing down to the drain below. Rick smiled, finally spent, holding Johnny with one hand and pushing out the last drops of cum out of his cock with the other.

-----

After Ricky got back to normal and they both finished cleaning up, Johnny turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As he grabbed a towel, drying off, he looked in the mirror again and couldn’t help but chuckle. He always thought shower jerk-off sessions with Rick were the weirdest way to start the day, but they were so hot, he couldn’t help doing it again. He went back to their bedroom and got dressed, feeling way more energized than earlier. As he made his way to the kitchen, he heard noise coming from the bathroom. “Weird,” he thought. “We were done showering like 10 minutes ago, why is he still in there?” Johnny opened the door and saw Rick, fully hunked out, admiring himself in the mirror. He looked at him and gave his typical cocky smile, stepping closer…

“Ready for round two?”

[bunny-lou]

LITA AU - mechanic Phayu flirting with pit bunny Rain

Love in the Air AU: Phayu is used to pit bunnies being pretty, flirty, sweet. He's never met one so bratty.

(I'm super into Rain's bratness, but even more into Phayu's brat-tamerness and I also 0 knowledge of street races, illegal or otherwise, and this rambling depicts pit bunnies as people who have been hired to help host/entertain racers. Imagine them like Hooters waitresses.)

---

Phayu has been around pit bunnies as long as he's been a mechanic. Some pit bunnies belong to specific racers, but more of them are hired by Pakin's men to host. The pit bunnies play nice with the big shots, the best spenders. They fetch drinks and flirt and bat their eyes because rich, cocky men place much bigger bets when they want to impress the pretty young thing at their side. Phayu thinks he's on good or at least neutral terms with all of them. He doesn't have much reason to interact with them, but none have ever been rude to him.

Until a new pit bunny comes along.

Phayu catches sight of him sometimes; he's one of the only boy pit bunnies at these races and he wears shorts so tight that it's hard to not notice him. Phayu tries to be as distant as possible, know as little as possible, so he never goes out of his way to say hi, despite appreciating the boy's smooth legs and the brief ideas of those legs wrapped around his waist.

The pit bunny is pretty, but that's nothing special. Phayu has sweet, pretty boys already at his beck and call.

But mouthy, pretty boys are a little more fun.

Phayu has to visit one of the few stands that sells food. He gets free drinks as someone who technically works the races and it's an especially warm night. He gets a water and a sports drink and turns to head back to his tent, when someone collides with his side.

"Oh son of a bitch!"

And Phayu is hot and tired and covered in sweat and now some sticky alcoholic drink, and this guy should be apologizing, so he snaps back "manners."

"Oh son of a bitch, please and thank you."

Phayu snap his eyes to this little brat to see a pout so endearing, it almost makes him smile. But he's not going to smile because-

"You ran into me," Phayu tells him in a stern tone, "because you weren't paying attention. You owe me an apology."

The pit bunny flushes and crosses his arms over his crop top. His exposed stomach is smooth and taut and pierced. "Well you were in my way."

Phayu's teeth ache with the desire to bite the attitude out of this boy. "What's your name?"

"Rain. What's yours?"

The lack of honorific is not lost on either of them. "Phayu, I'm the senior mechanic covered in your drinks."

"Then maybe you should replace them?"

Phayu folds his arms and something in him preens as Rain eyes his biceps. They're both standing with their arms folded, but it's so different. Phayu is tall and straight, unimpressed expression with a single raised brow, while Rain has hip cocked down and head tilted in faux innocence. Still with that pretty pout on his lips.

"How about I teach you manners?"

Rain opens his mouth in what is sure to be a hissy snap, but he's jostled forward by someone walking too close behind him. More of his drinks slosh over the rims and Phayu remembers they're still in the busiest part of the race, swimming with people moving all around them.

It breaks the little spell around them. Rain shakes his head and when he looks at Phayu again, he is more bashful. "I'm sorry, phi." He says even though it's clear he doesn't want to. "I would help you clean up, but Stop and his friend are going to be pretty pissed if I take any longer with their drinks." Rain gestures to his two semi empty drinks. "But maybe you can teach me better manners next time?" He bats his eyes and bites his lip and Phayu is hit by how effective pit bunnies can be because that look makes Phayu want to do very reckless things.

And then Rain is gone, off to fetch drinks for whatever racer or big shot he's been tagging.

Phayu thinks about that for days, the pout and the snark and the long lashes that would look so much prettier with tears clinging to them.

He doesn't seek Rain out again though, Phayu still has to be responsible and professional.

Rain does not.

Within a week, Rain finds Phayu's tent and makes a reason to be there, saying he has a message from a racer that the mechanics need to use a specific oil for his bike.

And Phayu's about to roll his eyes and say he knows how to be a damn mechanic, but Rain is leaning over one of the bikes like he belongs there, confident and uncaring of where he sprawls.

Brattiest brat Phayu has come across in a while. "Get off of my bikes."

"Why?"

"You don't have permission," Phayu stalks closer, but Rain doesn't straighten, still bent over and looking up at him through those damn lashes, "to touch them."

"What if I ask really nicely?" Rain doesn't drop his eyes. "What if I said pretty please?"

"You can do better than that."

But then a new bike is getting brought in and Phayu is getting called over and he really shouldn't be this wound up at work, so he tries to ignore it.

Rain keeps seeking him out, with a smart mouth and rolling eyes and a voice that really should be gagged. It's Rain finding him, starting shit where Phayu should be more composed, where Phayu really can't do anything. He could probably tell someone in charge and use his favoritism to keep Rain away from him, but Phayu doesn't want Rain to stay away. He wants Rain somewhere other than his job where he can finally spank the boy.

Until it builds and one day Rain is in his tent, perched on a table and skewing all of his organized tools and when Phayu scolds him, Rain blinks and says "what are you going to do about it?"

And Phayu has had it and he marches over and grabs Rain's chin and snarls, "I'm going to take you home tonight and spank your ass until it bruises."

And Rain all but melts. "About damn time."

---

I dunno man, just feral brat pit bunny Rain who wants to see how much he can push professional, stoic Phayu until he snaps at a race.