#taken seconds before he took them by force

[hipsdofangirl]

my SVT bias line as HOCKEY PLAYERS

general + romantic headcanons

genre: college au!, hockey au!, some hockey lingo that may be wrong, subtle innuendos but nothing explicit, lowercase intended

note: always after i go to my college’s hockey games i want to write something… also not proofread as always cause i just got back from a game to sit down and write this for an hour straight... PLEASE comment your thoughts cause i need more people to talk to about this

general information:

the svt hockey team can play in any lines, but they prefer their units they dubbed themselves! this is what makes them so dangerous…

yoon jeonghan (04; position: right winger)

very fast but normally has no stamina, causing early line changes. they usually throw him toward the end of the periods to spark fear into the opposing team.

his signature move is flicking the puck to and fro in front of his opponent only to swipe it under his legs.

he loathes getting shoved but he plays it up so his team gets more angry (they always fall for it).

has best lettuce (slang for hair and this shocked me to my core learning about this)

subtly goes offsides and it’s a 50/50 chance of him getting caught.

he is not the type to pick fights but sometimes feels left out when they occur. one time, the other 3 were butting heads with the other team after a shot and he just stood there with an opposing player and just lightly grabbed his stick; the player tried tugging it back but jeonghan would not let go.

normally, after a fight he is immediately with his teammates and checking for any injuries and hearing them complain about the other team. if they are injured, oh boy watch out.

romantic

during warmups before the game, he purposely shoots with force and towards your direction. you can always spot a little smirk (and a giggle which mingyu side eyes him for) whenever you flinch in response

whenever he scores and his teammates hug him, right after he scans the crowd for you. once he spots you, he does his signature ‘click’ noise and salutes you (sometimes you blow a kiss and he dramatically is taken aback).

when he had his injury that took him to out of play for a month, he would always sit beside you, arm resting on your seat. whenever his team would score a goal, a smile donned his face as he clapped; you on the other hand, always stand up and high five the people around you, his face seems to bloom when he watches you with love.

obviously you receive his jersey and he adores you when you wear it. when he first gave it to you, in your apartment, he had to indulge in his free will and squish your cheeks before planting many light kisses.

when you were mad at him, you wore joshua’s jersey. he was not amused for too long as his name wasn’t the only way to claim you.

xu minghao (08; position: left winger)

exchange player

he is the one with the least amount of broken sticks in his usual line up

along with jeonghan he is one of the fastest but has better stamina. he is also agile and flexible, causing opponents to hate going one-on-one with him; he does that meticulous side by side movement but the final one he leans his body to the avoid crashing into the plexiglass (his opponent doesn’t avoid this fate).

toward the start of his second year playing, the coach told him to tone down his anger, so the rest of the year he wasn’t very aggressive, losing points and vigor till hoshi had to have a talk.

now? once second period rolls around and the vibes are set, he will RUIN them. not with physical fights but his ‘light-taps’ with his shoulder and stick seem to blur the line of being a penalty.

romantic

after the whistle has been blown to perform another puck drop in their zone, minghao will always look to you and tap his stick onto the ice.

whenever you get the courage to create a sign, he will read it but then won’t indulge in your schemes; however, when he faces the other way a smile seems to shine through the face shield.

now when HE had his injury, he would also sit next to you. it was awkward when his injuries overlapped with jeonghan’s as you all sat next to each other to cheer. when it was break time and the screens in the middle points to a new ‘____ cam’, jeonghan would look over at him leading minghao to sigh and gave a brief glare to the man. jeonghan would purposely flag down the cameraman and point towards you two. have fun under new situations (kiss cam, dance cam, cowbell cam, you name it).

he wants to teach you how to play or at least how to successfully hit the puck. he desires to indulge in both of your hobbies for a closer connection; even if you can’t skate or is not accessible, he will find a skate park where you two can hit a ball with hockey sticks while complaining about your latest group project.

if the ice is accessible, he will teach you how to skate…oh? you already know how to skate? no, you don’t; he will correct your form or tease you, allowing himself to be barely out of reach as you stretch your hands to lovingly strangle him.

unlike the others on the team, he never asked you to wear his jersey. instead, whenever he visited or you did, he would ‘forget’ or ‘misplace’ his jersey around you and sometimes overnight. he wanted YOU to ask if you could wear it; call it self-consciousness or call it pride, he wanted you to take this step. of course, you always noticed and knew where it was; and of course, one time he happened to catch up trying it on in the spur of the moment. and of course he had to see it off too…

lee seokmin (81; position: center)

originally played baseball as a kid till he fell in love with watching his sister ice skate.

didn’t think he would actually join the college team but he immediately vibed well with the other players.

somehow on the official roster they spelled his name wrong?? who is dokyeom??

at first, he was scared of boarding people or engaging in fights; however, after watching mingyu and wonwoo tag team someone after the pushed woozi out of the goal, he accepted his anger.

the first time he showed aggression was during an argument he had with mingyu: he slammed his bag on the locker room floor and the silence was so loud that everyone teases him about it to this day.

unlike some of his teammates, he continues to occasionally fight; when a fist goes flying and knocks his helmet off, it’s hard to miss that rare dark look (only reserved for some moments you aren’t naive to) before he winds back to tackle the assailant.

ANYWAYS since he is one of the centers, the other members hold amounts of trust for him as he never fails to lighten the mood. with random words that become pregame cheering phrases, or with a jaw-dropping goal that flew just over the shoulder and into the net. even when he barely misses, his teammates will no doubt have his pack and flick it in.

during warmups, he loves ‘missing’ the goal and miraculously a kid gets the puck.

romantic

always looks forward to what sign you created in the crowd and secretly hopes it’s his number written on there.

when the rink has open ice skating, he loves taking you on there. bonus points if you suck cause you know he will hold your hands the whole time (even if you don’t really suck and you are pretending) and beam at you with the prettiest smile and shining eyes.

after games, he WILL ride the bus with you back to your apartment. when you ask how he is going to get back to his place, as the closest bus line doesn’t go that way, he somehow is passed out in your bed: snuggled under your weighted blanket and hugging your plush squishmallow (he eventually abandons it for you when you give in hmm it’s like he was never asleep…you feel bad when you wake up and look over on the floor to see the abandoned mallow’s beady black eyes staring into you).

it’s a little tradition and mini competition between you two to see who can leave the most notes of encouragement for one another! he came so close to crying—when you first started this trend—by placing 7 blue sticky notes littered with words of affirmation and doodles: located on top of his hockey stick, inside his gloves, top of the inside of his helmet, in the side pocket where he holds his water bottle, and on both of his skates.

please please please wear his jersey!!! his mood will sour when you don’t. even if it’s dirty and smells and someone spilled beer on it—don’t worry!! seokmin will give you another one which leads to his coach wondering why he has no jersey (or one that reeks with beer).

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 9 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo had been mulling over a simple, yet increasingly puzzling question: How does one even contact you?

Despite weeks of fighting together, not once had he taken the initiative to reach out. The strange thing? You two hadn’t even exchanged numbers. You either planned your next raid before parting ways, or—more recently—you would simply show up because of your own schedule, or a butterfly of yours would come to him first.

The answer came to him, in a way that felt both obvious and absurd. Your butterflies.

Jinwoo wasn’t one to wait idly for answers, so he decided to test his theory. Concentrating on the familiar presence of your aura, he extended his hand, replicating that feeling in his mind. Moments later, one of your butterflies—the one that often remained hidden nearby, perhaps acting as your eyes—fluttered into view, landing lightly on his open palm.

Its wings faltered slightly, as if in acknowledgment.

This might actually work.

Closing his eyes, Jinwoo focused on the connection he had felt before, the distinct feeling of the red butterfly communicating with him.

Take me to her.

He didn’t know if it would respond, but soon enough, the butterfly took off, guiding him through the city.

---

He found you in the Hunter’s Market, haggling with a merchant. You were engaged in a rather intense back-and-forth, and judging by the merchant’s begrudging look, you were winning. In your hands, Jinwoo caught sight of what looked like a dormant magic beast egg, likely the reason for the negotiation.

"You're late."

You greeted him without even turning around, continuing to inspect the wares. Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. Not even a flicker of surprise from you. It was becoming clear that not much could catch you off guard.

By now, he was getting used to your way of doing things. "I need to talk to you."

There was an unspoken understanding between you that this wasn’t a conversation for public ears.

As you continued to browse the market, you hummed in acknowledgment. "I need to talk to you about some things too. Let’s continue this conversation in my domain. I’ll be done here in a few."

Jinwoo froze, staring at your back in confusion.

“Domain?"

"Dungeon," you corrected nonchalantly, still focused on the items displayed before you, your words casual as if you were discussing the weather.

Jinwoo’s brain paused for a moment.

"You own a dungeon?"

At that, you paused, a beat of silence passing before you turned toward him with a curious tilt of your head. "Did I never mention it before?"

"..."

"Ah."

For a split second, Jinwoo had the very distinct and rare urge to pinch your cheek. But instead, he just stared, half-amused, half-incredulous. You owned a dungeon, and you were mentioning it in the most off-handed way possible.

Of course, you would be the kind of person to forget to bring up owning something like that.

And just like that, another piece of the puzzle that was you fell into place, though Jinwoo knew he had only barely scratched the surface.

---

Jinwoo couldn't help but feel a rising sense of disbelief as he followed you into the alley. He had barely come to terms with the revelation that you owned a dungeon. Even now, he had to force himself to stop asking questions before they overwhelmed him.

He kept telling himself, Stay calm. Just get to a private place. Ask your questions there.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

As if summoned by his very thoughts, a glowing portal materialized in front of them with a soft hum. Jinwoo froze mid-step, his eyes widening. The gate was far smaller than the typical ones he had encountered, just big enough to fit a full-grown adult comfortably—yet there was no mistaking it for anything but a dungeon gate. The shimmering silver-white wisps that surrounded it were unlike any other, almost blending with rainbow-like accents at the edges. It looked... strange, subdued compared to the usual ethereal blues and reds, but somehow still powerful.

It was just his luck.

Jinwoo had been trying to push the thousand and one questions flooding his mind to the back of his thoughts, but now, they came rushing back in full force. He glanced at you, but you didn’t even seem phased by the sudden appearance of the portal. Instead, you waved him forward, as if portals and dungeons appeared in alleyways every day.

He hesitated for a split second but, deciding it was better to follow your lead than be left behind in confusion, he stepped forward, his senses alert. The instant he crossed the threshold of the gate, everything seemed to shift. The world around him blurred for a second before stabilizing again, and he found himself standing in a vast open temple-like structure.

It was nothing like the harsh, ominous dungeons he’d been to before.

The structure was grand, with high ceilings and pillars that seemed to stretch endlessly upwards. The atmosphere had an air of serenity to it, something so starkly different from what he expected when entering a dungeon. But it didn’t end there. As he followed you forward, stepping through what looked like the entrance of a colossal, ancient temple, Jinwoo’s gaze was drawn outward.

The view beyond the floating temple was breathtaking.

The sight was nothing short of a dreamscape. Lush forests and vast gardens stretched far beyond what the eye could see. Gentle rivers meandered through valleys, their sparkling waters catching the sunlight. Towering, misty mountains loomed in the distance, and there were labyrinthine paths that seemed to lead into hidden areas, mysterious domed structures rising proudly in the distance. The land appeared to have been untouched by time, ancient and majestic in its quiet beauty.

It felt more like a paradise than any dungeon Jinwoo had ever seen.

This is a dungeon?

"I know, right?" you spoke, breaking his thoughts, your voice playful. "Trust me, the first time I got here, I thought I was dead and that this was paradise."

Jinwoo’s eyes flicked to you in surprise.

But you continued walking calmly ahead without a glance back, seeming completely at ease, at home.

This place, this dungeon, was a paradox. It was both beautiful and dangerous, serene and lethal. As you moved forward, he couldn’t help but make comparisons. It reminded him of the butterflies—so ethereal, so delicate, yet with a deadly bite.

Like you, Jinwoo realized.

As if sensing his thoughts, you shot him a brief glance over your shoulder. Your eyes caught his for a moment before you turned back ahead, leading him forward through the landscape. Jinwoo shook his head, his thoughts momentarily swirling. But something made him froze in his steps.

He watched you from behind, the soft fluttering of butterflies surrounding you, some of them trailing closely behind, others flitting about aimlessly.

One butterfly, the familiar red one, fluttered close to you and landed delicately on your finger. You brought it up to your lips and kissed it gently, a soft, quiet action that felt impossibly tender.

Divine.

Jinwoo couldn’t help but wonder again, and for some reason, his pulse quickened. But, before he could dwell too much on his absurd thoughts, he shook his head and hurried to catch up with you.

---

The two of you continued walking until you reached a beautiful outdoor gazebo. The serene atmosphere of the garden, complete with a quiet pond surrounded by vibrant flowers, made it feel just like the rest of this space shouldn’t had been, a paradise. The soft trickle of water from nearby waterfalls added to the peaceful ambiance. On the table in front of the gazebo, there was tea and snacks laid out, ready for the conversation he knew he had to have with you.

Jinwoo sat down across from you, his mind buzzing with questions. He had so many things he wanted to know, and yet, he wasn’t sure where to start.

You, on the other hand, took a sip of your tea, completely at ease, before setting it down. You studied him quietly for a moment, perhaps waiting for him to speak first.

It took a moment, but Jinwoo finally asked, "This place... this dungeon. How did you come to own it?"

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, looking out over the garden for a moment as if gathering your thoughts. "Ah, yes. The story of how I got this place. It’s not simple, but I suppose I owe you an explanation."

You paused, seeming to gather yourself. "The truth is, this dungeon was here long before I ever arrived. In fact, I... was lost here when I was a child."

Jinwoo blinked, surprised. You—lost?

You continued, seemingly unfazed by his reaction. "I was barely a teen when I stumbled into it. The Trial System... it didn’t exactly help me, if you know what I mean. But it gave me a challenge I couldn’t ignore. To leave this place, I had to defeat the dungeon’s guardians."

Guardians? Bosses? Multiple?

You caught his gaze, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if that was a question. Jinwoo didn’t say anything, but his mind whirled. It was clear that this place wasn’t like any other dungeon he’d ever encountered.

"So, how did you own it?" he asked, his voice quieter now, as if trying to make sense of this all.

“The Trial System gave it to me as a... reward, I guess,” you said, a faint smile playing on your lips. "It’s mine now, in every sense of the word. And because I own it, I can summon it whenever I need to. I can open a portal to it and leave at will." You looked at him, eyes gleaming. "That’s how I was able to summon that gate earlier. It’s a... special gift."

Jinwoo absorbed the information, slowly piecing it together. "So, you can teleport anywhere?”

“Not exactly, I need to have a clear picture of where I want to go." You shrugged nonchalantly.

Jinwoo exhaled sharply, his thoughts swirling. As much as he wanted to ask more—wanted to demand answers—he felt something within him pull him back. This was your secret to reveal, in your own time.

So, instead of questioning you further, he allowed himself a moment of quiet contemplation. You seemed to know what he was thinking. With a soft smile, you raised your cup again and said, "I don’t mind sharing more, Jinwoo. But just know, some things are better left unsaid.”

Jinwoo nodded, his gaze lingering on you. He would get the answers he was looking for, one way or another. But for now, he would have to trust you—because there was no other choice.

---

Jinwoo stared at you, completely flabbergasted, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You have to what now?"

You sighed, sinking a bit deeper into the seat of the gazebo, as if this whole conversation were some kind of exhausting memory you'd rather not dig up. "I have to level up my skills manually. Yes. Manually."

You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it. "Wait, so… no shortcuts? No automatic leveling?"

"None." You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back and stretching your arms out. "The system basically made me work my way up through blood, sweat, and endless labor. You’d think the trial version would offer at least some quality-of-life updates, but nope. If I wanted to get better at farming, I had to actually go out and till the fields. If I wanted to improve cooking… yeah, let’s just say that was a nightmare."

Jinwoo blinked, half in shock, half in amusement. "Wait… so, all those skills that the system grants—crafting, mining, cooking—you had to actually do all those things?"

"Yep," you replied, with a roll of your eyes. "No instant boosts for me. While you get to succeed or fail with crafting based on your intelligence stat, I actually had to sit down and grind every skill point myself. And, of course, I started off just as badly as you’d expect.”

He tried to picture it and stifled a laugh. "So you’re telling me… you burned a boiled egg?”

"Listen," you huffed, giving him an exasperated look. "It was the lowest-level cooking skill, okay? Apparently, it was so low that I couldn't even be trusted to make something as simple as a boiled egg. Somehow, it just… burned." You buried your face in your hands, grumbling, "It’s still a mystery to me how boiling water and an egg turned into charcoal. But that was my life. Trial version for the win."

Jinwoo couldn’t hold back his laugh anymore, and the sound of it filled the air, rich and full of genuine amusement. "You? Burning an egg? You?"

"Hey, don’t laugh! It’s not funny," you protested and pouted at him. "Let’s just say I made my fair share of… tragic cooking attempts before my skill level got high enough to handle basic meals without a disaster."

You watched him try to stifle his laughter, but your own lips twitched, betraying a smile as well. "And it wasn’t just cooking," you added. "Farming was another story. I didn’t even know the basics—soil preparation, crop rotation, pest control. Do you have any idea how long it took me to produce anything that wasn't... wilted? Even mining was brutal. There I was, chipping away with an old pickaxe for hours just to get a sliver of ore."

He shook his head, still grinning. "Looks like you went through your own personal training arc as well."

"Of course I do." you agreed with a snort. "If the system hadn’t taken feedback from me eventually, you’d be the one cursing it out every time you tried to do something simple. But yeah, thankfully, the system decided to cut you a break. Guess my suffering counted for something, after all."

You straightened in your seat and took a sip of your tea, a satisfied smirk crossing your face. "But at least, once I got a skill to a decent level, it stayed there. Permanent. I don’t have to touch a frying pan for years, and the skill level’s still as good as ever. And the skills I invested in heavily—those have even broader effects."

Jinwoo’s brow furrowed, curious now. "Broader effects?"

You nodded, glancing up thoughtfully as if reliving memories. "Take my language skill, for example. I leveled it up while studying Monster Tongue, which was excruciating at first. But once I maxed out that skill, learning other languages was a breeze. The system gave me a boost, kind of like an automatic enhancement for anything similar. If I tried learning another language now, it’d be easy compared to when I first started out.”

He gave a low whistle. "So basically, the more you leveled up, the easier it became to learn things related to that skill?"

"Exactly." You placed your cup back on the saucer with a gentle clink. "Though there’s a catch. Back then, whenever the system went through an update, some skills would get expanded. The cap would get set higher, and I’d have to grind all over again to max them out."

You gave him a look of exasperation. "Imagine maxing out a skill only for the system to update and say, 'Hey, you can go up to Level 50 now instead of 30!' That happened so many times, I lost count."

Jinwoo leaned back, his expression growing more serious. "So… what happens now? Are you stuck with your current stats forever?"

You took a slow breath, letting the question sink in before nodding. "That’s exactly it. Since the trial stage ended when you became the player, there haven’t been any more updates. My levels, skills, and stats… they’re frozen as they are. I can’t adjust my stats, I can’t level anything up, that’s why I don’t get EXP anymore. It’s like I’m in a kind of… stasis."

He was silent for a moment, digesting the weight of that statement. It was strange to think that someone with as much knowledge and power as you would be… limited.

"I still have everything I gained during the trial, of course," you continued, your tone turning thoughtful as you gazed out over the garden. "But it’s a strange feeling, knowing that I’ll never improve again. All my stats, skills, and levels are frozen in time. There’s no ‘growth’ anymore—not like what you have."

Jinwoo frowned. "And that doesn’t bother you?"

You shrugged, meeting his eyes again. "It did, at first. But after a while, I came to terms with it. I put in the effort back then, and I reaped the rewards. Sure, I miss the feeling of progress, of leveling up. But the fact that you’re the player now means the system’s finished with me." You managed a smile, though it was a bit bittersweet.

He looked at you, quiet for a moment, perhaps feeling a hint of the sacrifice you'd made just for the sake of his journey.

"So now," you said, breaking the silence with a brighter tone, "I’m basically a living relic of the trial version, here to help you navigate the system’s quirks."

Jinwoo smirked at that. "The legendary burnt-egg chef, my official guide through the system."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "That title better not stick." Then, with a playful nudge of your cup in his direction, you raised an eyebrow. "And hey, if I’m going to help you, maybe you could use a few pointers. Starting with, oh, I don’t know… naming tips? You’re downright horrible at that."

The two of you shared a look, both of you smiling. And despite the strange circumstances, Jinwoo knew he was glad to have you by his side, guiding him, burnt eggs and all.

[Oh, he’ll not let that go, will he?]

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

---

"The meals with healing properties, the intricate mana stones, and how your butterflies can affect my daggers' stats... So that's why..." Jinwoo trailed off, connecting the dots.

You nodded, munching on a biscuit. "Mhm, pretty much. Since I have to actually *learn* the fundamentals of each skill, I can manipulate and craft related items more easily. It makes altering, replicating, or even making things from scratch a lot more natural."

You paused, reflecting for a moment before continuing, "It’s a blessing that the last system update allowed me to max out certain skills to the point where I can do these things in reality without relying solely on the system."

You brushed the crumbs from your fingers and leaned back, satisfied. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to tell you. Now, what is it you wanted to say?"

Jinwoo took a deep breath, locking eyes with you. "Join me for a week."

"...Eh?"

Without a word, he held up an item—a key.

<Castle Door Key>.

It was the entry to the Demon Castle, the S-rank dungeon created by the system itself.

"There’s no rule saying I can’t bring someone with me. You don’t gain any more experience, so there’s nothing for me to lose. But you might get materials you won’t find anywhere else, not even in the hunter's market—"

"I refuse."

Jinwoo blinked, surprised. "What?"

You looked away, your mind racing. The offer was tempting—you had several experiments in mind, but there was too much at stake. There were bigger forces at play—the plot, the system's interference, and Jinwoo's crucial development. You couldn’t afford to be too involved in this one. You needed a good excuse, something he would believe.

"Jinwoo," you began, "you’re aware of my powers' limitations, right?"

"What does that have to do with—"

"Listen." Your voice, suddenly sharp, cut through the air, and Jinwoo froze.

For the first time, Jinwoo felt uneasy, confused, like he had said something wrong. He didn’t like the shift in your demeanor, especially when it was directed at him.

"'Demon' Castle," you continued, your tone softer but firm, "just by the name alone, we can assume the majority, if not half, of enemies there will be undead."

"..."

"My powers thrive off life. In an essentially ‘dead’ land, I’ll be at a severe disadvantage—"

"I'll protect you."

"And that’s exactly the problem. I’ll be a deadweight."

"Just focus on supporting me and my shadows."

You stared at him, the determination in his eyes unwavering. He was serious—dead serious.

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on. "You’re really persistent."

"I know," he replied, not once backing down.

You exhaled, resigned. Deep down, you knew that continuing to refuse him would lead to something far more troublesome. There was no winning against Jinwoo when he was this determined. "Alright," you finally said, "I’ll join you. But if things go south, you have to trust me to pull back. Understood?"

As if you could leave him, the nagging thought echoed in your mind.

Jinwoo’s gaze softened slightly, and a small, rare smile crept onto his lips. "Understood."

You only hoped that the system wouldn’t interfere or cause any unexpected complications this time. But one question remained: why was Jinwoo so insistent on bringing you along, despite the risks?

Unbeknownst to you, Jinwoo was asking himself the same thing. But it was something he wasn’t quite ready to admit—not to you, and perhaps not even to himself.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [023/10/2024] -

The middle part of this, the convo between Jinwoo and (Name) feels a bit weird, so I apologize for the OOC-ness. I'll come back to this later.

[sky-is-the-limit]

Safe and Sound.

P: John Marston x F!Reader

S: After a mission goes wrong, John makes sure that next time you'd better fucking listen to his instructions.

CW: Unprotected P in V, John has a breeding kink *unless you give him an actual child* and can't shut up.

WC: 2,817 words

Notes: Finally, after months of not touching this draft, I finished it!!! Photo credits: me<3

With your pace quickening by the second as you ascended the stairs, the thud of your footsteps echoed on the wooden surface like a warning to anyone standing in your way.

You tried your best to ignore the presence of the man trailing behind you, you really tried but his simmering anger practically followed you like dark smoke ready to consume you.

Each step taken, you hoped that someone else would steal his attention, that maybe Arthur would intervene or that he would simply let the matter drop but you knew damn well, that's not John Marston. Not your John.

Entering the cold room, your heart pounded in your chest erratically as you struggled to steady your breathing and seeking peace, you turned toward the window, hoping the beautiful green landscape beyond would offer a moment of tranquility from the chaos awaiting for you behind the closed door.

But before you could gather your thoughts, the calm was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Your stomach churned as anxiety settled in your bones. You knew all too well what was about to unfold and sure enough, mere moments later, the door flew open with a forceful slam, jolting you from your place.

"When are you going to learn how to take orders, huh?!" John's voice boomed, cutting through the silence like a knife.

His frustration reached its peak as he shoved the door shut with such strength that the entire room seemed to tremble under the strain.

"I had them-" You began, attempting poorly to explain yourself but before you could finish your sentence, John cut you off abruptly and stepped dangerously close.

"Had them?! If it wasn't for me following you right behind, they would've blown your head off!" John's anger thundered through the room with his hands gesturing wildly in the air, emphasizing his emotions.

"I told you to take the road to Rhodes and lose them but you're so fucking stubborn that you almost brought them here!"

The words were a harsh slap, each syllable dripping with disappointment.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you listened to the man before you and guilt gnawed at your bones, knowing that your actions had put not only yourself but also the man you so adore in serious danger.

''Damn you, woman! Next time, invite the bounty hunters here for a beer!"

John's frustration surged uncontrollably as he mocked your ill-conceived plan to handle six bounty hunters single-handedly, so close to camp.

Despite the impulse of your pride and ego to bite back, you couldn't deny the truth. You had indeed put everyone in jeopardy with your reckless actions.

The memory of him risking life and limb to come to your aid filled you with a deep sense of shame and since the moment you stepped into camp, you didn't look a single person in the eyes.

You had failed not only yourself but also John and the rest of the gang, the family that took you in when you had no one else in the world.

Your actions had nearly cost them dearly and the thought made your stomach churn with guilt.

For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, you stood there in silence with your gaze remaining fixed on the ground, unable to meet his eyes as you fidgeted nervously with your fingers.

The words hovered on the tip of your tongue but you couldn't bring yourself to say them, afraid that they would get choked in your throat before they could escape.

But then, with a trembling voice, you finally managed to whisper, "I'm sorry, John."

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you recalled the disaster you caused.

John was clearly still lost in anger as he took his time to register your apology, his features contorted with both rage and sympathy or so it seemed.

You could see the tension in his jaw as he shook his head slowly, as if struggling to come to terms with it all.

Without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, his fingers pressing firmly as he pulled you close.

The apology lingering in the air seemed to snap something in him, the fury shifting to something deeper, something that made his eyes darken with intent. You knew what that look meant. Damn well.

His mouth crashed onto yours, fierce and bruising like he was trying to make up for every reckless decision in that single, heated kiss.

The roughness of his hands anchored you against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed you back until your spine met the wall with a soft thud.

He didn’t bother slowing down, his mouth tracing along your jaw, biting down slightly on the tender skin just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine then back to your lips as he mumbled against them,

''Damn it, woman… don’t you know I’d die for you in a heartbeat?'' The grip of his hands tightened as the rough whisper made you whimper in response.

''I want you safe. I want you right here with me.'' His words were half desperate, half demanding, each one grounding you against him as he backed you harder against the wall.

In one swift motion, his hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until your legs wrapped around his waist.

Holding you against him, he walked the short distance to the bed and his steps sure until he nearly tumbled forward, letting you fall back onto the mattress.

The thin sunlight filtering through the window barely reached the room’s corners but you didn’t care who might hear or what they might think.

John’s fingers fumbled roughly at the buttons of your dress, barely controlled as he yanked and nearly tore the fabric in his urgency.

The soft material parted, falling away to reveal your bare skin and he didn’t waste a second, his mouth moving to your breast with a hunger that made you gasp.

His lips closed around your nipple, sucking hard as his hand gripped your waist, holding you tight against him as though afraid you'd pull away while his stubble scraped deliciously against your skin.

The louder he groaned, the more you tugged at his raven hair, pulling his head closer to you.

He growled in response, sucking even harder, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak until it felt almost sore and still, he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, whining against your skin like a man starved.

Your breath hitched, the ache building as you slid the fabric lower, down to your waist, your own impatience making you press against him, desperate for more.

A low, needy sound escaped your lips as his teeth grazed over you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you could feel his fingers digging into your flesh.

"John…" You managed, barely able to get the words out, "I need… more."

The golden light streaming in bathed John’s face in a perfect manner, highlighting the rugged contours and deep scars that mapped his skin like a constellation.

''Do you want me inside, girl?'' He grumbled as the sound of his thick belt hitting the floor echoed around you.

With each second, your body ached with need as you licked your lips, hands slipping beneath his shirt so your fingers could explore the hard muscles beneath.

''Please, please, please…'' The words tumbled from your mouth, desperate and whiney, your heart racing at the thought of losing him after everything.

''Take it out.'' John then demanded, his tone commanding as he watched you intently. ''Touch me.''

As requested, you undid his pants and slowly pulled his hardened length free, earning a low moan from his throat.

John was easy to read, all emotions visible on his face as his breath quickened with each passing moment and his skin felt hot under your fingers, the desperation in his expression deepening whilst you began to stroke him.

He lifted your skirt, shoving it up around your waist, exposing you completely.

''Try to put me inside.'' He instructed, ''This time, you better listen to me.''

John just watched you, a smirk playing on his lips, savoring the moment as your frustration bubbled over.

The way you scowled and whined his name only added to his amusement and he laughed almost mockingly, relishing in the control he held over you.

''This is a lesson, alright?'' He said, taking himself in hand and stroking it a few times, teasingly rubbing it against your throbbing core without pushing inside.

Each pass made you squirm, your hips lifting instinctively as you sought relief.

But before you could gain any traction, he pressed you back down with a possessive glint in his gaze that made your heart stop.

Then, without warning, he slammed into you, filling you completely.

Your warm walls wrapped around him, squeezing tightly as a gasp escaped your lips, the suddenness of it taking your breath away.

The initial sting was intense, causing you to wince but it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar heat of him inside you.

Arms wrapped around his back, nails digging into his flesh, you were certain you were leaving your mark on him.

John held your leg firmly against him, angling himself to sink deeper, each drive rougher than the last as he took his time to savour every desperate sound you made.

His thrusts were brutal, pushing into you with a force that made you both want to stop and continue till your body no longer answered to you, fingers clinging to him, barely able to hold on under his weight.

''You gonna keep pushing me like that?'' He muttered with a low rasp as he kept you in place. ''This is what happens when you don’t listen.''

You could feel him shift, pressing himself into you as far as he could go, giving a harsh grind of his hips that made you moan his name. He smirked, relishing every shaky breath you took as you struggled to keep up with his pace.

''Just like that—God, John, don’t stop-'' You gasped, breaking as he bottomed out, his cock hitting the perfect spot that sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

He let out a rough growl, hot breath brushing against your neck as he leaned in, teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your whole being tremble.

"I’m not stoppin-" He grunted, thick with the kind of promise that left no room for argument. "Not stoppin’ till I give you my child-''

As if that promise wasn't enough, John’s hands slid to the back of your knees, pressing them higher until your thighs were almost pinned to your chest, opening you up completely.

He took one heated glance at where his thick shaft was buried inside you, watching as your slick warmth clung to every ridge and vein, before slamming into you again and again.

Each thrust hit that sweet spot dead-on, leaving you struggling to hold on, clenching around him as the ecstacy built with each brutal stroke.

You barely held back the cries tumbling from your lips, each sound swallowed up by his grunts as he took you deeper, the angle so perfect that it had your head spinning.

John’s roughened hand cupped your jaw, his thumb guiding your gaze down.

''Look here.'' He ordered with a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

His hips pushed forward, just enough to press your bodies together again, sliding his thick length into your sensitive heat with a slow, punishing thrust.

''See how you’re takin’ me..'' The possessiveness and pride were evident in both his gaze and tone. ''How perfect we fit.''

Your eyes followed his command, catching the way your bodies connected, each push sending a slickness pooling between you both, blending in a way that had you clenching tighter around him.

''Please, John… right there… more-'' You managed with a plea as your hips lifted to meet his every thrust.

"Keep watching.'' John rasped, pulling out almost all the way before pressing deep once more and you obeyed, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he filled you, stretching you just right.

With a smirk, John loosened your grip from his shoulders, his hands both forceful and assured as he pinned your wrists above your head, holding them steady with a single rough palm.

Leaning close, his breath warmed your ear as he muttered, ''Stay right there. Don’t you dare move.''

He shifted his weight, gripping the headboard tightly with his free hand and began an animalistic rhythm that not even the poorly made bed could handle.

Each plunge was deep, leaving you no choice but to surrender to every inch he claimed and the solid wood of the headboard rocked against the wall with each connection, mirroring the mounting fervor between you.

''John-'' You gasped, arching under him, hands twisting in his hold as the pleasure rose to an overwhelming edge and you needed nothing more but to touch him.

Despite your efforts, he kept you locked in place, smiling down menacingly, refusing to let you budge.

''Gonna make sure you remember exactly who you belong to-'' He declared, his gaze fixed on yours as he fucked into you harder, your bodies colliding with obscene sounds.

There was no holding back, he made sure of it, his hips ruthless and you knew without a doubt the others could hear every intimate detail from outside but John didn’t care.

If anything, the possibility only fueled him, his heavy breaths mingling with your cries.

Sweat trickled down from his forehead, beads gathering at his temples to run down his jaw and a few drops fell to your bare chest, sliding over the curves of your skin to mingle with the dampness between your bodies.

''Come on, darlin’-'' He murmured, his voice strained as he leaned in to press his lips against the shell of your ear, ''Let me feel it..''

And with those words, you let go, surrendering completely as waves of pleasure crashed through you, his grip grounding you as you reached that peak.

John followed shortly after, his head dipping to press a final, fierce kiss to your neck as he stilled, the two of you locked in that last moment of shared intensity with your bodies still entwined and breaths ragged.

The small bed creaked with each subtle shift, but there was a strange comfort in the intimacy of it. Just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the night.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if trying to shield you from everything outside this little moment and his fingers moved slowly, tracing calming circles on your back, each one a silent promise that everything would be okay.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world outside seemed so far away, and in that stillness, you found a peace you hadn’t realized you were craving.

But then, the words slipped out before you could stop them. A soft sigh left your lips as you lifted your head, your eyes searching his for understanding,

"I’m sorry, John... for all the trouble I cause. For not listening to you when I should."

His hand paused but only for a moment before it resumed its comforting circles, as if the movement was as natural as breathing.

With eyes softened, the corners of his lips pulled into a small, sweet smile.

"It’s alright, darlin'." He murmured with a quiet rumble.

It wasn’t, not really but you were safe and sound in his embrace and that was all that mattered.

Instead of answering, you leaned forward, your lips finding the familiar scar on his chest, an old bullet wound.

You pressed a soft kiss there, as if trying to heal him in your own way, to show him that you cared just as deeply for the parts of him that were broken as the parts that weren’t.

John chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your hair as he tightened his hold on you.

"Don’t go apologizing too much, love. You’ve got a lot of fire in you and I wouldn’t want you any other way." He whispered, his fingers brushing through your locks.

"But hey, I’ll always have your back. No matter how stupid you get, you know that. And I know you'll be there for me when I’m being just as dumb."

A teasing spark danced in your eyes as you looked up at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

"Like always, you mean. You’re always doing something stupid, Marston." You teased, the giggle escaping your throat before you could stop it.

John smirked, his expression shifting into something playful to remind you that his stamina has no limits, especially when it comss to you. "Maybe you need another lesson on respect, huh?"

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 5

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: description and mention of murder, language, absolutely cliché cliffhanger

A/N: Hey, lovely moots! Just a heads-up that things are about to get a little hectic on my end with writing my MA thesis and juggling work over the next few weeks, so there might be a slight delay in the next chapter. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding & most importantly for loving this story so far. Hope you enjoy the read in the meantime! 🤍

Catch up on Chapter 4 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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Previously:

With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together. 

For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.

But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chill sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.

You had no idea where you were. 

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You tightened your grip on Emma, feeling the weight of her small body pressing into you like an anchor. And you undoubtedly needed that goddamn anchor then and there. Wherever there was.

She looked up at you with wide, tired and weary eyes, sensing the danger but too young to understand the why of it all. She was still shivering from being held hostage in a — what exactly? You turned around to take a glance at the building you and Emma were taken to. It was some sort of a fort-looking, massive, brutalist building. The unpainted concrete walls and the defined, sharp edges just gave the already eerie atmosphere another layer of creepiness. 

Russell also took a look at the building, but his mind was occupied with finding something — anything, really, that indicated where they were.

He scanned the empty streets. The whole place looked deserted and industrial. Old factory buildings with busted-out windows, a chain-link fence rusting along the perimeter, and no signs of life except for a stray cat slinking through the shadows. 

This is what The Rolling Stones was singing about in Living In A Ghost Town, he thought.

Russell glanced around, brow furrowed.

“This… doesn’t look good” he muttered, looking like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube with one hand tied behind his back.

“No kidding” you shot back, keeping your tone as light as you could manage for Emma’s sake, but your heart was thumping like a jackhammer. You were about three seconds away from a nervous breakdown — which, at this point, would probably be your hundredth. “So, genius… what’s the plan?”

Russell glanced at you, clearly trying to keep it together, but the frustration in his voice was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to come up with one. But I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.”

“There wasn’t any part of this I liked in the first place!” you grumbled.

Just then, a low rumble echoed from somewhere in the distance, a car engine revving up, headlights slicing through the dark. At the sound of voices barked orders, “Get ‘em!” and “Don’t fucking let them get away!”, Russell muttered a curse under his breath, pulling you both back into the shadows.

You flattened yourself against the cold wall, clutching Emma close. The car’s headlights swept across the cracked pavement, illuminating the scene for a heartbeat before the light passed, leaving you in the cover of darkness again. You held your breath, listening as the car slowed, idling nearby.

Russell’s eyes met yours, a silent message passing between you. You could almost hear his thoughts screaming This wasn’t part any of the plans I came up with.

The car's engine finally faded, and Russell took a slow, perfectly controlled breath. Huh. “Alright” he whispered. “Follow me. We stick to the backstreets, stay low, and pray they don’t have the whole damn town locked down.”

You raised an eyebrow, attempting a dry smile despite the tension. “So, no master plan, just hope for the best? Excellent.”

His lips twitched, a hint of his usual smirk breaking through. “Welcome to my life.”

With that, he led the way down the alley, sticking close to the wall and guiding you through the maze of abandoned buildings. Emma clung to you, her little fingers curled into your shirt with a force that no four-year-old should bear, and you stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t sure you even believed yourself.

And honestly, you weren’t sure who needed the comfort more, her or you.

A few blocks down, you came across an old diner with a busted sign hanging above. It looked deserted. Perfect. Russell motioned for you to duck inside, the three of you slipping into the dimly lit space, huddling behind an overturned booth.

Russell scanned the room. “We’ll wait here for a few minutes. I need to come up with a plan.”

You nodded, settling Emma down and trying to keep your own nerves in check. It was just the three of you now, in a dusty, forgotten diner on the edge of nowhere, hiding from a nightmare that had yet to let you go. As you leaned back against the booth, you glanced at Russell, whose eyes were still scanning the room, like he could will a plan into existence if he stared hard enough. “So, any ideas on where exactly we are?”

He shrugged, offering a look that was almost... endearing in its hopelessness. “Somewhere... not Idaho Falls?”

You couldn’t help it. A low, incredulous laugh slipped out of your lips. “Well, thanks, Sherlock. That really narrows it down.”

“We’re far from home?” Emma's voice cut through the hushed tension.

You froze as you looked at her wide, curious and somewhat nervous eyes. 

“Yes, we are” Russell said before you could answer. Your eyes snapped at his face with a questioning expression, then he continued “… because we are on a little adventure.”

You shot him a look. Adventure? Was that what we were calling it now? Maybe you’d missed the part where your life turned into a bad action movie. But you just kept quiet. No point in crushing the adventure vibe. And you had no better idea how to explain it to her without mounting the trauma of the situation to her.

Emma turned to him as he spoke and after a moment of silence, her little voice hit his ears. “Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at Russell.

Russell blinked back, like she’d just asked him how to solve world hunger in the span of five minutes. He’d only met her about an hour ago, and now this. The million-dollar question.

Your dad, his mind screamed, but his mouth rather formed the following sentence.

“Uh, I’m a friend of your mom’s” he said, flashing her a smile that wasn’t exactly convincing. The truth was right there, hanging in the air like a bad smell, but neither of you were about to air it out yet. Not now, and definitely not here. "My name's Russell."

Emma didn’t seem to notice the weirdness, though. She just nodded like that made sense. And you? You were still stuck on the fact that your life had turned into a poorly scripted Bruce Willis-movie.

Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”

Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”

Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”

Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter. His daughter. His voice was surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.

“Okay!” Emma nodded so seriously it was like she’d just signed up for a full-on treasure hunt. “What’s our treasure?” she asked, her little brain clearly putting the pieces together. If we’re on an adventure, we must be looking for something, right?

Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Finding you is the biggest treasure there is” he said, throwing you a quick look that somehow managed to be both warm and determined. “Your mom was worried sick about you.”

Emma’s serious face melted into a grin, giggling like she’d just figured out the punchline of a joke she didn’t even know she was in. “I’m a treasure!”

Russell couldn’t help but smile back, watching her with something a little different in his eyes now. There was something about this brave little girl that made him feel a little less lost in the middle of all this chaos.

Just then, the sound of tires screeching echoed from down the street, and he stiffened, pulling you both deeper into the shadows, close to his chest.

"We need to move” Russell said, his voice sharp with urgency. The fact that he still didn’t have a solid plan didn’t seem to slow him down. Without warning, he scooped Emma up into his arms, his eyes softening just a fraction as he did. “We’ll move faster this way, pirate” he added, his lips twitching into a grin. “Just stay quiet, little treasure hunter, ‘kay?”

Emma blinked at him, clearly processing this new development like she was on the set of some kind of action flick. But after a beat, she nodded, her little hands clutching his shirt like she was ready to face whatever was next.

This whole scene was surprising. She seemed to like him already — and that was backed by the way she smiled back at you from his arms. 

You could hardly believe your eyes. 

In the midst of a kidnapping, Russell somehow made her forget the fear and pain of the past few days, if only for a moment.

Russell gave her a quick wink before looking back at you. The plan might still be nonexistent, but at least someone was acting like they had it together.

With Emma snug in his arms, Russell headed out quietly, leading you through the maze of shadows and concrete buildings. The screeching tires faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic pounding of your heart that you could feel in your eardrums. 

“Alright, pirate crew” Russell whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings like he was already in full-on mission mode. And he probably was. “We need an escape route. And I need your sharp eyes on lookout, got it? Keep ‘em peeled for any bad guys.”

“Bad guys?” she echoed, looking around, wide-eyed. “Are they gonna hurt us?”

Russell shook his head, grinning. “Not a chance. We’re pirates, remember? We’ll outsmart them easily. Right, captain?”

Emma giggled, playing along like she was born for this. And you had to hand it to him — Russell knew exactly what he was doing. Using the pirate game to sneak his way in, to worm his way through to your daughter. You hated to admit it, but... yeah, it was working.

“Alright, crew, any bright ideas?” you whispered, forcing as much lightness into your tone as you could muster for Emma’s sake.

But before anyone could answer, you heard it—tires screeching, closer this time, much too close. The sound scraped at your nerves, a noise that would probably haunt your nightmares for weeks. If your survive it, that is. Your heart skipped a beat as headlights sliced through the dark, illuminating everything for a split second before they vanished again.

"Shi—“ you muttered, but quickly bit the end as you glanced at your daughter.

Russell’s face hardened, the easy smile he’d been wearing slipping away. "Stay down, stay quiet. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Emma clutched at his shirt. “What’s happening?”

Russell’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you could have sworn you saw actual fear in his eyes. Like he knew something bad was about to happen. Something fatal.

“We’re playing a new game now, treasure hunter. It’s called ‘hide and don’t get caught'” he said, his eyes darting around, until they landed on a massive tree surrounded by some half-crushed rocks.

And just like that, he got the plan.

Without wasting another second, Russell shoved Emma back into your arms, nudging you both behind the tree. You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes was all the explanation you needed. There was no room for negotiation. This wasn’t just another close call; he was done running.

“Stay here” he whispered. “… and whatever you hear… don’t come out” he added. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, like he was taking in all of your little features; the way your hair framed your face, the slight tremor in your shoulders, your lashes looking slightly vet from fear. You looked like you’d been through a storm, and honestly, you had. But to him, standing there, you and Emma were worth every bruise, every risk.

With one last look, he turned, placing himself between you and the approaching threats.

You barely had time to register anything before you heard a car door creak open. You couldn’t see a thing from your hiding spot, but you didn’t need to. You knew exactly who it was. Rourke, or one of his Horizon lackeys. And Russell? He was still out there. With only a single gun and that damn stubborn fire in his eyes (that you somehow always adored). 

It was insane. He was insane.

Your pulse raced, heart hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself further into the shadows, praying Russell had a plan. Or, at the very least, that his unshakable confidence wouldn’t get him killed. You could hear the shuffle of boots approaching, slow and controlled.

You held Emma close, her small fingers tightening around you as she buried her face against your shoulder. You stroked her back gently, whispering, “Shh… we’re just playing hide and seek, yeah?" you asked, echoing Russell's words from earlier. "Can you… can you stay quiet for me?” 

Her fearful eyes were shiny from unshed tears, but she nodded. The guilt hit you like a punch to the gut. God, you’d never felt more of a failure as a mom than in that moment. You were supposed to keep her safe, to protect her, not drag her into this mess.

Outside, Russell didn’t flinch as the footsteps drew closer, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to move. You could only listen, heart hammering, hoping he had some kind of plan up his sleeve because this wasn’t a fight he could take on alone.

“Come on, Shaw” a voice called from the shadows, the kind of voice that made you want to punch something. Rourke. Of course. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and just plain out of luck. Come back to us… and maybe we’ll consider not wiping out your adorable little family."

Russell’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he took a step closer to the darkened street. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steel in his tone was unmistakable. “You touch one hair on their heads, and you’ll regret it, Rourke.”

Rourke chuckled with a sound so smug, it almost made you physically ill. “You know, Shaw, I thought you were smarter than this. Putting your life on the line... and for what? You can’t win here.”

Russell didn’t waver, his voice low and steady. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s worth fighting for.”

“Oh, I think I do” Rourke sneered, taking another step closer, his figure shifting in the moonlight. “I know weakness when I see it. I see it every time I look at you.”

A beat of silence. It was deafening.

“And I see a coward” Russell finally replied. “Hiding behind hired thugs, preying on those who can’t fight back. Real tough guy... That's what you enjoy, huh? That's the reason for that little side hustle of yours?" he asked. "Does Morello still have no clue about it?"

Morello? Side hustle? What was Russell playing at?

Rourke’s smug grin faltered, but only for a second. “You talk a big game, Shaw. Let’s see if you back it up.” He motioned to his men, weapons glinting faintly. Russell mirrored their actions.

You couldn't see anything, but the sounds were lound and clear. You’ve never felt this scared in your life. Ever.

From your hidden spot behind the tree, you felt Emma’s little arms clutch you tighter, sensing the danger. Your heart pounded as you watched Russell’s shadow standing alone, facing them all down.

Then Rourke took one last step forward. “Final offer, Shaw” his voice creaked with menace. “Come with us, and maybe, just maybe, your bitch and offspring stay intact.”

Russell’s grip on his gun tightened. “Big words for a guy who needs an entourage to feel important” he shot back. “But I’ll pass on the offer, thanks.”

Rourke’s face twisted, anger finally replacing his smirk. “Fine,” he spat. “You want to play hero, Shaw? Then let’s see if you survive it.”

And then, without warning, bang. The most terrifying gunshot sound you’ve ever experienced.

Not that you’ve never heard a gunshot before. It wasn’t necessarily the sound you found terrifying… but rather the silence that followed, and the uncertainty of who was at the receiving end.

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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 6):

“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”

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I know, such a cliché and terrible cliffhanger. But what can I say? Don’t fix what’s not broken.

Chapter 6 coming soon…

🤍 Taglist 🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas

[lesbehonestsstuff]

Catholic guilt - part 6

Casey Novak has always been the good catholic girl. Always perfect, always trying to meet high expectations. But she doesn't understand why she feels no interested in the boys who flirted with her, why her eyes instead linger on other girls.

Word count: 2371

Chapter 6/7

I was rushing with deadlines but I finally got time to write so here you go

The day had gone by and Casey had barely moved. She lay there barely able to breathe. The motion felt too hard, the pressure hurting her ribs. She was staring up at the ceiling, the tears that were falling catching on the soft brown fur of the bear. The room felt smaller, suffocating, the walls closing in on her. Her father’s words echoed in her head, “I’ll make you normal if it kills me.”

She wasnt broken, she wasnt something he could fix. Her entire life she had been living under their pressure and she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t let them send her away. She couldn’t lose Alex.

The thought of being torn from the only person who truly loved all of her, who understood her—it send another rush of tears down her face. She couldn’t stay, her father would make sure she was gone by tomorrow. They would force her into that camp, try to erase everything she was, make her forget the love she had for Alex.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes. She knew what she had to do. She couldn’t stay here, not with them. Not after she knew what they’d do.

Quietly, Casey got up and grabbed her backpack from the floor. She moved quickly, her hands shaking as she stuffed it with the most important things she could find—some clothes, her favorite sweater, the one she had stolen from Alex months ago, her favorite book filled with images and a photo from the Photo Booth she and Alex had taken, all of it hiding in its pages.

She opened the door to her room and heard them downstairs, dishes clinging and her fathers voice rough and loud as it always was. She took the chance to run to their room, to the box of documents her mother kept under their bed and quickly grabbed what was hers. Everything else she left behind. There wasn’t time. She needed to get out.

Wiping her the rest of her tears with the back of her hand, Casey shoved everything in her bag and crossed the room to the window. She stopped for a second looking back at all the memories, all the things she was leaving behind. It made her ache to know that her life would never be the same, that her parents were so hateful they had pushed her to this point. If she stayed she would be gone, so she would go before they could take her.

Grabbing the bear Alex had won for her and stuffing it at the top of her backpack she went to her window. The latch clicked softly as she unlocked it, the cool night air rushing in as she pushed the glass up. She hesitated for a moment when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, glancing back toward the door. If he heard her, if he caught her leaving, she didn’t know what he’d do. But she wasn’t waiting around to find out.

With a deep breath, Casey climbed out onto the roof, it had gotten dark and she used it to her advantage, her movements quick and careful. She’d done this a dozen times before to sneak out, but tonight it felt different. Tonight she wasn’t sneaking away, she was escaping.

The gravel crunched under her feet as she dropped down onto the driveway below. Without looking back, she ran. The wind whipped through her hair, and the cool night air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t slow down. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse racing as she made her way to Alex’s house, each step fueled by desperation and fear.

By the time she reached Alex’s house, her lungs were burning, and her legs felt like lead. She scrambled around to the side, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could see Alex inside asleep on the couch, the tv illuminating her features. She tapped on the window trying to get her attention.

She could see Alex slowly wake up, looking around confused until their eyes locked together Alex’s came closer rushing to the window, her brows furrowed in confusion at first, but the second she saw Casey’s tear-streaked face, the confusion melted into concern.

Alex pushed the window open, leaning out. “Casey?” Her voice was soft, but Casey could hear the worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me in,” Casey choked out, her voice shaking, desperate with sobs that wanted to crawl out her throat. “Please.”

Without hesitation, Alex disappeared for a second, and Casey heard the sound of her unlocking the back door. She rushed to meet her, and as soon as Alex opened the door, Casey crashed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Alex’s arms tightened around her immediately, holding her close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Alex murmured, her voice gentle, though panic was creeping into her tone. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Case. What happened?”

Casey couldn’t speak. She just clung to Alex, her fingers digging into her shirt as if letting go would make everything worse. Her body shook with sobs, her face buried against Alex’s neck.

Alex guided her inside, shutting the door softly behind them and leading Casey upstairs to her bed. They sat down, and Alex kept her arms around Casey, rubbing slow circles on her back. “You’re safe here. It’s okay.”

Alex felt helpless, she held tightly to Casey, waiting as sob after sob came out of her. She had never seen her so distressed and not knowing what had caused it had her so worried she felt like she was going mad. Casey was barely breathing between her cries, the desperation in them making Alex’s eye glaze over.

It took what felt like forever, but eventually, Casey’s sobs subsided enough for her to speak. Her words came out in ragged gasps, choked and broken, as she tried to explain what had happened. “My dad…he knows…they both do. He—he called me a pervert. He said—he said I was disgusting. That I’m.. that I’m—”

Alex’s felt her breath knocked out of her at the words, her grip tightening protectively around Casey. She pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing the hair out of her face, her blue eyes full of worry and love. “Casey… they’re wrong,” she whispered, her voice filled with so much conviction that Casey almost believed it. “They’re wrong. You’re not. You’re perfect, just as you are.”

Casey just shook her head, a hollow look in her eyes. She hugged her arms tightly around herself, a faint wince escaping her lips as her hand brushed against a tender spot on her arm.

Alex’s brows furrowed, and her gaze dropped to Casey’s arm. She reached out, gently lifting Casey’s sleeve to reveal a darkening bruise wrapping around her arm, the clear mark of a handprint. Her breath caught, her eyes wide with shock. “Casey… who did this to you?”

Casey swallowed hard, her gaze shifting away. “My dad,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alex’s hands were gentle, but her voice was filled with barely controlled anger. “Is… is there more?”

Without a word, Casey lifted her shirt slightly, showing Alex the darkening bruise that was starting to form on her ribs. Alex’s face went pale, her jaw tightening as she took it in, her hands shaking as she looked at Casey, barely holding back her tears. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the bruises, her mind racing. Finally, she took a shaky breath and gently lowered Casey’s shirt.

“Stay right here,” she whispered, her voice tight. She left the room briefly, returning with a small ice pack. She knelt beside Casey, her fingers gentle as she traced them on Caseys side, her touch so careful it made Casey’s chest ache. “This will help a little,” Alex murmured, pressing the ice pack to Casey’s ribs, her hand lingering to hold it in place.

Casey winced at the cold but Alex kept the pack still, she then pulled out a small camera her expression sad, a camera Alex had that Casey knew was filled with their happy moments. “Case, I’m going to take pictures of these, okay?” Her voice was steady, but her eyes were filled with a fury Casey had never seen. “Just in case. In case we ever… in case you need to show someone.”

Casey nodded numbly, letting Alex take the photos. She hated the idea, hated that this moment was now something to remember. Hated that it was now going to be tainted. But as she watched Alex, the determination in her girlfriend’s eyes made her feel safer. She knew Alex would protect her. She trusted her.

With the bruises documented, Alex sat back down beside Casey, her hand resting on her knee. “What happened after that?” she asked softly, her voice gentle but urgent.

Casey shook her head another sniffling “My dad… he… he said they’re sending me to a camp. Tomorrow. He’s taking me tomorrow morning, Lexie—”

Alex’s arms brought her back in, pulling her as close as she could. She felt nauseous at the thought. She had heard, had been threatened by her parents at some point, but the thought of Caseys parents actually following through and sending their daughter to one of those places made Alex feel like she was going to be sick. “No, they can’t… they can’t do that. Casey, we won’t let them. We won’t let them take you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Casey cried, her voice breaking. “I can’t go back home. I can’t. But if I stay, they’ll find me—”

“We’re not staying,” Alex said firmly, her voice strong despite the fear in her eyes. The decision quickly made. “We’re leaving. Tonight. You and me.”

Casey pulled back, her eyes wide with fear. “No, you can’t… you can’t just leave because of me. I don’t want you to throw everything away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Alex said, her voice soft. She cupped Casey’s face gently, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. “I don’t care about any of it if I don’t have you. I’m not letting them take you away.”

“But… your parents—”

“They don’t care about me,” Alex said quickly, pain glazing over that was gone as fast as it came. “They stopped caring years ago. But there’s someone who does. My uncle, Bill. He’s like us, Casey. He understands what we’re feeling. He lives upstate, in New York. He’ll take us in. We can be safe there.”

Casey’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process any of it. Everything was too much. They had been happy the day before, everything had been perfect and now it was all falling apart.

She knew Alex meant it. They were going to run away—leave everything behind, leave the people that hurt them, the awful town they had never felt welcome in. They didn’t have a choice. If they stayed, Casey’s parents would destroy them.

Alex was right. They couldn’t, they had to go.

“Okay,” Casey whispered, her voice shaky. “Okay, let’s go.”

Alex gave her a kiss, a soft kiss that sent a wave of warmth through Casey. They rested their foreheads together as the last of Casey’s tears fell. “Okay” Alex whispered giving her another peck and pulling away.

Alex packed in silence, the weight of what they were doing sinking in with every item she shoved into her bag. Casey had taken only what she needed—the things she couldn’t live without—and left everything else behind. It didn’t matter anymore. She sat there, the ice offering her some relief as she wondered how she had managed to find herself so lucky to have someone like Alex by her side.

When Alex was done she grabbed Casey’s hand giving it a soft squeeze. “You ready?”

Casey squeezed her back with a small nod “Yeah. Im ready”

They went down the stairs, Alex turning all the lights off and grabbing her keys as they walked outside. She locked the house, giving it one last look as they headed out into the night.

The bus station was quiet at this hour, the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. Alex bought two tickets, one-way, to upstate New York. Casey stood beside her, still feeling the last waves of shock pass through her, trying to wrap her mind around what they were doing.

They were really leaving. Running away together. It would’ve been romantic had the situation not been so dire.

As they boarded the bus, Alex took Casey’s hand, not leting her go as they made their way to the back, finding seats by the window. The bus was nearly empty, just a few other passengers scattered throughout. It was perfect—no one would notice them. No one would care.

Casey leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder, her body exhausted from the everything that had happened. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her feeling drained, her emotions overwhelming. But there was one thing she knew for certain—Alex was with her. Alex was always with her.

“I’m sorry,” Casey whispered, her voice chocked up and soft.

“For what?” Alex asked, her fingers gently brushing through Casey’s hair.

“For making you leave. For… everything.”

Alex leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Casey’s forehead. “You didn’t make me do anything. I chose this because I love you, Casey. I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.”

Casey felt tears prick at her eyes again, but this time they weren’t tears of fear. She shifted, pressing a soft kiss to Alex’s shoulder, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve Alex’s kindness, her love. But Alex was here, holding her, refusing to let her go.

They were running, yes. But they were running together.

As the bus rumbled to life, the city disappearing behind them, Casey let her eyes drift shut, exhaustion pulling her under. She felt safe here, next to Alex, wrapped in her warmth. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t afraid, she didn’t feel guilty anymore.

[badxsshottiexllie]

@spoocys-glade-of-dreams

"She's quite charismatic isn't she? Not to mention, she grew up to be a beautiful young lady. We've been looking out for her from this dimension, but as I was mentioning to Globox, it's a very complicated situation. My wife is at the store right now getting groceries for everyone's stay, so we'll explain everything once she gets home."

"Rayman...I'm aware of who you are. Before you started dating my daughter, I had mixed feelings about you...because...well...your Eden's poster boy. I wasn't sure what kind of person you really were because Eden is a terrible place. Either Eden was forcing you to do something against your will while lying to you behind your back or you were aware of their true colors but chose to work with them because you shared your beliefs."

"Seeing you out with my daughter was not only the first sign that she was still alive after her disappearance, but she looked very happy. If my daughter is happy, then I'm happy and so is her mother. I had taken a few pictures of you two while you were out. But then there was this trenchcoat guy which I took video footage of. So I thought you two broke up and then got back together after Ellie dumped the trenchcoat guy."

"By the way, I'm Cliff. Despite knowing about who you are, I'm happy to meet you as well. I can tell you care a great deal about my daughter after what you just said and that's something I greatly appreciate."

"First of all, he was The Voice of Eden and then he got fired and was replaced with a clone of himself. Second of all, Rayman and the trenchcoat guy are the same person. Go on and tell him honey."

Rayman let a soft sigh escape his nostrils as Ellie began to stroke his head. He listened to every word his girlfriend had to say. The kiss on his nose was welcomed and he would open his eyes to look right into hers.

"You're right. I shouldn't be hiding myself away like this. I need to be by your side. This probably isn't easy for your either. Give me just a moment. Keep holding my head please, love."

Rayman's hand would pull away from Bullfrog, and the other one would be seen coming out from the luggage. The hands would place his feet down on the ground after pulling them out, then he set his torso into place. He would allow Ellie to put his head back into place if she wanted, otherwise his hands would do it themselves.

He would take his girlfriend by the hand and would lead her back over to Cliff.

"I must apologize to you, sir. I'm sorry I ran off like I did. I was just a bundle of nerves. I thought I wasn't ready for this introduction. I'm Rayman. It's nice to finally meet you. I must say, you have an incredible daughter. She's smart, funny, sweet, strong-willed and strong in general, beautiful as a rose too.

Having her in my life has been one of the greatest blessings I have ever gotten; One I feel I don't deserve but am grateful she chose me."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 273

You know what? We need more Good parents Fentons. 

And you know what else? Technically, Jack helped Danny defeat Pariah via the use of the Ecto-Skeleton. And like, that’s his son, his baby boy. Sure Danny is and has always been a mommy’s boy, but it doesn’t change that fact. They’re both already feeling horrible about the fact they could have hurt him, they could have hurt their son- they have hurt their son, killed him with their inaction and never again. 

So when these oversized jello-eyeballs try to insist that their baby, their precious baby boy, take a crown? Become a king when he’s not even out of highschool, when he doesn’t want it? No. Hell no! That is his Danny-o, his baby boy who was terrified of his own parents! 

Which is how Jack, despite technically still being alive even if so-very ecto-contaminated, became the Ghost King. 

And for some reason there’s several ghosts rather happy about this- oh, these are his Danny-O’s ghost-parents? Not-ghost parents seeing as some of them have never been anything but a realm denizen? That’s really fascinating- y’know what, want some fudge and we can exchange childcare- Maddie dear come over and meet our co-parents apparently!  

Now it’s not all easy, but they’re trying their best, and that’s all that can be asked. 

…

Which is perhaps why it’s so exasperating- or as Maddie would put it, downright infuriating- that it is now, almost an entire year and a half later that the Heroes finally arrive to investigate. Well, at least he has plenty of fudge since it’s almost time for the council meeting. 

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your deity calls you to his presence to worship him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, two-dick sukuna, bit of a size kink, spitting, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, biting, gagging, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“My lord.” You get on your knees, bowing your head in the presence of the deity. You were called to his presence, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest while you’re in his presence. It feels as if his eyes burn into your skin when his gaze falls on you.

There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down arrogantly at you. Arrogance has always been a trait that you’ve looked down upon men, but Sukuna does not fit in with men. He’s anything but a man. He’s a God, a being worthy of praise and worship.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His deep voice makes your breath catch up in your chest. You hear the amusement in his voice, which brings out a worry from deep within you. You’ve caught glimpses of the deity, a swift motion from him could snap you in half. “Rise.”

You get off your knees, keeping your head lowered. You respect him– You fear him. You were always taught that you couldn’t respect someone without fearing them first, and Sukuna has your utmost respect. You’ve heard the horror stories about him, the fear that he’s caused. The fear that he still causes today; it’s the reason why you stand before him, out of fear and… oddly enough, admiration.

“Lift up your head.” He says, and while you’re confused, you don’t hesitate in doing so. Not following his orders in a manner of seconds could result in much worse. Your eyes slightly widen at the clear sight of him, he’s everything you’ve imagined and more. He’s smirking at you, and you wonder why he suddenly shows interest in you. “Tell me your story.”

“My lord, it’s nothing interesting.” You answer, and your face grows hot as you bite your tongue. You know immediately that’s the wrong answer, yet you can’t bring yourself to immediately apologize. The smirk fades away as a frown overtakes his face.

“I didn’t ask. I gave you an order and you must follow it. Do you not know the rules of this place?” He doesn’t raise his voice like you’ve heard before. 

Sukuna has seen you around, and it’s fair to say that he’s taken a liking to you. You look so soft and so sweet standing to the other servants he keeps around, but it’s not just that… It’s something else about you. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I apologize, my lord.” You bow down your head, and when you lift it up, a sigh leaves your lips. He grows impatient, but he knows you’re about to speak, therefore he gives you a couple of seconds to speak. “You wreaked havoc in my old village”

“Out of fear? Is that it?” He sounds disappointed with the answer. He expected more… Yet when he looks at you, there’s this certain spark in your eye, making him lay his head on his fist as a smirk overtakes his face again. That’s not all.

“Not just that, lord. But admiration.” You confess. Admiration… It’s odd to come from you. As pretty as a flower, yet you admire a monster– Though he prefers the word God. “I was married to this man and well… You took care of that problem.”

“Forced marriage?” He questions and you shake your head. It’ll sound like a sob story which makes you hesitant to speak up, but you know you can’t shake your head and not give more details.

“We were in love, until we got married and he decided that he didn’t like me all that much.” You share, and he grows even more interested. “He had several problems between women and drinking, bringing shame upon my name. But then you came along, my lord.”

“Come here.” He orders, and you walk over to him. Once in front of him, your heart races even faster. Your legs feel weak, and you feel like you might pass out right in front of him. He’s even bigger than you imagined. His top right hand grabs your neck, and you almost cry out of fear, but unexpectedly, the hand goes under your chin, and tilts your head up. “Did you bear children?”

“I was unable to fulfill that task, my lord.” You tell him, too ashamed to admit that it’s the reason why your late husband lost all interest in you. That’s all he needs to know, that was the root of your problem. One swift look at you, and he knows you’re not the reason of it, but rather your late husband’s fruitless seed.

“Aren’t you a wicked woman? Worshiping the monster that killed your husband.” He fights back on smiling. He likes that. He finds some sick and twisted pleasure from it. Truthfully, it’s not the worst thing that Sukuna has smiled about. Maybe it’s the worst thing that has made him aroused though.

“I don’t view you as a monster, my lord.” You respond, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You’re a God. No monster could ever compare to you.”

“Hmm… You’re right.” A guttural laugh comes from him. You begin to feel proud at the fact that you’ve made him laugh. He begins to like you more and more by the second.

He licks his lips, looking you up and down. There was a reason he saved you and took you in as a servant. He called you in for a reason, he was going to fuck you even if he found you boring, but luckily for him, you’re even better than what he imagined. He orders, “Worship me like a God then.”

“I’ll do anything you need me to do, my lord.” You respond, and you watch him undo his robes. You expected this the moment you were called by Uraume to show up before him. Either this, or your demise. You’ve heard rumors that Sukuna has taken many lovers– Partners is the most appropriate word, either way, you didn’t expect him to lay his eyes on you. 

“Do what you must.” He tells you, your eyes landing on the two dicks that stack up on each other. You shouldn’t be shocked, but your eyes can’t help but linger on it. You’re curious, yet excited. 

You’re not sure how to proceed at first so you do what you’ve usually done. You spit in your hand before your lips meet his, and Sukuna is taken back by it. Do you not know where your mouth is supposed to go or…? Your tongue moves past his lips and enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hand wraps around his top cock. 

Your hand begins to stroke his cock while your tongue wanders around his mouth. When you pull away, you get on your knees to put his bottom dick in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip, getting his precum on your tongue. You look up at the man, the expressions on his face telling you that he’s particularly sensitive. You kiss the tip of his cock before taking in as much as you can in your mouth. 

Sukuna grabs the hand that strokes his cock, and guides it, setting a pace that’s more pleasing for him. He notices just how small you are compared to him, and it fucking drives him wild. Your free hand cups his heavy balls before you begin to massage them. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your mouth away from his bottom dick.

“Top one needs attention too, bitch.” He tells you, and you switch. Your mouth wraps around his top dick while you begin to jerk off the bottom one. It’s a bit overwhelming since it’s so much for you, but you’re enjoying the experience. 

You’re looking up at him, reading his every expression. He looks at you as if you were inferior, someone that’s barely even worthy of his consideration. It’s because you are– Though you can’t read the fact that Sukuna is fighting back from making any noise. 

Sukuna groans as you attempt to take more in your mouth. It’s not all, but it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes from gagging. Sukuna chuckles when he sees the tears that stream down your face as you try your best to bring him the most pleasure you can. What you’re doing is doing wonders, but not for the reason you think. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, and he forces your head to stay. Your eyes look the prettiest when they cry because of him.

“Doing a better job than I expected.” Sukuna says, letting go of your head. You take your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You begin to jerk both of his cocks off while you lean up to try and kiss him, but his thumb presses down on your bottom lip before telling you, “Open up.”

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out which allows him to bring his lips together and spit in your mouth. It’s a gift from him to you, one that you gladly accept. He orders you to swallow, and you do so without a problem. You’re a blind follower to his word. 

You’re about to focus on his cocks again, but he forces you up. He wants more. Something different. He rips the cloth that covers you to pieces, and before you can even properly process it, Sukuna has you sitting on his lap. You squeeze your thighs together, a sudden shyness taking over you. As quickly as you shut them is as fast as he spreads them apart, “Too late for you to be shy now, woman.”

Two of his long fingers run through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He isn’t all that surprised that you’re already wet, you’re about to be fucked by your God, of course you’re excited. Your slick goes down to your asshole and he begins to tease it. He wants to bury both of his cocks within you, but he knows that it’ll take a little more adjusting. He isn’t completely ruthless, and sometimes has compassion for things he cares about– Not that he cares about you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either.

Sukuna’s tongue glides from your shoulder to your neck, his bottom set of arms lifting you up. The tip of his cock runs through your folds, and he bites down on your neck when he pushes his cock inside of you. You loudly moan as he fills you up. 

“Is it too much for you? I think you can handle it for your God.” Sukuna says, not giving you a moment to adjust before he begins to bounce you on his cock. He isn’t the type to give out praises, but fuck, you feel so fucking good around him. Almost like a fucking virgin. 

Your nails dig into the supple flesh of his arms, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits every right spot. You’re meant to be pleasing him, yet he’s making you feel euphoric. He’s so generous with you, you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.

“Oh, fuck– Sukuna!” You yell out, and he doesn’t recall ever giving you permission to use his name. But it’s pretty when it rolls off your tongue so he’ll allow it to happen just this once. Perhaps if it was someone else the situation would be different, but he’ll be generous with you this one time. 

Two fingers enter your mouth with the sole purpose of shutting you up. His mouth goes to your ear and he scolds you, “Don’t ever fucking use my name without my fucking permission, stupid bitch.”

He bites down your earlobe gently. He’s too much for you to handle. He moves you with his bottom set of arms, one arm has the hand that gags you, and his final arm goes down, two fingers beginning to play with your clit. You didn’t think that sex with a deity would be so… You’re practically out of the world. You feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Sukuna takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving the hand down to stroke the cock that’s being left out. Being nice comes at a cost to his pleasure, and it’s fair to say that the selfish man doubts he’ll be doing it again. 

Your walls begin to tighten around him, your climax quickly approaching. You have never felt so fucking good before, especially not with a man. You know Sukuna can’t be considered a man though. 

“Fuck– I’m gonna–” You begin, and before you can even finish your sentence, you squirt all over him. Sukuna can’t help but chuckle, smacking your cunt as you release the liquid all over him. That’s certainly a first for him, although it’s not surprising since in sex he always cares about receiving and never about giving. 

You keep holding on to him, your sharp nails nearly digging blood from his skin. He’s grunting, his release near. You feel so fucking good around him, better than he expected. He can’t help but tell you, “Next time, I’m putting both of them in.”

The thought is driving you wild, yet you’re already excited even when he isn’t done with you yet. Sukuna loudly groans when he reaches his climax, cum shooting out both of his cocks. He fills your cunt up, while some of his cum goes to waste in the air. He’ll make sure that he’ll completely stuff you next time though.

Sukuna keeps his cock buried inside of you, catching his unregulated breath. He speaks into your ear, “Look at me, being nice to a little bitch and not completely stuffing her. Next time you’ll have to handle both.”

“I’m sorry, lord.” You respond, and he laughs.

“You did a good job.” He can’t help but compliment you since he hasn’t felt this good in a while, and you’re over the moon with his praise. 

“Thank you.” You reply, fighting back the big smile that threatens to come on your face. Sukuna takes his cock out, and he chuckles as he sees that your clothes are shredded to pieces. “I have to–”

“I’ll call a servant for a new robe for you. Nobody can see you naked but me.” He interrupts you. His hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head to look at every side of your face, “Don’t want anyone to look at my wife naked.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, caught off guard with his words.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to be my wife.”

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan getting really worried when Wade's (metaphorical) mask comes off and he's not the guy dancing on the bar, making boob jokes and kicking people in the face but rather the one with his face in the toilet at the club, promising he's okay while still struggling with the side effects that come with cancer.

"No no, really its fine! Go on, go have fun ill be out in a second!"

And being the emotionally closed off manly man that Logan is, doesn't press about it but still waits outside by the door, not letting people in the bathroom, ending up causing a bar fight because hed rather get punched in the jaw then let someone see Wade like that and embaress him.

Thinking about him coming home with groceries and finding him dead asleep on the couch, but the kind of sleep that looks like it was taken by force rather than comfy. The kind where you pass out because your body has had enough and just coming to check on him every couple of minutes before eventually sitting next to him and just waits until he wakes up.

Al can't see. But she's had a smug look on her face ever since Logan has walked in the door because she can hear him walking back and forth to go check on her room mate.

"You're really worried about him, ain't you?"

"What?"

"He's fine, you know. He does that. Go on. Go do what ever it was you angry men do."

But he doesn't go. He stays put. Like a loyal dog at his owners death bed, hoping if he stares enough, he'll get better. Eventually, he falls asleep too And Al is going to tease them both about this for the next month. She took photos to prove it.

Soon enough, it evolves into him picking up tasks so that Wade can rest but refuses to tell him why. He doesn't want to embarrass him and make it feel like a big deal.

"Alright. Well, I'm gonna go walk mary puppins. You want anything from the bodega?"

"No.. actually.. could I walk her? I can take her. Being in this apartment is killing me."

"What need to get your steps in or something?"

"Something like that."

"Ah I get it. Wild cat needs to prowl. Well alright. But dont be taking our baby to any skanks house! Shes too innocent!"

[inkedinshadows]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Azriel × reader

A/N: so here it is, my first Azriel fic! I'm so excited to share this and I hope you all enjoy it too.

Summary: The bond snapped for Azriel the moment he saw her, thrown into the Cauldron with Elain and Nesta. Now, he wants to help her as she struggles to cope with what happened.

Warnings: angst, ptsd, mention of pain and drowning

Word count: 3.6k

֍֍֍֍֍

It had been one week since Y/N was kidnapped and thrown into the Cauldron. One week since Azriel had found his mate. Even bloodied, with an arrow in his chest, only barely conscious, he’d taken one heavy-lidded look at her and just known.

He’d awoken three days later, still a bit weak but finally able to stand up, to walk. To go see her.

For four days now, Azriel had brought a tray of food to her room, asked her if she needed anything, and told her not to hesitate to tell someone if she did. Sometimes she would shake her head or answer in a whisper with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Sometimes she would just look at him, though it was as if she couldn’t really see him. But most often, she would keep staring at the wall or out the window, not showing any sign that she even realized he’d walked in.

Azriel knew she was struggling. Mor and Rhys had gotten even less of a reaction out of her. Cassian was still healing. Elain and Nesta were trying to adapt as well, each in their own way, and though Y/N was their sister’s friend, neither of the girls had asked to see her. Nor her them, for that matter. So Azriel had taken it upon himself to check on her a couple of times every day.

He knocked gently on her door, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. But she wasn’t sleeping, his shadows confirmed that. Despite his initial protest, a few tendrils had slipped away from his control and now lingered in the darker corners of her room. He’d thought it a violation of her privacy, but she was his mate and she was struggling, and a part of him was glad that his shadows would keep an eye on her. Were eager to, was more like it. So he’d let them.

Azriel pushed the door open and was not surprised to find Y/N sitting in front of the window. It was either that or she’d be curled up on her bed. This time, though, her gaze slid toward him as he took a step inside, and when their eyes met for even just a second, his heart raced in his chest.

“Hello, Azriel,” she said quietly, and her soft voice pronouncing his name for the first time was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat before taking a few steps forward. He stood a few feet from her, afraid he might startle her. She’d spoken to him, had been the first one to do so, and he considered it progress. He wouldn’t ruin it. “I just wanted to check on you.”

His eyes took her in, and he felt the urge, the need, to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and hold her. She’d turned toward the window again, but he could still see the dark circles under her eyes and her haunted expression. Her posture was rigid, her skin pale, her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. And as he scanned the room, he noticed the tray of food he’d brought her that morning. Untouched.

“You didn’t eat anything,” he added gently, and he had to bite his tongue before he could add ‘again’. She would rarely take one or two bites of food, and it was starting to show. But Azriel knew he couldn’t force her to eat and he was still trying to find a way to convince her.

A few heartbeats passed before Y/N answered, still not looking at him. “I’m not hungry.”

Azriel shoved down his rising frustration. That was not what she needed. But seeing his mate suffer like this, unable to eat, to sleep, and not knowing what to do to help her was driving him crazy.

He debated leaving her alone and maybe go talk to Rhys, asking him whether he knew if there was something else Azriel could do, some kind of help only a mate could provide. That would entail revealing Y/N was his mate, but if it was the only way… besides, his family had probably already understood it. Rhys and Amren, at least.

Azriel looked at her one last time, but she was still staring outside. She’d fallen into her trance once more. He opened his mouth to bid her goodbye, but that’s when he realized it.

Her nightgown. It was the same one she was wearing that morning. And the day before. And the one before that one. He’d never seen her wear anything else, actually. Had she not changed since she’d arrived here?

He frowned, glancing at the drawer before focusing on her again, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. Tentative, almost. “Do you need some clean clothes?”

That got a reaction out of her. She looked down at her nightgown, then at the door that led to the bathroom before finally looking at him. But her eyes dropped as she answered. “I can’t take a bath.”

The words were barely audible even in the silent room, and yet they hit Azriel like a punch to the gut. She couldn’t take a bath. Couldn’t, probably because it brought back memories of the Cauldron. His heart clenched and he had to take a deep breath to calm down and not go back to Hybern to deal with the king all by himself.

His shadows lunged forward as if they wanted to reassure her, but he held them back. He approached her slowly, stopping just in front of her. He crouched down next to her and waited for her to meet his eyes before speaking.

“Let me help,” he said, unable to hide his concern any longer. He wanted to erase that haunted look from her eyes and he’d do anything to make her feel safe and protected again.

“You’re not alone, Y/N,” he continued, his tone gentle. In his mind, he was cursing himself for not having thought she might experience this kind of problem. “I could help you bathe. We can do it at your pace and stop whenever you wish.”

She stared into his eyes and it felt like an eternity passed before she nodded. Relief flooded his chest at her trust, her willingness to finally let someone help her.

Without a word, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. Azriel followed her, his wings tucked in tight behind his back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew one thing: he’d do anything in his power to help her, now and forever.

~~~~~~

Y/N watched the water slowly fill the tub. Her heart was already pounding in her chest, but she could feel Azriel next to her and somehow it steadied her.

Being around him was weird. She couldn’t point out what it was exactly that made her feel that way. There was just something about him that made all her senses go on alert, and yet she wouldn’t describe it as an uncomfortable feeling. Not to mention how Azriel was one of the few things she remembered from that day in Hybern. The Cauldron, and him. His body covered in blood, with that arrow protruding from his chest. And the relief she’d felt the first time she saw him walk into her room, healed.

“Y/N?”

She blinked, the tub now filled before her. Azriel said something else, but she wasn’t listening. A frown appeared on her face as she stared down at the water like it was her worst enemy. She guessed it was, in a way. Especially after what had happened when she’d tried to take a bath a few days ago. But Azriel was right. She wasn’t alone now. Maybe this time would be different.

She hadn’t changed her nightgown since she’d been given it a week ago simply because she couldn’t stand the sight of her own body. It didn’t feel like hers anymore. It didn’t look much different from when she was human, other than the arched Fae ears, but now it felt like it was someone else’s. Like it didn’t belong to her.

But she now let it fall off her body, not even noticing the shadows that shot forward to cover her nakedness. She didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything other than that tub and what was about to happen.

With a steadying breath, she climbed inside. The shadows didn’t follow her into the warm water, leaving her completely exposed, and maybe in another situation she would have blushed. Just a week ago, she would have. But now there was only her and the water, reaching up almost to her shoulders, and for the first few moments she thought it was going to be fine.

And then she was in the Cauldron again.

She began shaking as the dark water rose and rose, and it was now at her neck, and she knew it’d soon reach her mouth and her nose, and then it’d submerge her and the pain would begin. Every cell in her body was yelling at her to get out, to swim toward the surface, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

She could hear a muffled voice coming from outside the Cauldron, but she couldn’t make out the words. The world was quickly disappearing, the water rising, and she was trapped, trapped under the surface, trapped in the darkness. Soon she’d feel that excruciating pain again, as if her body was being ripped apart, slowly and thoroughly.

Tears were streaming down her face and she sobbed, drawing her legs close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She began to rock back and forth and maybe she was begging for it to stop, to never start, maybe she was screaming or calling out for someone, maybe she wasn’t saying anything at all.

As that dark freezing water closed above her and pulled her under, she knew the pain would come soon. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was drowning and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do, nothing she could…

A tender, gentle touch on her cheek. From far away, someone called her name. And among the chaos, the darkness, the crippling fear, she saw a pair of hazel eyes, soft and yet concerned. A male voice assuring her that she was safe, that he was with her.

She wanted to believe that voice, but the water was pulling her under, cold and dark and terrifying. But that gentle voice was still talking to her, those hazel eyes still looking into hers, and she tried to hold on to them, to not let it all slip away.

And then someone took her hand and suddenly she felt something thumping beneath her palm. A heartbeat, she realized. Life.

Heartbeat meant life. Not death, not pain.

Life.

“Breathe with me, Y/N.”

She didn’t know where the voice was coming from, how it could sound so clear and close when she was drowning in the depths of the Cauldron.

“One breath in, one breath out.”

That heartbeat was steady, the voice gentle, those hazel eyes still in front of her. Like a light in the dark. She had to reach them, somehow.

“Can you do it for me, Y/N?”

She didn’t know if she could, but she wanted to. Her lungs were full of water and she was drowning, dragged down and down in the endless pit of the Cauldron, pain tearing her apart as she sank. But the voice never stopped. It kept telling her she was safe, asking her to stay with him, to breathe with him. And so she did, following his instructions.

One breath in, one breath out.

She stared into those beautiful eyes.

One breath in, one breath out.

She focused on that heart beating against her palm.

One breath in, one breath out.

The Cauldron disappeared. She blinked, and Azriel was there. He was kneeling next to the tub, his hands holding hers against his chest, on his heart. There was a small smile on his face.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re doing great,” he said, his tone reassuring and soothing. “You’re here with me. You’re safe now. No one will harm you, I promise.”

She had stopped shaking and rocking, but tears were still running down her cheeks. Azriel just kept murmuring praises and reassurances, his eyes never leaving hers. And finally, after what felt like hours, she stopped crying.

She watched as Azriel wiped away her tears, as he leaned in to brush a kiss on her forehead. “You’re alright,” he whispered, and she believed him, but her eyes never left him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You’re doing great, Y/N,” he continued, his voice low and soothing.

She didn’t stop him when he picked up a sponge, poured some scented soap on it, and then began to pass it over her arm, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid of hurting her. But even if he wasn’t looking at her anymore, she kept her eyes on his face and her hand pressed against his chest. She still needed to feel his heartbeat, his breathing, so that she could sync it with her own.

But slowly, as Azriel passed the sponge on her arms, her shoulders, her back, she began to relax. He’d pulled her back to reality and he was now washing her with such gentleness, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“Azriel…” she murmured, her hand finally falling away from his chest. She could breathe on her own now, though a bit shakily.

He paused mid-scrub, his sponge on her neck. “I’m here, Y/N,” he said as he met her eyes. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. She wasn’t alright, but she was better than before. And this time, thanks to him, she hadn’t spent hours trapped in the tub, only to bolt out once she’d regained control, without having even touched the soap. Even now, though, she had to fight to keep the fear at bay.

“No,” she murmured. Once again, Azriel’s presence made her feel comfortable enough to share that truth and let herself be vulnerable. It was like an innate feeling in her chest, encouraging her to trust him.

She saw the concern in his eyes as she answered and how he seemed to tense a little, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he offered her the sponge and gestured vaguely to her body, as if to tell her to take over the task. “I’ll wash your hair.”

Before she could say anything, he was already moving behind her and filling a jug with water. While she finished washing her body, Azriel took care of her hair, a hand shielding her forehead and her eyes. She didn’t know if it was just a random precaution or if he could somehow sense that getting water on her face would bring back the memories of the Cauldron. Something told her it was the latter.

She even went as far as closing her eyes, relaxing slightly under his gentle care.

~~~~~~

Azriel felt her relax, and a small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to rinse her hair.

He'd seen the terror and horror seize her body and her mind, his heart breaking at the sight and at the sound of her weak voice just repeating the word ‘please’ over and over. She'd been so lost in it that he couldn't reach her, and he'd been about to pick her up and out of the tub when he'd had an idea and decided to try one last thing. Fortunately, his heartbeat worked, and he was proud of her for pushing through and coming back to reality. Back to him.

Once her hair was clean, she looked so relaxed that Azriel just wanted to make her feel like that for a little longer. He picked up the comb and started to run it through her hair, making sure no tangles remained.

She stirred a bit but didn't say anything. He was glad he could help her now, at least. When she'd been shoved into the Cauldron, he was so hurt and weak that he couldn't do anything more than take one little step in her direction before his brothers held him back.

“I'm all done,” he said after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence they'd fallen into. “Would you like to stay here a bit longer?”

She shook her head and immediately rose from the tub, her body dripping water. Azriel made sure to have his shadows cover her nakedness again as he offered her a towel, but it still wasn't enough to prevent his heart from pounding in his chest.

Though it stopped as soon as she stepped out of the tub, and he noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” he asked. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe he'd done something wrong or overstepped in some way. But she had seemed so calm and relaxed till a few moments ago…

She took a step toward him and reached out, gently taking his hand. “I… I just don't know how to thank you,” she murmured, and Azriel felt relief wash over him. “What you've just done for me, I… I can't thank you enough for it.”

Azriel smiled, then. A reassuring, soft smile as he gave her hand a tender squeeze. “You don't need to. You needed help, and I'm glad I was the one who could offer it to you.”

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded anyway and stepped back, releasing his hand. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He wanted to tell her, then. That he'd always be there for her, whatever she needed, because she was his mate and he couldn't stand to see her suffer. But he couldn't tell her, not now, not when she was still so vulnerable.

Instead, he replied, “I told you. You don't have to thank me.”

Azriel wanted to wipe away her tears, to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to make all her fears and worries disappear. And maybe one day they could get there. For now, he just gave her another smile. “I’ll let you get dressed. But if you need anything else, please let me know. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

He began to walk out and toward her room’s door, his shadows lingering close to her for a second before they drifted back to their master. And as his hand grabbed the handle, he heard her soft voice calling him once more.

“Azriel?”

He turned back to her. She was standing in the bathroom doorway, still wrapped in the towel, and she was chewing on her lower lip, as if not sure she should continue. When she didn’t say anything, he stepped away from the door. “Yes, Y/N?”

It took her one more moment before she finally answered. “I’d like to sleep, but I… I usually can’t, with all the nightmares. But I’m so tired and I thought…” She paused and he could see she was getting embarrassed. He’d just helped her bathe and she hadn’t shied away, but now she was nervous about whatever she was going to ask? He tilted his head, not sure where this was going, and she continued. “I feel like I can trust you, like I’m safe with you. And after what you did for me, I thought… would you mind staying with me a bit longer? Just until I fall asleep, I promise.”

Her words were so unexpected that he didn’t react at first. Helping her bathe had been his idea, and she’d just agreed. But knowing her trust was enough for her to ask this, that he made her feel safe after everything she’d been through… it warmed his heart.

She must have misunderstood his silence, because she began babbling. “Or not, I guess. I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought… I shouldn’t have taken for granted you would–”

“Y/N,” Azriel interrupted, taking one step toward her. “I don’t mind. I’d gladly stay, if that’s what you want.”

A hint of a smile graced her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, his breath catching at the sight of that first tiny, shy smile. “You can trust me, and you are safe with me.” He gestured toward her dresser. “Now get changed. You deserve some rest.”

She nodded and Azriel made sure to look out the window as she put on a clean nightgown. He then moved the chair she’d been sitting on earlier close to her bed and watched her climb under the sheets. Even pale and tired, she looked beautiful, with her damp hair spread out on the pillow.

“I know you said I don’t have to,” she murmured, her eyes scanning his face, “but I’ll never thank you enough for this.”

Azriel just smiled. “Try to sleep, Y/N. Don’t worry about that.”

She curled up into herself, her eyes closing, yet she still whispered one more thing. “Just until I fall asleep. Then you can go.”

“I know.”

Now that she couldn’t see them, his shadows seized the opportunity to leave his side and curled through her hair, as if they too found it hard to keep away. He didn’t try to stop them or make them fall back, not when her expression relaxed even more and her breathing became slow and deep.

He wanted to be there, in case she’d wake up because of the nightmares she’d mentioned. So even long after she’d fallen asleep, Azriel kept watch over his mate.

֍֍֍֍֍

Read part 2 here!

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — gepard, luocha, jiaoqiu

— warnings. — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dub con, established relationship -> the both of you decide to take them before bed, petnames used: love, baby, sweetheart

⚝ — GEPARD

gepard sat beside you, his armor long since discarded and positioned on the floor, leaving him in a simple, white shirt that clung to his broad frame— yes, nothing happened yet, however, his cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the room, more or less because of you— or perhaps something else called excitement.

"you’re sure about this?" he looked at you, his entire attention drawn to your lips as his usual command softened by the intimacy of the moment and your body unbearably close to him.

you take his hand and nod, holding up the small bottle of aphrodisiacs you both had decided to take together, "only if you are," there wasn't necessarily a reason as to why you wanted to do this, if anything, the eagerness of what the thick liquid could bring forth was exhilarating.

with a soft sigh, you took the dose, first gepard and then you.

the effect was immediate, deeply engulfing your nervous system like a black hole swallowing you on instant, wrecking havoc— with heat, scorching hot sparks, spreading from your core outward, leaving you breathless.

you’re beginning to feel faint throbs settle under your skin and there's an unknown tingling that quells at the base of your spine— you begin to slightly panic, yet gepard took it upon himself to lead the both of you as he laid down next to you, his rough palms skimming up your hips, squeezing at the skin— strong, defined arms wrapped around you until your back was pressed tight against him.

his growing bulge nudges against your naked folds, but it only choses to make your want for your boyfriend burn hotter as he inserts himself slowly, you walls squeezing at the thick muscle when he gasps out, whimpering when he rests his heavy palm on your hip so he can feel the fever from your boiling skin.

this position was not only his favorite, but in this scenario it felt the absolute safest— you trusted gepard the most, knew he would put everything into consideration for it to feel good for you.

"i've never wanted anything so badly," you whine, breathing ragged as you begin to grind back at him. he slides his fingers towards your clit before spreading your liquids lewdly as everything around you turned dangerously intoxicating, dazed and like you lost absolute control of your cunt moulding and pushing him farther in.

gepard’s eyes darkened as he leaned into your shoulder and smirks, then grunts when your pussy milked him fiercely, forcing you to feel every little detail of his cock, heavy throbs, his thick load already splattering inside your thrumming spots, "i didn’t expect it to feel like this…"

he adds, "this ugh, good, fuck," the sensation was overwhelming, the world outside fading away as his hands roamed over your skin, each touch igniting something deeper— you feel dazed, yes, your movements lead by the purity of desire as his first actual, rough thrust of hips rewired the entirety of your brain, your lips parting to moan as your fingers twist into the pillows below you.

⚝ — LUOCHA

you felt electric, a quiet tension lingering between you as you messily made out with luocha, tongue's colliding as his golden eyes glimmer with intrigue, his usual mysterious demeanor giving a clear path-way to something more primal, more otherworldly.

it's been a couple of minutes after you've taken the aphrodisiac and fuck— it's surely working, you're sweating all over, hair a mess, your nipples erected and swollen— not only that but the way luocha dragged his cock out of you was slow, teasing, wet after he's given you a couple seconds to get used to the thickness of him, which only felt much bulgier due to the aphrodisiac doing its magic.

you cry out his name, your skin shaking and pussy so desperately in need to be touched more at the constant draw backs of his hips rocking you apart, like each thrust of his dripping dick lasted forever and ever, your cunt clasping around and making you melt into his flesh with every raw drag.

his hands were on your waist, your legs on his shoulders, and well, luocha wasn't cruel— no, but those positions felt the best, you were the tightest when he squeezed you together like a cute, little toy, finding you absolutely ravishing with your spasming cunt holding him in.

"my love, you look… breathtaking, like this," there's a carnal hint in his tone as he grunts, his voice rough and blurry, "so fucking tight, hah, i can barely move."

⚝ — JIAOQIU

"it seems the effect is… potent," jiaoqiu laughs into your skin, cheeks pinched up with champagne pink and his lips brushed against your neck with you slowly wrapping your palm around his length, stroking him, pressing him tight against your slick folds with every wet connection of his shaft.

the man jolts when you're teasing him with your entrance, he trembles when he curls over you deeper— his heavy weight automatically pressing his cock against your hole as he laps along your throat towards your jaw, "t-that feels nice, so much more intense," jiaoqiu pants, his fingers twitching in the flesh of your body.

his name fell from your lips like a plea, and his response was immediate— his grip tightening, it's just a little motion, yes, back and forth, back and forth, only inserting his tip and pulling out, not even anywhere near the good parts if it wasn't for the aphrodisiac,

it's nice, wet, and your pussy quivers as if he's already all the way in.

"i want you, baby, now," you babble against his lips, the repeated touch of his cock making goosebumps appear along the slopes of your body as you sigh out his name again, "you have me, sweetheart, you have me right there,"

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[takes1]

bokuto fucking your insecurities away

i LOVE his character. very fun to write. would love to do any requests for him!! working on an oikawa request now :)

warnings. nsfw. conversations around body image issues info. nsfw / rough sex / friend sex / chubby!reader / insecure!reader / bokuto has a praise thing / impatient!bokuto / airhead!bokuto / sweet!bokuto / bokuto likes big girls / dumb dick bokuto / pool party setting / 2.3k words

haikyuu collection. more here. links. masterlist / my ao3 / request box

Watchful eyes tracked the arrival of a group of girls from the house to the poolside, all clad in their colorful swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, and smiles.

Bokuto bumped a serve up to Akaashi and grinned at the perfect opportunity to show off in front of you.

SLAM! Right into the water on the other side of the net, splashing Washio hard in the face.

He cursed loud at his unnecessary force, but quickly shut himself up when the girls came walking around the side of the pool. He pushed the water off of his face with flexed arms.

Something was wrong, though. Bokuto swam to the side of the deep-end and pushed his body up to sit on the edge despite the game going on.

"Hey!" He waved enthusiastically to a couple of girls and brought them over.

They were more than happy to bend over in front of his sculpted, shiny body, but his attention was only taken by your absence.

"Where's (Y/n)?"

They frowned and stood back up, half-heartedly mentioning that you wouldn't come out of the room they all changed in, and walked away.

That just wouldn't do. He turned to look at the house.

"Put a towel on before you go inside!!" Akaashi called, exasperated he even had to tell him.

"AAAAAHH!!" Was his response; as good at articulating his frustration as any that he had to jog the distance back for a stupid towel.

Akaashi rolled his eyes into setting another ball. Bokuto rolled his eyes, too, and slid the screen door open.

It was so cold inside, his skin prickled up instantly. He wished you'd just come out already-- enjoy the warm sunshine, let him rub sunscreen all over you, lay on his chest in the pool. His stomach pooled with heat at the fantasy of it all.

Oh, you were coming out of that room even if he had to drag you out.

Just before his hand grabbed the doorknob, he thought better for a second. A loud, rhythmic knock.

"(Y/n)!! Come outside!" He yelled into the door.

He didn't spare a single second more to linger when he heard a faint sniffle.

You weren't a mess, but your eyes were still stinging and you were not happy to be walked in on when you had nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt over your bikini, even if it was Bokuto.

His proportions were ridiculous. Giant, hulking shoulders and a strong, wide back dipped deliciously into his tiny waist. Itty-bitty trunks showed off his powerful thighs, though he was dripping all over the carpet.

In a way, it only brought you back down to the feeling that you were not up-to-snuff to walk out in your bathing suit with all these athletic bodies outside.

"What the hell?" He yelled; not at you, just at the fact that you were clothed, and clearly trying to not cry.

A couple steps forward made you tense. He caught this, so he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Being soft wasn't one of his strong suits, but he tried with you.

His affinity for you was never-ending after he passed you one day in the hallway. One big, empty-headed smile was all it took to start your odd friendship. He used this one interaction to wedge his way up to 'studying' with your small, academic club.

His eccentricities made him charming and personable to talk to, but Bokuto was undeniably attractive and even more popular. So, you weren't sure why he associated with you, since he never paid attention in your study group.

You pushed the wet off of your face with the heel of your hand and tried to sober up a little, "I'm going home."

Your voice sounded so hoarse and weak, you regretted saying anything and not just walking out when you had the chance.

Bokuto laughed as if you were really joking.

Instead of trying to explain yourself to him, which historically never went well in your favor, you grabbed your pants off of the floor.

His gaze dropping and necessary palming of his growing ache wasn't subtle, but you couldn't see it. That tiny shirt didn't cover your ass; he had to savor the sight.

His head spun with confusion and the beginnings of frustration at the sight of more clothes, "What are you doing?"

He tried again, desperate to keep you from putting on those pants, and closed the distance between you, "Come oooon, let's just go out there and have some fun! We're playin' some ball- I want'cha to watch me win!"

His big, adoring eyes chipped at your guard. Instead of getting lost in them, you looked to the side, to the corner you were changing in when you first started feeling like this bikini was a horrible idea.

A frown made his entire face droopy when he saw your expression harden.

"I should've gotten a one-piece," You muttered.

It took a few moments for him to process what was so bad about that. It took him longer to come up with a response, which gave you enough time to shiver at the lack of space he gave you.

You felt horrible that you wanted to leave him, since he was the reason you were invited and had the courage to wear something like this in the first place. It just didn't stand up to how overwhelming the possibility of judgement might be.

Bokuto closed the gap even more so you'd look up at him, face set, "You always think too hard about this stuff."

Frustrated that he couldn't even grasp at the concept, you gripped your shirt harder.

He let up, physically unable to keep a mean mug on his face for more than a few seconds.

"I'm sure ya look real good-," His wild and unruly imagination inspired an obvious up-and-down with his eyes. Your heart skipped at his intense energy.

"So come on!" He tore himself away, grabbed your wrist, and didn't give you the chance to pick apart his tone, "Let's go!"

You weren't moving despite his jerk towards the door. A frustrated sigh made you feel a bit smaller.

He was pretty imposing when he was close to you, and not his usual high-energy self.

This topic of contention wasn't new. He brushed away your usual self-deprecating jokes, and called you cute on a number of occasions-- you thought it was a joke, or just politeness. But he never got irritated before.

"Need me to prove it?" His thumb hooked under his the hem of his trunks and pulled on them enough to make you give a quick, uneven:

"N-o,"

One uncontrollable glance down, and your face was burning fast.

You were pretty sure you just saw his dick. He laughed at your sheepish reaction and slapped a hand to the back of his neck.

"I dunno how else to convince you that you're fuckin' gorgeous."

You tried to pretend not to see him adjust, but he was watching you, like an owl waiting for his mousey dinner. It was difficult to not feel aroused and curious when you were so plainly desired and lusted after by this big, stupid hottie.

The air between you was warm and still.

After a moment of deliberation, your fingers gripped the edges of your shirt and you lifted it off. It was more of a test to see if he still felt the same.

"Damn," He sighed, lids heavy, thumb still hooked to his trunks.

His free hand guided your face up to his- you found no reason to deny him a needy, raunchy kiss. He was so forward, there was no room to doubt or overthink his intentions when his hands were filling with your hips and chest so fervently.

You had never felt so wanted before.

The ease in which he picked you up and set you onto the bed forced a startled moan against his lips.

He sucked a toothy kiss to the side of your mouth with a boyish giggle, "Sooo pretty."

This time, you took his compliment as it was intended. Unlike the countless other times he told you that and you assumed the worst.

He was only gone for the moment it took for him to wrench his own trunks off, leaving him completely bare with a generous size straining against the air.

Being naked truly didn't bother him at all. He looked so natural it was like he could walk outside like that, completely fine.

You envied his simplistic mind.

His cock was burning hot against your skin once he sandwiched it between yourself and his weight.

If there was one thing you could tell from his messy, rushed kissing, it was that he hated taking things slow. It took a few deliberate whines to keep him from yanking on the bottom piece of your bikini.

He melted at your successful efforts and the squeeze of your legs around his hips.

Your hands fluttered over his strong back, pushing, pulling, poking here and there at some hard muscles that you didn't even know existed. You wanted to enjoy as much of him as you could.

To keep his discomfort at bay, he rubbed himself against your softness, breath labored and hot on your lips.

"'Need you so fuckin' bad," He laughed, unable to cope with his peaked impatience.

This time you didn't fight his efforts to remove your bikini bottoms-- but you gasped at his unhinged lick to the inside, where you had been slowly getting them wet.

He tossed them to the side with a smile and pulled you to the edge of the mattress so he could stand. This was better for his control, in his opinion.

The guy had clocked this height to work before you had even expressed any interest much earlier.

Another few kisses you had to reign him in for and he was sliding against you, getting himself coated with your wet, yearning to be inside you already.

It helped that he gave you such a good view.

His hands kept your twitchy, plush thighs still as he pushed into you.

You gave a fretful sound, not quite as prepared for his size as you preferred.

A guttural groan escaped from him, one that only further proved his bottomless lust as valid. You watched his face tighten, then drop into something a bit sleepier- it helped you adjust better, feeling, seeing, hearing exactly how much he wanted you.

His big, strong hand grabbed the bottom half of your face, "That feel good, baby?"

He didn't wait for you to respond to him before stealing a few hungry, rough kisses from your puffy lips.

When he pulled away after stealing enough of your breath, his head flew back and left you to watch his taut, muscular body twitch and flex as he fucked deeper into your cunt.

An absolute piece of art was taking you, in a stranger's bed no less.

"Ah-h!" You whined as he set an intense pace.

His cock felt so good, stretching you out over and over again, and you gladly adjusted to his unquestionable enthusiasm.

A handsome, boyish sound was his giddy chuckle, "Ya like that?"

Those skilled, eager thrusts resonated throughout your entire body- he watched your tits bounce in your strappy top under him in a stupid daze. His hands were filled with the plush of your hips, constantly stretching to grab and pull more of you onto him.

He fucked you like he'd never get the chance to again. Under his touch, you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Nothing else mattered much in comparison.

"Fuck, yeah," It came out in a whimper, but still captivated him like you'd muttered some spell.

His satisfied moan at your affirmation was choked and uneven. He nabbed one of your wrists to place a kiss on, but his pussy-fixated brain could handle one thing at a time.

You needed him deeper- fuck, he looked so pretty panting on your wrist like that.

The squeeze of your thighs stalled him. His eyes were filled with a confused, yet intrigued restlessness when you pushed on him so you could flip over.

"Mm, yeah, yeah- That's so-o fucking hot!!" Bokuto whined.

He let you take the lead because he loved seeing your confidence shine through. It was beyond sexy watching you own it and put your ass in the air for him.

"Oh, f-uck," He moaned, breathless as he sunk into you.

You squeezed around him when he landed a hard slap on your soft, supple skin.

Yeah, this was all you needed. Next time you were feeling down, this perfect man could just fuck the insecurity out of you.

You settled into a deep stretch with a nice arch for him and felt a calloused hand pressing into your lower back to keep you still.

He certainly hated wasting time.

At this point you leaned into it, crying whiny curses into the pillow beneath you while he fucked you hard.

His heart skipped a few beat when you cried, uneven at each thrust, "Feel s-o good, Bokuto"

His nails dug hard into your ass, his breath getting choppier, voice raspy when he told you, "Been waitin' so long."

He laughed, barely swallowing his own whine at the threat of needing to cum so bad.

"You'll get this- h-ah," He winced, having to stall a moment when you clenched around him, "Nex-t 'ime you wanna act all fuckin' shy..."

Your climax was hard and fast, rendering you a bit lightheaded as he pounded his last few strokes out and finished all over your ass.

Everything was hot and hazy when he rolled onto his back next to you. You slid so you were laying onto your tummy.

His big, goofy grin was a bit cloudy in your vision: "One more?"

requests: open

masterlist

[yestrday]

— BLUSH BLUSH ! anemo | hydro | geo | pyro

⤷ yan! hybrid! neuvillette, diluc, thoma, bennett, gaming, lyney

summary ! a connection to fire doesn't ultimately mean hot-headed, but these hybrids are equally passionate in their love for you. like a moth to a flame, you are taken in by their warmth, not noticing when the heat starts to sear.

content ! overprotectiveness; mentions of múrder; mention of breaking your limbs

notes ! oh and there's neuvillette too ig

for such a hybrid of his nature, the way you encountered NEUVILLETTE was entirely… ordinary. you were just out on a walk with zhongli to the village below after offering to run some errands. it was purely out of the desire to stretch your legs instead of being cramped in that manor, but that decision had led you to encounter one of the rarest beings alive… scooping water out of the nearby river and tasting it. you had gawked at him, eyes darting from the river to the sediments floating in his… wine glass? silently, he made a toast to you and sipped from the water. “earthy,” he had said, with all the refinement of a wine connoisseur. 

you had been ecstatic when NEUVILLETTE introduced himself to you as a dragon hybrid, making that the fourth of the mythical hybrids you’ve met so far. zhongli was less than pleased, pursing his lips and choosing to say one or two curt greetings for the sake of basic politeness. you’re not as dense as the others make you out to be, but even if you were, anyone could tell that something was going on between the two hybrids. the way they exchange glances, human eyes turning into territorial slits for a few seconds before going back to normal as they entertain you… yeah, something’s up. 

NEUVILLETTE had already caught wind of a benevolent young master who had one too many hybrids under their roof, so he had no qualms about introducing himself as a hybrid to you. something about you had already captivated him first-hand. perhaps it’s your eyes, filled with the naivete of a sheltered child but unafraid of knowing the curiosities of the world. or maybe it’s how your expression turned to that of glee when he introduced himself as a hybrid, overjoyed rather than fearful of his mythical status. when you walked him back to your manor, it was clear how well you took care of your hybrids with the way they greeted you warmly and clung to your side. … perhaps, this was the peaceful harmony between humans and hybrids that he had always longed to see.

except the longer he stayed in your manor, the more he could sense that something sinister was brewing underneath the surface. it didn’t come from the human housestaff or the human… you. you, who was as fallible as any human, was not the cause of this unease he was feeling. the more he observed your hybrids, the more he unraveled the image of this so-called found family. some of them touch you far too inappropriately for human standards, others sway you with carefully crafted words laced with sweet smiles, and gentle tones, and there are the occasional slip-ins to your drink and food when you glance away. all this he watches from afar, still too estranged from the others to make any comment about it. he realizes that rather than a house made for them, this was a cage they had created to be yours.

he had ought to bring this up with you, about the things they do to you. NEUVILLETTE could not see any of their actions as anything other than a strange displacement of obsession and it was only just that you become aware of it, if you hadn’t already. but one day you were called to your father’s in the city, and a week later you had come back looking a little blank and dead. your eyes were puffy from crying too much yet you forced yourself to smile (albeit shakily and weakly) whenever the hybrids had asked about your welfare. aether led you back to your room, shooting them all a glance before they all shared the same knowing glance and dispersed. it was only later that he realized the precarious position you were born into, with a father who could care less and high society’s eyes on you.

NEUVILLETTE is soft and gentle when he handles you. he speaks in that firm yet endearing voice, gentlemanly in all his conduct, and not once seeming to take advantage of you. he’s part of the education team, teaching you about language arts and sometimes even judicial subjects that would aid you should you ever step back into high society. those subjects are there for you to use for your own… agenda, but NEUVILLETTE doesn’t exactly have the heart to raise you to be a conniving manipulator, so he quietly leaves that to ayato. 

NEUVILLETTE hasn’t felt a strong desire for anything in his long, long life, but that has changed ever since had met you. one smile from you was enough to break down the walls that had been built up over the centuries, enough to make him want you. to have you wrapped in his embrace, to hold your hands in his, to wipe away the tears caused by the harsh society you were born in. he wants to treat you gently, believe him, but it’s so hard to do when instincts are creeping up on him— to bruise your wrist whenever you try to let go, to trap you in this manor to protect you, to have so prettily dolled up in the treasures of the world that you’d never want to go anywhere else… 

… but having you here right now, laughing at the cream on his nose, is more than enough. the hybrids do well to protect you and he does his best too. he hopes that this domestic bliss with you all will never end and that those monstrous instincts that want to… do things to you… will forever be kept in the dark.

RELATIONSHIPS: zhongli is a bit more fearful of him than he lets on, but the territorial instinct within him always tries to rile up neuvillette whenever they meet. neuvi isn’t one to lose to another dragon so easily. but on a lighter note, he enjoys tea time with wriothesley and aether and advises the younger hybrids whenever they need it.

DILUC is a peregrine falcon who has been skulking in the shadows of city life ever since he escaped from his previous owner. aether had come across him while he was on one of his stakeouts and after seeing the horrible state the hybrid was in, invited him to your manor. for the first weeks, he was obviously apprehensive, but seeing how well the hybrids were being taken care of, eased up you over time.

DILUC lives a relatively quiet life in your manor, helping out in the kitchen or going out on patrols whenever needed. he’s quite famous among the hybrids and servants for his bartending skills, and when the night calls for it he can be found stirring behind the counter to entertain some of the more liquor-inclined hybrids. venti is one of his usual patriots, strumming on his lyre for the entire manor. DILUC is a bit fearful of serving you alcoholic drinks, especially in a manor full of hybrids ready to pounce on you at any time, so when you order one he tends to leave out the alcohol and just let the placebo effect run its course.

one of the strongest from your non-mythical hybrids, he gets pestered by the others to clean up their messes. he looks irritated and will scold them for their incompetence, but he cleans up after them nonetheless. sometimes, you can catch him sparring with the younger hybrids as he instructs them on their posture and strategy. his words are harsh, but you can tell by how he pats their head and how fondly he thinks of them.

when it comes to you, however, DILUC noticeably becomes softer. he speaks to you softly rather than grumpily, and you often find yourself blushing with how tender he treats you sometimes. he’s quite patient with your mistakes and is happy to guide you through them. there’s nothing more he wants than to see you grow into a splendid and pure person, untouched by the corruption of society. he wishes that your eyes will stay the same, naive and innocent, that you won’t ever have to be burdened by your status as heir. alas, he knows that it’s nothing more than wishful thinking.

he’s taught himself how to suppress his hybrid traits, feeling nothing but distaste for them as they were the one thing his previous owner coveted so much. his wings were nothing more than a symbol of his inferiority, the natural chirps that’d come with his speech embarrassing, and his animal form a vulnerability that could be easily targeted. indeed, he’s been living most of his days as a human rather than a hybrid, but that couldn’t possibly be healthy for him. you try to encourage him to let himself go, and although he’s long forgotten how to turn back into his animal form or chirp, he sometimes lets his wings unfurl whenever he’s alone with you. he finds comfort in how your gentle hands preen and pet his feathers— so careful and tender, unlike his previous master.

should you stay inside the manor for the rest of your life, DILUC would be more than pleased. he’s ready to let everything go just for the sake of simple domesticity with you and the others. literally no red flags will be popping up because he’s satisfied with sheltering you from the dangers of the outside world. however, such an outcome is unlikely, and you taking up your father’s seat is the more likely scenario here. in that case, DILUC cannot help but swear to be by your side forever, watching over you and making sure that you do not go to the deep end.

danger lurks in every corner and DILUC just might go insane watching you teeter on such a perilous situation. he might consider dragging you away from that life and force you back into the safety of your manor. you don’t need to do all that, right? you don’t actually need to run the company by yourself— that’s what your hybrids are here for! he’s on his knees, begging you to come back to a life of safety. you can dress up fancy once in a while, and enjoy yourself at those galas, but you’ll be less of an owner and more than a face. who cares, really? being a puppet doesn’t sound all that bad, not when you’ll be dolled up and pampered and cared for for the rest of your life.

RELATIONSHIPS: kaeya and venti are always badgering him for another drink, which he icily ignores. he’s a bit of a lone wolf, but with the rest of your security team, their silent camaraderie allows them to carry out missions in the dark and protect you whilst lurking in the shadows.

it was by pure coincidence that you guys found THOMA. the handsome gentleman who’s always been helping out the villagers has always greeted you with a smile and offered to eat chicken skewers whenever you stopped by to visit and hence has been one of the things you looked forward to whenever you visited the village. whilst on a trip to the village with ayato, he took one look at the blonde man and with a coy smile greeted him like they were old friends. which they probably were, because ever since that day THOMA has been a part of your hybrid family as your resident dogboy.

THOMA seems to be able to do it all! the servants love him for his help around the house and his cheerful and easygoing personality. sometimes he’s cooking with the chefs, other times he’s scrubbing the tiles with the maids, or he’s trimming the garden with the gardeners. you often fret that maybe he’s pushing himself too hard, but he always laughs it off and assures you that he loves what he does. you don’t quite get the appeal, but he’ll distract your worries with a dessert that he’s whipped up just for you. 

ayato doesn’t usually command him but whenever he does, THOMA is quick to follow. you don’t quite exactly know their past relationship, other than the fact that ayato was his superior, but THOMA says that ayato isn’t as bossy as he used to be. perhaps it’s because you’re the master of this house already. you don’t have to worry about making conflicting commands with ayato (because ayato would ensure that he’s lovingly brainwashed you enough to always agree with him), but if he ever does prioritize ayato’s commands, it’s only for your own good.

it puzzles you a lot, but THOMA seems to enjoy serving others, most especially you. he is happiest whenever he sees your delighted face at waking up to a platter of your favorite food for breakfast. he finds comfort in brushing your hair and weaving flowers in between the strands. whenever you’re sad, it is his utmost pleasure to poof into his dog form and curl up into your lap, letting you stroke his golden fur as you sob your feelings out. he wants nothing more than to treat you right, to be there by your side as you try to navigate the world and its complex intricacies.

he’s fiercely loyal to you and the hybrids, so much so that he’s blinded by it. he does not care about whether or not you have done something wrong; it will always be the outsiders who need to be eliminated. THOMA is a different person whenever he finds out that a subordinate of yours has betrayed you. he can’t even fathom it. who in their right mind would betray you? what is there about you to drag through the mud? THOMA only views it as a mere clean-up whenever he kills off one of the bastards. were it not for the blood that’s been carelessly splattered on his clothes, no one could even guess that your smiling gentleman had killed someone.

THOMA is a selfless and devout worshipper, and he gives everything that he is to you. should you proceed on inheriting your right, he will do everything in his power to spread your influence and good name. ayato usually calls on him whenever you need something special done, simply because of his vast network of connections. you’re a bit frightened when THOMA casually mentions an assassin he knows. he reassures you though, that this is all for your good! he says it so gently, as if he doesn’t have his fingers in multiple dangerous resources.

on a more domestic issue, THOMA has a guilty pleasure of seeing you sick. he knows it’s bad to wish harm upon someone as sweet and dear as you, but it fills him with such sick pleasure to be the one to look after your vulnerable state. he dotes on you a lot more, and if you weren’t so sick you could see the sweet obsession on his face as he wipes your sweat away. he thinks of asking one of the more science-y hybrids to slip a little something into your food now and then (he knows they’re more than willing to. hell, he knows they’ve already been doing that), but he thinks better of it. he loves you more when you’re smiling, sitting side by side with him without a care in the world.

RELATIONSHIPS: thoma is friends with everyone, even the villagers down below! if he’s not by your side, he’s at ayato’s, indulging him in his eccentric whimsies and often being the victim of his pranks. aether is often pestering him to rest, so when he’s not doing any chores, he’s often found taking a nap in the garden in his fluffy dog form.

you found BENNETT injured and alone outside of your house one day and you, already used to this song and dance, hurriedly ran with the bunny in your arms to the first aid kit. the poor thing had small nicks and scars all over its body, ash-gray fur matted with dried blood and mud. it took a lot of days for the bunny to recover enough to wake up, but when it did, it was already bounding with limitless energy and a sunny disposition. upon seeing you again, it bounded up to you, and with a poof!, BENNETT’s boyish grin greeted you in his hybrid form. “thanks for helping me out! i’m bennett, mind letting me stay here?”

how could you not say no to that charming smile? you found out that BENNETT had been abandoned by his previous owner after the unluckiness he had brought them— termites in their walls, couch eaten by moths, etc.— which seemed like a cruel joke because they had explicitly bought him for luck. you also realize that BENNETT finds some shame in his whole animal form, finding its scarred appearance ugly, and he often flattens his ears against his head to hide the cuts. he wishes that he could take a fully human form but alas, it seems that he’s still not skilled enough to reach that level.

BENNETT really tries his best but whatever he does seems to end up in failure. he doesn’t let this get him down though! he believes that eventually, he’ll run out of his unluck and be able to live a normal life. of course, this still spells trouble for everyone around him, so servants don’t usually ask him to do anything. he’s understanding of it, but it does make him a bit glum. thankfully, you’re here to cheer him up! making him run errands to the village shouldn’t trigger too much of his unluckiness… right?

he’s really touch starved, but he’s afraid to be near you let alone touch you. although he knows it's irrational, he can’t help but be paranoid that maybe just touching you is enough for his bad luck to rub off on you. you’ve already been kind enough to take in a mess like him, so he doesn’t want to make things worse by affecting you of all people. your sincerity and concern are enough to have him falling all over again for you, but when you catch him off guard and scratch his floppy ears, he melts into a contented puddle and into your touch.

BENNETT gets needier the more affection and touch you shower him with, but he tries his best to distance himself (though he fails). your kind eyes have been his only saving grace in a world where he was born to be sold and abandoned and the cycle repeated. you, who are so different from his sneering masters who saw him as nothing more than a pesky hybrid, have given him reason to power through all the pain he’s been feeling. whenever he does something successful, he gets all quiet and squirmy as he awaits your praise. when he doesn’t get it, he’s sent into a spiral of gloom and self-doubt.

should there be a dangerous mission that needs to be executed, the best candidate for the job is BENNETT who will do his utmost to make the job succeed no matter what. it doesn’t matter if his bad luck is getting in his way— he has to finish the job so he can make you happy. even though he’s wrapped up in bandages and suffering near-fatal injuries, he shoots you a thumbs-up and a happy grin as guilt settles in your heart. it’s painful, but what is a little pain compared to helping you succeed and rise to the top?

all of his motivations are spurred by the need to be acknowledged by you and to stay by your side. he’s already used up his luck in finding you, and he doesn’t want that to run out anytime soon. a deep fear encompasses his whole being; a fear that one day you might abandon him like the rest of them. but that won’t happen! because BENNETT sucks up whatever life throws his way, fatal or not, and continues to charge forward. if he makes himself useful, then surely you’ll still allow him to stay by your side, no?

RELATIONSHIPS: a hybrid on the younger side, he’s often playing with razor and the other youngins. since the hybrids all have their own unique dispositions, no one’s quite bothered by the disastrous aftereffects that his unluckiness brings. he’s often sparring with kaeya as he learns how to fight from him.

when GAMING first arrived, he gave everyone quite a fright. it was a peaceful day out, only for it to be ruined by one of the maids screaming. when you rushed out to see what was going on, you were greeted by a lion cub yawning on a big warm rock, unbothered by the stares directed at it. peeking one eye open, it finally saw the pairs of eyes on him until it met yours and with a grin (the maids shrieked again, mistaking it for bared fangs), he jumps from the rock and poofs into his hybrid form. a cute boy with twitching ears and sparkling eyes gazed up at you with an eager look on his face.

you all warmed up to the lion cub pretty quickly. GAMING was both cheerful and calm, and overall a pleasant boy to hang around with. you heard that he’s made fast friends with the villagers downhill and every time he comes back he always brings treats to share with everyone. to you, he personally sees to it that you eat the little treats he brings home. you think he likes to watch you eat, with how earnestly his eyes follow your hands’ every move and the excited wagging of his tail as he watches your expression. you try to feed him too, but he insists that you eat it because he bought it just for you.

he’s so charismatic and sincere that you find yourself blushing at the simplest of his actions. like when you walked into the hybrids taste testing the head chef’s newest treat, he quickly offered up a spoon for you to eat from. as he eagerly awaits you to eat from the spoon, you start blushing with how close GAMING is to your face and coupled with his earnest expression as well. the other hybrids drill into the back of his head with his deathly stare, so much so that the head chef decides to nope out of the situation and escape into the next room. he’s just a natural gentleman, you suppose, though it does attract some irked glances your way. 

however, he’s not as composed when it’s your turn to shower him with affection. one time, you decided that it was nice enough weather to eat your teacakes outside. not one to pass up on snacks, GAMING quickly took you up on the offer to accompany you and your mind suddenly thought of taking revenge on him by teasing him with a teacake. it took a long time for him to realize, but when he finally processes the slowly closing gap between you and him, he makes a startled yelp and scrambles back. you sit back, amused at his steaming face and panicked eyes, before laughing at his expression and finally handing him the snack. your giggles continued to ring throught the garden as he very adorably pouted and whined you to not surprise him like that.

GAMING is very overprotective of you. understandably so, since you are the naive heir of a multmillionaire company squirreled away in the boonies who’s never experienced the real world. he has no problem killing off outsiders— he’s got no emotional attachment to them, so he slices through them quickly and easy like knife and butter. but he’s at a loss when you hurt yourself. it’s a given that you might get overexcited when you’re let out into the outside world, but sometimes that makes you a little bit reckless. his eyes widen and his breaths go uneven when he spots the bloody scrape on your knee, but he swallows it down and quickly tends to it like a good big brother. he scolds you lightly, but there is something… unsteady… underneath that brotherly smile.

the more you move up to the world, the more at odds he is with himself. he realizes more and more that it’s becoming nigh impossible for him to protect you. soon, the world’s eyes will be on you, and there will be no place for an insignificant beast like him to insert himself in. he argues with the other hybrids to stop this, to stop you, because sooner or later all this money and fame will kill you. others empathize with him, then others support your rise. GAMING grows more unstable as he watches you put yourself in more and more dangerous situations all for the sake of duty.

there are more powerful hybrids in this house, so GAMING can’t possibly act on his wishes, but he prays that he can just break that leg of yours or leave you incapacitated enough that you are unable to inherit your rights. it’s your father, isn’t it? shackling you down with a life you never asked for. he wishes that you’d never have to live a life so burdened by the decisions of your father, that you’d continue eating dimsum and cakes with him and the others like before. but all he can do is join the fight to protect you, the only thing he can do as a humble beast.

RELATIONSHIPS: gaming is often spotted enjoying snacks with chongyun and xingqiu or taking out the other security team members to a nice food stall in the village. because aether is a cat, he often asks him for tips on how to fight, believing that he could learn from a stronger feline. he is also often seen staring wide-eyed at zhongli and getting shy when the mythical dragon greets him.

LYNEY approaches you on one of your visits to your father’s building, with a charming smile on his face and endless magic tricks to entertain you with. you are quickly drawn in by his charisma, but when you’re held back by a frowning and apprehensive aether, you decide to behave yourself. aether is often never wrong in his assumptions about people, and perhaps there is more to the friendly boy than meets the eye. LYNEY, however, plays the pity card, slightly raising his hat and showing off the pair of twitching cat ears on his head. he puts it down and pleads his case— a hybrid on the runaway from his abusive owner. you gasp and aether falters, and after enough pleading with him, you’ve added another catboy to your collection of hybrids.

half of the house is torn about LYNEY. the more naive ones welcome him into the fray, eager to have another hybrid and harem member to play with. meanwhile, the wiser ones can sense that something is… off about him. none of them have definite proof to back up their suspicions, so none of them bother to tell you. if you’re perceptive, you can sense how on edge they are, but if you’re not then you’re also easily taken in by him as well. no one can deny that LYNEY treats you like you ought to be treated— delicate yet playful, serving you like you’re royalty and him the servant.

although LYNEY treats you like a friend, there are times when he feels immeasurably distant from you. you often catch sight of his darkened gaze directed at you, but when you ask him what’s wrong, he just shakes his head and forces a smile. you think that his eyes look at you with some sort of sadness, but you never push it. you ask the other hybrids if they know LYNEY well, and though they regale you with tales of his magic and friendliness, they never say anything more than that. you wish that he’d come to find his manor as his home… though when you bring this up to neuvillette, he just shakes his head and pats you. “some things just cannot be replaced,” he says, and you wonder if the magician had left something behind at his old place.

when he got this job, LYNEY thought that it would be an easy one. a spoiled rich kid with numerous hybrids at their every call… it sounded just like the slavers he abhorred so much. his apprehension was shattered when he met you in the building lobby, fiercely protected by aether like you were some sort of precious treasure. he recalled the way your eyes widened in compassion upon hearing his story and his conflicted feelings only grew stronger when he entered your home and was surprised at how… happy everyone was. all the hybrids he’d seen, including himself, were miserable. they could be lucky enough to not get an abusive owner, but that didn’t change that they were essentially slaves. here, however, everyone was free. the only thing that tethered them to this place is because they wanted to be with you.

ever since he’s stepped into this manor, it’s been lies upon lies upon lies. LYNEY never really lets himself get too close to the others, and he’s also well aware of the way the more guarded ones look at him. when it comes to you, however, he wishes that he didn’t have to wear such a facade. if it’s you… then maybe you’d accept him, madness and all. instead, he continues to feed you half-truths— his past abuse, his loneliness, the loss of his siblings— and delights in the affection he receives. he can’t get enough of your attention, even if it is directed towards a half-fiction version of him. but he curls up in your lap nevertheless, purring contentedly as you pet him and ease wallow in the bitterness of his life.

… he thought it’d be easy, but LYNEY thinks this is the hardest mission he’s been ever given. the knife is already pressed to your throat, so what’s stopping him from slitting it? his hands can’t budge, and guilt and desire only overwhelm him as he watches your sleeping face. you’ve given him more love than he deserves, and he can’t seem to get enough of it. you’re so gullible and naive, falling for his tricks and lies, feeding him information that could lead to your downfall… what could you possibly do when he leaks everything? right… that’s right… your entire life depends on him. that night, he curls up to your bed, pressing kisses to your cheek and whispering all the betrayals he’s done to you. he’s still torn about whether to continue lying or to bare his entire soul to you, but either way, you’ll still be the captivating thing he’s laid his eyes on.

RELATIONSHIPS: the moment freminet arrives, he’s ecstatic. aside from his usual magic shows and entertainment, he never sticks around the others for far too long. he’s only spending time with freminet and you, though he and aether have a quiet solidarity as cat hybrids.

[wonderjanga]

Custody Battle

You know those AUs when Black Adam finds out about Billy being a kid, so he wants to adopt him? Let’s explore a different aspect of that. People think Marvel and Adam are the dads of Mary Marvel, and a kid named Billy, who might potentially be Junior. People also think they’ve been going through a messy divorce.

Marvel: “How many times do I have to tell you? I- Uh Billy, won’t be going to Kahndaq with you!”

Black Adam: “If I throw in the girl, will you let me then?”

Marvel: “Who? Mary?”

Black Adam: “Yes, her. If I’m correct, she’s also a child.”

Marvel: “Wha? Still no! Throwing her in made the deal worse!”

People are thinking Marvel isn’t letting Adam see their kids. People are also wondering how the two had kids, how long they’ve been married, and why it took them so long to divorce. I mean, the two had been throwing each other into buildings long before Adam wanted custody of the kids.

Black Adam: “Being the Wizard’s Champion is too much for you, Batson.”

Marvel: “It is not.” *sassy man eye roll*

As a result of this conversation, the public now thinks two things, one, that Marvel is neglecting his kids due to his work as a hero, or as the Wizard’s Champion. Whatever that means. The thing is though, it isn’t completely surprising because this is gonna be connected this to the “Cap not Caring” post. (In that post, Mary and Billy threaten to kill each other, while Billy fights Freddy)

Marvel: “I don’t want that man around Mary.”

Reporter: “And Billy.”

Marvel: *confused* “What?”

Reporter: “And Billy. Mary and Billy.”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah, and Billy.”

Yeah, people did not like that, because how do you just forget your son exists? To be fair though, Billy’s son is himself. Can you blame him? Too bad that isn’t common knowledge. They’re also flaming him for his “preference” for Mary.

The second thing people think is that Marvel’s name is Batson? People do some digging and find out about C.C.. Billy is now officially his own dad. Now, at the prospect of a child getting potentially kidnapped, or at least having to undergo forced family bonding, some other heroes grew a little concerned.

Marvel: “Guys he’s not getting Billy. I don’t know why he thinks he’s getting Billy. He’s not. I don’t know why he would think he has a choice when the only times he’s been in Billy’s life were to literally ruin it.”

Superman: *extremely concerned* “What..?”

Marvel: “I know right?”

Batman: “Why does Adam now suddenly want Billy?”

Marvel: “Cause he found something out he shouldn’t have.”

Batman: “What did he find out?”

Superman: “Why was a grown man beefing with a child in the first place?!”

Marvel swiftly dodged all the questions by walking away as Clark called after him.

Bonus:

The two get taken to reality court tv.

Marvel: *when it’s his turn to speak* “Jury and judge, he killed his nephew.” *points to Adam*

Jury and Audience: *gasps*

Marvel: “Who’s to say he wouldn’t kill Billy?”

Black Adam: “I’m a changed man now.”

Judge: *glares at Adam for interrupting*

Marvel: “Last week, you slammed me so hard into the ground I ended up in the sewers.”

Black Adam: “That was before, this is now.”

Judge: *bangs gavel* “Mr. Adam! Mr. Marvel is speaking. Refrain from interrupting.”

Black Adam: “Who’re you to tell me that?”

Judge: “The damn judge.”

Audience and Jury: *collective oohs and aahs*