#that part seems to have stood up to him the most

[fastandcarlos]

Forgotten Thing : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you know just how busy max is, and you understood too, only now you're starting to feel like the forgotten thing in his life

The sound of light snores greeted you as you walked into the apartment, unable to stop your eyes from rolling. Your heart raced as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the ground with a loud thud, not caring about the figure asleep in your living room.  

“Max,” you called out, standing to the side of the sofa with your arms folded across your chest. 

The sound of your voice had him stirring, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A smile was on his face for a moment until Max noticed how nice you looked, eyes going wide in horror when he remembered that he had promised to pick you up from work. 

“That was a lovely walk home,” you sarcastically told him, taking a seat on the end of the sofa, “at least you got some rest though, that’s what matters, right?” 

The frustration was clear in your voice as you found yourself let down by Max again. It was becoming a pretty normal feeling for you, to be given empty promises and assured of things that you knew that Max wouldn’t be able to follow through. 

“Don’t be mad, please,” Max asked of you, sitting himself up. “I only planned on closing my eyes for a few minutes, and then I just lost track of time. I mean, all you had to do was walk home from work, it’s hardly the most difficult job in the world. 

Your head shook at how dismissive Max was. “The walk home didn’t bother me Max, it’s the fact that you promised you’d be there. You keep promising and not delivering, it’s like I’m some forgotten, unimportant part of your life.” 

Max brushed his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up, not quite understanding what you were so fed up about. “I’ve been so busy at work recently I obviously just needed the sleep. We can’t all have a job like yours, some of us are working nonstop.” 

“I see, because my job is a walk in the park, isn’t it?” You scoffed. 

You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Max, he’d always seemed to be supportive, but now you weren’t so sure. It was like the two of you were in competition, with Max clearly feeling like he was winning. 

“It’s not the same, how hard I work and how hard you work is very different. I’ve got a flight to catch early tomorrow morning and you’ve got the next two days off, so I’d say I’m slightly more important,” Max argued. 

Your mouth went wide in shock, letting go of a gasp. You didn’t recognise the man in front of you, the man who usually was so caring and sympathetic had turned into someone who couldn’t care less about you. 

“I’ve always looked after you Max, done absolutely anything for you. It’s a shame you can’t do the same for me. I might as well just leave, that’s how you make me feel,” you spoke. 

Max’s eyes widened once again, his body tensing up. You stood up, feeling Max's eyes watching your every move, slowly backing towards the front door. 

“You wouldn’t actually leave,” Max sniggered. 

“Why not? What is there to make me stay anymore?” You challenged, your voice getting louder. “Why shouldn’t I go somewhere where I actually feel valued and appreciated rather as if I’m nothing.” 

“Love,” Max whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel that way, it’s just been so hard for the past couple of weeks. I really did intend on picking you up, I set an alarm and everything, but I must’ve just slept right through it.” 

“If you were tired or stressed Max, you should’ve told me, I’d never have expected you to pick me up if I knew,” you sighed, walking back into the room again. 

“But you’re right, I do keep making promises that I can’t keep, so I wanted to pick you up to prove to you that I care.” Max tapped the space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to sit beside him as his hand rested against your leg. 

“I know that you care about me,” you assured him. 

Max’s head shook, “but I’ve not shown you that, when you’re constantly here caring for me, I just take it for granted, we’re supposed to care for each other.” 

You smiled weakly across at Max, knowing better than anyone just how hard he worked. For all his faults, you could never fault how loved he made you feel, even if his mind was elsewhere sometimes. Your hand reached out and pressed against the side of his face, lips pressing against his cheek, unaware of the way Max’s heart raced with relief at the feeling of your lips on him.  

“If you’re free this weekend, do you fancy coming to the race?” Max asked you, “I’ll make sure that we can spend some time together when I’m not needed at the garage. We can explore, have a proper look around.” 

Your head nodded at his suggestion, excited by the thought of being at a race again. It had been a while, you were never quite sure if Max wanted you there or not, but now he couldn’t imagine himself going to the race without you. 

“You don’t need to do this, I know how hard race weekends are,” you assured him, squeezing against his hand, “I don’t need anything to be made up to me.” 

“But you do,” Max defended, knowing just how badly he’d treated you. “I want to make sure you know that I care, I’m going to make sure that we have the best weekend together too.” 

Max moved his free arm around your frame as he pulled you into his side, pressing several gentle kisses against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was more loving than anything you’d felt from him in a while, letting you know just how sorry he was. 

Once he was done, Max kept his head resting on top of yours. “Whatever you want to do whilst we’re there this weekend, we’ll do. I’ll even drive you around and pick you up from the paddock.” 

“Max,” you whispered, but he quickly shushed you, knowing what you were about to say. 

“Don’t tell me that you understand that it’s alright, because it’s not,” he laughed, reading your mind perfectly. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and that needs to be put right.” 

“I do understand, you work so hard.” 

“And so do you,” Max responded, “I never should’ve made it sound like your job doesn’t matter, because it does, you’re the hardest working person I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologising,” you grinned, pressing your head further into Max’s side, “I know how sorry you are Max.” 

A hum came from him as he leant back on the sofa, cuddling you into his side as he draped his legs over the top of yours. 

“Let’s sleep for a bit,” you suggested, placing your hand on his chest, “I know how much better you sleep when you’ve got someone to cuddle.” 

Max nodded in agreement with you, “you can’t be telling anyone how much I love being cuddled to sleep, people won’t think I’m cool anymore.” 

“Leave me stranded at work again and I might just reveal all your secrets,” you teased. 

“You wouldn’t,” Max challenged, watching your head nod out of the corner of his eye. 

“You wouldn’t want to find out.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ckret2]

Above: Bill showing off the messed up things he can make the Nightmare Realm do.

Below: Bill literally an hour later.

Here, have a fic. In which the gods try to figure out what to do about the new omnicidal chaos god who would rather destroy reality than politely exit Dimension Zero so they can arrest him for burning down multiple dimensions.

This is part 7 of a ???9-ish??? part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and then getting repeatedly slapped in the face with all the atrocities Bill's committed. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, and six.

####

There was fresh fear amongst the many gods crowded around the site where Dimension 2 Delta had once stood.

The perimeter around Dimension Zero's turbulent border had pulled back dramatically, leaving a barren no man's land between the police cordon and the triangle's territory.

The fires in the 1D and 2D universes, for a moment so close to doused, had returned with a vengeance—and by the sound of some chatter amongst the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force agents, they suspected it was a literal vengeance. The storm cloud heading the ATTF operations had needed to personally visit the burning dimensions again—see which previously contained fires had reignited or jumped their firelines, and see which new fires had broken out so that it could redistribute the available firefighting forces appropriately.

The Time Giant had gone along to inspect the damage and figure out which dimensions could be repaired—provided they ever stopped the fires—and which would ultimately needed to be rebuilt.

And anyone who wasn't actively engaged in trying to control the fires was still trying to process the newest crisis: the leader of the mortals who'd fallen into Dimension Zero wasn't a fellow mortal victim, but an out-of-control new god with the power to move and burn entire universes who didn't seem to understand that he was about to destroy all of reality, himself included.

VENDOR had finally run out of excuses to avoid the media, and was now reluctantly holding an impromptu press conference with the reporters on the scene—and THEY looked so miserable the Axolotl nearly felt bad for THEM. He overheard THEM blurt out, probably far louder than intended, "I will not be remembered as the god who was in charge of the emergency response efforts that got the entire multiverse destroyed!" and he wondered whether VENDOR remembered either that THEY weren't in charge or that, if the multiverse were destroyed, THEY wouldn't be remembered at all. No one would be.

From the conversations he overheard, the Axolotl got the impression that no one, even the most senior ATTF agents on the scene, had ever dealt with a threat to the multiverse this dire. No one knew what to do about the triangle—least of all the Axolotl, who was only here because everybody still hadn't realized that he wasn't supposed to be.

So while everyone else was arguing, privately panicking, or actually doing something useful, he was floating at the cordon holding people away from Dimension Zero.

####

There were a few stars and rocky bodies on the wrong side of the cordon. The triangle's sun—the star that had once shone down on his 2D world before it burned down (before he burned it down)—was still out there. Once again, it was falling toward Dimension Zero.

He glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then swooped under the cordon, scooped up the sun, and carried it back to the safe zone. He opened a portal to his tank, slid the star inside, then shook out his forefeet and inspected the burns on the soft skin. He'd been playing with a lot of fire today.

"Axolotl!"

The Axolotl looked up. He wasn't surprised by the familiar sight of his Oracle's soul emerging from the aether—she'd already come by once to but he was frustrated by it. One more person he had to protect in this mess.

"Something happened—"

"I know." He quickly curled around her, doing his best to shield her from the other gods in case any of the nearby arguments escalated—or the triangle decided to lash out at the third dimension again. "You shouldn't be here now. It isn't safe."

Of course, she ignored him. She wouldn't be the kind of person he picked as one of his Oracles if she weren't the kind of person who ignored gods' warnings. "Our seers heard the whole sky scream in pain, and then saw a vast eye—"

"Over there." He lifted his tail out of the way just enough to let her see the border of Dimension Zero.

No matter where you looked at Dimension Zero, that golden fleck of light seemed to twinkle in the center of your field of vision. The Oracle squinted. "The little flat yellow creature?"

"He was bigger earlier."

"What happened?"

"A showdown with the cops."

The Oracle paused as she tried to reconcile that with the seers' apocalyptic vision. "Who won?"

"He did."

"Good." And she wouldn't have been the kind of person the Axolotl picked for his Oracles if she didn't say that, either.

On most days, he'd agree with her. But after seeing what the triangle could do—knowing what he would do... The cops weren't the answer, but he had to be stopped somehow.

(He could feel the triangle's eye on them. Was he listening to them now?)

"He's shaped like a triangle. Is he connected to the blind seer's final vision?"

The seer who'd seen the sky burn and collapse into a blinding triangular light. "He is. He's the last survivor of the first dimension to burn. His people called him the Magister Mentium; he was a seer to his people, too."It tore the Axolotl's heart to say more than that—but he wouldn't mislead his Oracle. "Somehow, he started the fire."

Before the Oracle could ask him how, a faint voice yelled, "Hey!"

They turned toward Dimension Zero. The triangle was on the border, looking straight at them. He shouted again, "Hey! You with the pink freak!"

"What?"

"How many fingers do you have!"

She gave her four arms a puzzled look. "Twenty!"

"Wow!" The triangle sounded genuinely impressed. "What do you use 'em all for?!"

"Normal finger things?" She asked, "Why's your hat so skinny?"

"What hat?"

She paused. "Never mind!" She turned back to the Axolotl and whispered, "Is the hat part of his body?"

"I don't think so. He didn't have it the last time I saw him."

She kept trying to look at the triangle until the Axolotl curled around her to stop her staring. "That's the seer who's destroying universes?"

He wanted to make excuses for the triangle. He wanted to defend him. "Yes."

She was silent a moment before asking the question she'd really come for: "Is my world in danger?"

"Not yet. Not directly. But... if he isn't stopped, it eventually will be," the Axolotl said. "He's fallen into the center of the multiverse and is trying to build a kingdom there. If he fails, it will collapse and kill him; but if he succeeds, it will destabilize and kill all of reality."

"Wh—?!" She gave him a look of disbelief. "But—that doesn't make any sense! He loses either way!"

"I know."

"So why is he endangering everyone for nothing?!"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to find out."

"Wait—!"

The Oracle's astral projection could be very slippery when she wanted; she was already past the Axolotl and flying toward Dimension Zero. "Hey! Magister Mentium! I want a word with you!"

"Don't cross the border between dimensions!" The Axolotl clutched the police tape in both forefeet as he watched.

After five minutes of shouting and death threats, the Oracle flew back to the Axolotl.

"I think he's stupid," she said.

He smiled sadly. "I fear it's something much worse than that."

He had the skin-crawling feeling that the triangle was staring at him. He forced himself not to turn and find out for sure.

####

The Time Giant was the first to return from the frontlines of the fire. She joined the Axolotl next to the police tape, muttered something about needing to pick up some "stuff" from "a couple centuries ago," snapped out a length of time tape, and returned three seconds later in a different shirt with sleeves rolled up and carrying a folding table, a bundle of blueprints, and an energy drink. She unfolded the table in the void, spread out her blueprints on it, chugged her drink, hunched over the table, and ignored the rest of the universe.

The Oracle gazed up at the Time Giant and instantly fell in love. The Axolotl politely pretended he didn't notice.

VENDOR was the second to float over—slumped forward, lights dim, looking like THEY were returning from a war zone rather than a press conference. Heaving a weary sigh, THEY positioned THEMSELF next to the cordon with the Axolotl and Time Giant; which was the point at which the Axolotl realized he'd accidentally formed a club of people who didn't want to be in charge of this mess but were. "Any change?" 

The Time Giant grunted distractedly. The Axolotl said, "No." The Oracle said, "I accidentally taught the triangle an obscene gesture." 

VENDOR turned toward Dimension Zero.

The triangle sprouted two extra arms and gleefully pantomimed something filthy.

VENDOR turned away from Dimension Zero and sighed even more heavily.

When the storm cloud drifted over, VENDOR said, "Go away unless you have good news." The arrogance had drained out of THEIR voice; what little pomposity THEY had left was a thin mask over exhausted fear. (The Axolotl could sympathize; he felt the same dread weighing low in the pit of his stomach.)

Before the storm cloud had left to check on the other dimensions, it had still been hailing in fear; by now, it had whipped itself up into a furious blizzard. It had to stay back from the group to keep from freezing them too, and even at that frost still crept across VENDOR's glass and the Axolotl had to shield the Oracle from the cold. "Well," it said stiffly, trying to rein in its rage and sounding even colder as a consequence.. "Almost all the new fires have already been contained. I'll say one thing for that—" It paused as it mentally glided over what was no doubt a long and creative list of insults, "—guy; at least he's making an effort to be more careful of where he kicks the neighboring dimensions so the damage doesn't spread as fast." It sighed a chilly, angry gust of wind. "Unfortunately, he's gotten more aggressive about kidnapping mortals from other dimensions. He's narrowed his focus, but he's kicking ten times harder."

"That wasn't very good good news," VENDOR whined.

"Sorry. Fresh out," the cloud said. "Fact is, if we don't stop him, we're toast."

Nobody was surprised by that. VENDOR asked, "How much time do we have?" THEY turned to the Time Giant.

While VENDOR had gotten pathetic and the cloud was seething with barely-restrained rage, the Time Giant had only grown more stoic. Her face was set in a stony mask; her jaw was tight enough that she could bite an airplane clean in half. Since she'd come back, she hadn't glanced up from the stack of blueprints she'd retrieved.

It took her a moment to realize the question was directed toward her. She jerked her head up as if ready to snap at whoever had interrupted her; but caught herself as she processed the question. "Uhh, pffff..." She squinted toward the horizon of time, face scrunched up to expose her teeth. "If we get the fires put out? Few years. Couple decades at the outside. Reckon it's more than enough time to jury rig something that'll keep reality propped up while we get in a construction crew to set up a new Big Bang, no problem."

The Axolotl whispered reassuringly to the Oracle, "A couple of decades to us is over a thousand of your people's generations."

"A couple of decades," VENDOR muttered, voice rough, a few stray moons rattling around behind THEIR product dispenser door. "This multiverse was built to last an eternity. To think it could be destabilized enough to collapse within a couple of decades, all because of one..." THEY fell silent. They could all feel the steady staring eye watching them from deep within Dimension Zero.

The cloud said, "And if he doesn't let us stop all the fires?"

She pursed her lips, brows knit tightly. "If the fires keep spreading and that triangle keeps destabilizing things, the whole thing could collapse in a week tops."

"That's still a few years for your people," the Axolotl told the Oracle optimistically.

She swatted his paw. "Aren't you powerful enough to, just—stop him? You're gods." They must have seemed undefeatable to her—living beings the size of mountains and vast world-moving machines and forces of nature. That was how the gods always looked to mortals.

But unfortunately, when you got right down to it, they weren't much more than weirdly big people.

VENDOR muttered, "Well, I don't have the authority to call in the kind of reinforcements that can take that thing down." (More cautious now that THEY realized this wasn't a threat THEY could effortlessly crush in THEIR gears, weren't THEY.)

The cloud said, "The Apocalyptic Threat Task Force can make that a call that in any situation that poses a credible threat to multiversal safety and security, but..." It asked the Axolotl and Time Giant, "Just how strong do you think he is?"

"Could be omnipotent," the Time Giant said. "Wouldn't be surprised."

The Axolotl reluctantly nodded in agreement. "He doesn't understand what he's doing yet, but he's already manipulating the fabric of reality with his bare hands."

VENDOR made a tiny noise like a malfunctioning motor at that.

Grimly, the cloud said, "I could put in a call to HQ. We have a few higher dimensional types on call. Creator gods and the like. They're probably the only ones who'd stand a chance against an omnipotent god that can make a whole universe do a barrel roll. But if we aren't sure we could win the fight, and fast..."

The assembled group of gods cast a nervous look at the gaping hole into Dimension Zero.

The triangle, smaller than one of the Axolotl's fingertips, stared back from the border. He solemnly spread his arms wide. "You wanna go? Come at me."

They did not want to go. They turned away.

"Bad idea," the Time Giant said. "If the laws of physics are unstable, even the strongest god wouldn't have an advantage. It'd be like putting the fastest sprinter in the multiverse on a racetrack without gravity. And since he's the one running the physics, he could practically hand himself a win."

"And on top of that, any fight down there risks knocking the multiverse down," the cloud said. "It's too dangerous. We can't risk attacking him."

"We'll just have to hope he doesn't attack us first," VENDOR muttered.

The Axolotl's stomach flipped. He knew something they didn't. "Actually, I... don't think he can."

All attention was on him. VENDOR said, "Please tell me you have some actual good news."

"I don't know." He wasn't sure whether it would make any difference. All he knew was that he felt like he was betraying the triangle. He lowered his voice to what for him passed as a whisper. "But, I think... I think his power is limited to the borders of his realm." As he said it, he knew he was telling the truth. Some beings got like that when they were old enough; they could just feel when something was right. "He can't impact anything that isn't touching his dimension. He's essentially harmless to the rest of the multiverse. The only real threat is... well." He gestured helplessly at the frothing chaos. "The fact that the dimension is like that."

Voice hushed, the cloud said slowly, "Hold on. So... he's trapped in the crawlspace beneath reality."

"No—he's trapped in the 'dream realm' he's built inside the crawlspace. He can drag the realm out with him, but... we saw what happens when he does that." They'd all heard how existence had howled in pain. They'd seen how even the triangle had been scared enough to stop.

"So we have no hope of fighting him in his bunker—but if we drag him across the threshold... the fight's over." THEY turned to the two cops THEY'd been leading around all day.

The crab and burning wheels tried very had to look like they hadn't noticed the conversation at all. 

VENDOR and the cloud exchanged a frustrated glance. Sarcastically, the cloud muttered, "Yeah. Easy."

The Axolotl said, "I'm not even sure we can drag him out of his bunker. I don't know if he won't leave, or physically can't leave—just that his power stops at his borders."

VENDOR sighed, "So we're back where we started."

The Time Giant smacked her mess of blueprints, making the other gods start. "No we aren't! If his influence can't spread outside his dimension, then I've got a fix." She held up a thick binder. "It's a fiddly chrono-construction technique to shore up brittle dimensions. It can work as a stopgap measure to stop him from destabilizing any more dimensions." She looked at VENDOR. "It'll make a lot of extra work for the urban planning committee."

VENDOR's lights flickered off. The Axolotl could see the numbers on THEIR digital display as THEY slowly counted to ten. Then THEY turned their lights back on and said, with an air of forced calm, "All right. I don't think there is any getting out of this without extra work. Tell me the idea."

"Right now, all our dimensions are connected adjacent to each other—corner to corner and edge to edge. It's simple that way. But, if we restructure the dimensions parallel to each other, we can use the pressure of the outside dimensions to press in on the crawlspace and keep its contents in place. It's gonna be a mess. Forget about the Dimension 1, Dimension 2, Dimension 3 system we have right now; by the end of this we're gonna have Dimension 143 and Dimension M and Dimension 6.5 and Dimension -17 and imaginary number dimensions and quadratic dimensions..." She shrugged helplessly. "But if we can't get this bozo out, it might be our only option."

"Parallel universes? It sounds ridiculous." VENDOR let out a low moan of pain, "We'll have to restructure the whole multiverse."

"Yup. Probably."

"Everything's so nice and tidy now. A perfectly arranged planned community. Nice, straight, gridlike dimensions..."

"Parallel dimensions do have some potential benefits over adjacent dimensions," the Time Giant offered comfortingly. "Easier interdimensional travel—"

VENDOR grumbled, "Oh, I know, I know, Municipalitron's been pushing to experiment with parallel dimensions for the past two hundred billion years. He won't shut up about how it would benefit mass transit."

The cloud said, "All I care about is the multiverse surviving long enough to worry about mass transit."

The time giant said, "The biggest downside is that once we've completely closed up the crawlspace, when that dimension he's set up inevitably collapses, there's no easy way to get back all that energy and dark matter. If we ever decide to rip open a rift big enough to drain it out, it could take trillions of years if we don't want the flood to destroy the receiving universe. We might never clear out the rubble. But on the other hand, if it's sealed up well enough, it won't matter if the ruins are left to rot."

"What about the hostages?" the Axolotl asked. "Won't that trap everyone inside?"

"We'll have to leave manhole covers and maintenance shafts, obviously. Until the fabric of reality's finished unraveling, we'll have a chance to get them out," the Time Giant said. "Even that 'Magister' can leave if he decides to surrender himself. Assuming he's willing to leave his construction project behind."

If he could leave it.

VENDOR let a heavy whoosh out THEIR vents. "Balls. Very well, submit your proposal to the committee. I'll vouch for it. But I won't like it." THEY muttered, "Municipalitron's never going to let me live this down."

The storm aimed its sunbeam at the Time Giant. "Can't start construction as long as he's still starting fires and picking fights, though—can we? Unless you can build new dimensions on top of an active inferno?"

"N—Hold on." She squinted toward the future to check. "Nope. Though once I get down a fireproof foundation, we won't need to worry about it anymore. Got a trick called timeline splitting: you reformat a dimension so that the timelines fork infinitely, any time a choice is made. If he tries to burn 'em, they split: one timeline he burned and one he didn't. He'll just add more timelines and thicken the foundation every time he tries to attack the neighbors."

Horrified, VENDOR said, "I've been trying to pass an ordinance to ban timeline splitting for an eon."

"Has it passed yet?" the storm asked.

"No!"

"Great. Then that's our plan," the storm said. "We just need somebody to talk him down long enough to put out the fires and get the fireproof foundation in place." Its sunbeam turned toward the Time Giant. "Maybe if someone explains the stakes to him—?"

She shook her head, expression flat. "I'm a civil engineer, not a hostage negotiator. If he didn't get it the first time I laid it out to him, he ain't gonna get it the second time."

VENDOR asked the cloud, "Isn't the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force trained in talking down apocalyptic threats?"

"Yes, but no," the storm cloud said.

"What does that mean! Just... go up to that thing"—THEY tilted toward Dimension Zero—"and keep him calm."

"Are you kidding? I'm not suicidal!"

"This is your job, you're an apoc cop!"

"Apoc agent!" It raised its voice, "And talking down threats is not my speciality! I was sent because we thought this was a structural issue, not an actively malevolent entity!"

"Hey!" the triangle shouted. "Who are you calling malevolent?! Hey! Hey! Look me in the eye and say that again, I'll kick your base! I'm the most benevolent entity you've ever met!"

They wordlessly avoided eye contact with the triangle, scooted another solar system farther away from Dimension Zero, and lowered their voices again. 

The storm cloud asked VENDOR, "Shouldn't this be your department? We're dealing with the possible genesis of a new god, and his first act was destroying a dimension and destabilizing reality. Sounds like politics to me."

Delicately, the Axolotl said, "I don't think THEY're the best choice."

"I'm certainly not. I handle the urban planning committee's budgeting," VENDOR said. "I deal with accountants, not terrorists! The only reason I'm here is to provide planets for those flat refugees, and I am sick of being at every humanitarian crisis in the multiverse just because I vend planets—"

The Axolotl had taken all of VENDOR that he could. He rounded on THEM, snarling, "Why are you even in politics, if it's not to help mortals? Is that not why you accepted the title of 'god'?" He flared his gills and his eyes glowed in rage. "Because it's why I did! I wish there was more I could do to help! And you, you can do more than anyone, and you're complaining about it?!"

VENDOR jerked back from the Axolotl. For a moment, the whole group was stunned silent. The Axolotl's eyes stopped glowing. He had to fight the urge to shrink back self-consciously from their staring. His Oracle patted his side comfortingly.

And then VENDOR's lights  brightened. "You know how to talk to mortals like that. This triangle is just like the omnicidal monsters you represent every day." THEIR camera whirred as THEY sized him up. "If you want to help more, then why don't you?"

Ah. The Axolotl paused to swallow his anger. 

He glanced down at his Oracle, who had been hiding in his shadow as she took notes and attempted to surreptitiously ogle the Time Giant. He said, "I think..."

She nodded. "I'll wake up." And then she faded out as her spirit sank back down to a lower plane.

The Axolotl tried to avoid looking at VENDOR—how could someone without a face look so smug?—and focused on the Time Giant. "What do you need me to get him to do?"

####

Biologically there was really no such thing as a god, in the same way that botanically there is really no such thing as a vegetable. Tomatoes are fruits; spinach is a leaf; carrots are roots; broccoli is an unfinished flower. The word "vegetable" just indicates the cultural role a plant performs in the kitchen.

The word "god" indicated the cultural role an entity performed in cosmology: a god was anything that people considered powerful enough to be worth worshiping.

A trillion trillion priests and philosophers and theologians and politicians had attempted to pin down a firm definition—but any definition was only ever valid to the worshipers who agreed it was right. The simple truth was that a being who had created a universe could be called a god, and a particularly impressive tree could be called a god, and a con artist who used clever stage magic to convince people he could teleport and raise the dead could be called a god, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to prove than any one of them "really" was or wasn't a god, no trait that universally separated the false gods from the true. If other gods thought you were a god, or if enough mortals worshiped you that the other gods had to bow to public pressure, that meant you were a god. 

Different beings honored with the title "god" handled it in different ways. Some, unsurprisingly, developed a god complex. Some picked up debilitating scrupulosity in an effort to be perfect enough to be worthy of their people's worship, and their people developed scrupulosity in an effort to live up to their god's perfect example, and so it went in a vicious cycle until somebody finally got therapy. Some printed their titles on the party invitation flyers they tossed out on busy streets. For the Axolotl's part, he thought it was a useful designation to help with networking, but mostly it was a pain that meant he was put up on a pedestal for doing his job.

The Axolotl was a god of justice. Not the god of justice, but one. He held dominion over an abstract concept; over millions and billions of years, his words and decisions slowly, inexorably altered the idea of "justice" on a multiversal scale. Mercy, retribution, punishment, rehabilitation, equity, equality, fairness, and righteousness were like multicolored clays he could twist, squish, sculpt, and blend in his wet little salamandrine grip, permanently altering what those ideas meant to the mortals they affected.

Which was to say: he was a lawyer.

He was also known as a god of rebirth. Which was to say: he specialized in afterlife law. Before going into law he'd only been a psychopomp, but after having to escort too many despairing souls to afterlives he felt were too severe for their sins, he'd decided he wanted a say in where he took his souls. For a while, he helped clients get their charges reduced so they were eligible for a higher-tier reincarnation, or got their purgatorial sentences reduced. Though for a long time he'd steered away from damnation cases. He didn't always win—and those ones were too depressing to lose.

And then he'd thought he should be doing more. It wasn't enough for him to help his clients get the best option available under the system to which they were subjected; he wanted to change the system. He'd started pursuing bigger cases.

Now, he had a reputation.

For the past few centuries, he'd been working on a damnation case. He was defending a supervillain who'd developed a weapon that could slice open the fabric of spacetime so severely it could rip clean into another dimension—a mortal who'd committed an interdimensional crime against reality. The villain had died in the jurisdiction of an afterlife that had legalized eternal damnation.

Case law had long established that, unless other arrangements had been made premortem, the dead were to be sent to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice, provided that the afterlife in question accepted them; and that they would be judged and sentenced by that afterlife's laws.

But if this villain had been extradited to his home world, the heaviest sentence he could have faced was a thousand years purgatory with an option for early reincarnation for good behavior after a hundred years.

So the jurisdiction he'd died in had summoned up some bureaucratic red tape to dismiss his native afterlife's extradition request, and he'd been sentenced where he'd died. Crimes against reality were often handled differently from regular sins; and the gods of vengeance in the domain where he'd died would love to see the courts declare that the gods who'd brought down a criminal against reality could call dibs on punishing him, rather than hand him back to his motherland. They hoped they would get away with it just for lack of anyone protesting the move. After all, everyone involved would much prefer that a mortal wicked enough to damage spacetime and obliterate multiple populated planets receive eternal punishment.

Everyone involved except the Axolotl. 

Taking this case hadn't made him many friends. He didn't care; he had his principles. Let an interplanetary supervillain be dragged away to a foreign afterlife just so that he can be forced into damnation, and next it'll be a planetary dictator; let a dictator be dragged away, and next it'll be a murderer; and next it'll be a burglar; and next it'll be a jaywalker that a psychopomp has a personal grudge against. If the Axolotl could establish that even the most undeserving mortal imaginable still deserved the right to be sentenced in his home afterlife, then he could ensure that everyone less evil received the same right.

If he had anything to say about it, in two or three trillion years he'd see eternal punishment outlawed completely; but untilthen, he was not going to sit idly by and let this flagrant abuse of interdimensional law become the new meaning of justice! He would get that supervillain out of eternal damnation, personally escort him to his native afterlife, and see him reincarnated on his own home world; and mark his words, he would rain so much bureaucratic hell on the judges and psychopomps that had let this abuse of justice take place—he would wreak such vengeance upon the vengeance gods who had tried to claim his client—that no god would dare keep a soul from its rightful afterlife ever again, or he wasn't the Axolotl!

All of which was to say:

Yes, unfortunately. This triangle was like the omnicidal monsters he represented every day.

And so he was appointed hostage negotiator.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 7 of a probably-9-part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl almost fucking die.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Seven of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: okay THIS is now probably the least cosmic-horrifying chapter of this arc. Which is a necessary interlude, because NEXT CHAPTER is the big climax woohoo!

Even if not much horrifying happens this chapter, I like the worldbuilding in it. The section on what being a god of justice means to the Axolotl was one of the first things I wrote for this arc.)

[writingmeraki]

patch you right up — a r.c drabble.

★ pairing: rafe cameron x frenemy!reader, enemies to ?? ★ genre: hurt/comfort, unresolved feelings. ★ warnings: cussing, mentions of being drunk, violence, mentions of wounds and treating them. ★ a/n : urm very...random, silly, might not make sense but it was rotting in my mind, lmk what you think <3 ★ w.c : 1.1k

“This was very fucking stupid of me.”

Hissing in pain as the hydrogen peroxide made contact with your torn knuckles on your hand, you held your bruised jaw with the free hand and looked away from the blood glistening because of the light above.

“Oh you don’t say?” His voice was mocking, nothing new but it held an underlying annoyance you could somehow detect. 

Sighing, you pulled your hand abruptly, which earned you a sharp turn of his head in your direction and his dark blue eyes glaring at you, “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to do this-”

“Shut up.”

“No I mean it, Rafe. It’s my fault, ‘ll patch it up myself.”

It did not help how horrible your head seemed to ache as you shut your eyes briefly, everything felt overwhelming, especially with him being this close to you. Him just anywhere near you was enough to drive you a little over the edge and it seemed to get worse when you had a bit too much liquid courage in your system. 

“Look at me.” You hated how easily you complied as you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, only this time, they were much softer.

That wasn’t hard to do, considering the position you were in. On his impossibly large bathroom counter as he stood between your legs, really you didn’t have much to look at. 

“It’s not your fault, alright?” You spited it when people would always give you fake sentences for the sake of being ‘kind’, it was all sugar coated shit to you. But somehow when Rafe Cameron said that to you, your heart felt like it would combust then and there.

It didn’t help how the daziness was elevated as you scanned his features up close. He was unrealistically beautiful, carved gently.

Because he was who he was, you knew he meant what he said. For all the time you knew him, he was one to be honest. About how he felt, about what he felt and for who he felt. Though, when you questioned yourself what he might feel for you now, you’d say you don’t know.

Nodding along to his words, you leaned to your left, luckily having a wall to support you and not embarrassingly falling, you’d done enough that night. 

Without more words, he gently grabbed your hand and finished cleaning up the burst skin and spilled blood. You once again shut your eyes, this time tightly as you clenched your jaw when he applied ointment.

“ ‘hurts.” The treating part made you wince even more than when you were getting the injury. Probably how most of the adrenaline wore out by now.

“I know, ‘almost done.” He gently spoke up as he concentrated on patching up a bandage around your hand.

A quiet silence filled the space for a moment, and even though you did feel out of it, you could sense he had something to say.

“Why-why’d you do it?” He said as he finished with your hand, instructing you to sit up straight. His hand on your jaw did make you more alert even though he was very…gently doing it. It was colder than you expected, and you were sure he could feel how warm you were getting when he was slowly caressing it with a delicate touch.

“That’s outta bruise badly.” His eyes held remorse and his frown deepened. You didn’t even realize your own gaze lingered on his lips.

Gulping, your eyes darted away from his face. Maybe it was the guilt or the buzz, but you murmured out,

“...I- it was well…It was stupid but I- couldn’t control myself. I got mad.”

His hand paused and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was new. 

“They- they were saying stupid shit. I knew they were doing it to rile me and well they did that just right. It was fine when it was about me, I ignored it but I couldn’t stand the rest.”

Something in his chest flared as his confusion was slowly turning into realization but he continued letting you speak,

“They began talking shit about…about you.” You recalled the tone they used, the words they called him and you could feel the familiar annoyance and anger build up as they replayed in your mind.

“And I couldn’t stand it alright. I just…no one talks shit about you. No one except me. I mean, the fucking audacity to even say those…those things when they’re probably even worse!”

He blinked a few times to make sure he heard you right. You’d looked to the side, scowling as you clicked your tongue.

“Next thing I knew, I’d just hit someone and then the same happened to me. I guess maybe I deserved one but you should see the other idiot’s face.” You finally looked back into his eyes, a slight smile on your face when you recalled hearing the other dude’s nose definitely crunching and you were sure it would never be the same. You’d made it very sure.

He did not know what to feel. Amusement? Shock? Disbelief? But over them all, his heart fluttered wildly as his eyes scanned your face. The same one that had been haunting his mind since the first time he’d seen you, the first time he’d ever have someone make him more mad than anything yet made him want you closer. You were simply driving him insane since he’d met you. 

He just never realized, until now, that maybe he was never the only one who felt the same.

Tilting your head, you licked your lower lip, his gaze moving there for a brief moment, you said, “But you know what?”

One corner of your lip turned up as you smirked lightly, “I don’t regret it. I’d do it again in fact.”

His tongue felt heavy as the words clogged up in his throat, he gulped down the knot formed as he clenched his hand that was beside you, over the counter edge. He stared intently into your eyes, you could feel your heart beating faster as you leaned closer. 

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours as you fluttered your eyes shut, hand going over his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. His hands moved to your hips, pressing into them as if he was afraid you’d disappear and it was all a dream.

It was messy as you’d expect from two people whose own feelings were a mess, your non-injured hand ran over his hair and he groaned into the kiss. You might as well have just combusted then and there. 

Feeling the need to breathe, you gently pulled away, resting your forehead on his as his hand came up to your face, caressing it gently.

“You’re fucking insane, you know that right?” He breathed out as he tried to steady his own breathing and rapidly beating heart.

“Over you? Fuck yeah.”

extra a/n : ...yeah I'm sorry if the uhm kissing part sucked...it's been a very whole while.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | misc masterlist | main masterlist | info !

[eu-nicola]

the ferrari couple

summary: when Charles signs with Ferrari, his life takes an unexpected turn when he falls in love with you "Princess Ferrari". Together both become the perfect couple, but behind public perfection, the pressure of your careers leads both in other ways

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4559

author's note: english is not my first language

this is a request from @pperlaaiy

The sound of engines rumbled across the Monza circuit. It was the 2018 Italian Grand Prix, and Charles Leclerc, still a Sauber driver, walked around the paddock with a mix of pride and nervousness. That year had been crucial for him; rumours of his possible promotion to Ferrari felt increasingly real. However, the pressure of being at home, surrounded by tifosi who idolised the Scuderia, kept him on his toes. 

As he made his way to the Ferrari hospitality area, Charles paused for a moment, awed by the spectacle before him. Surrounded by photographers, journalists and Ferrari employees, there was you. You seemed to shine with a light of your own, dressed in an impeccable white two-piece suit that bore discreet touches of Ferrari red, the colour that so represented your lineage. Perfectly coiffed hair, dark sunglasses and a confident smile that showed no trace of nervousness. In that moment, you were everything Ferrari stood for: tradition, elegance and power. 

“Who is she?” Charles asked his engineer, unable to look away.

“Don’t you know? She’s related to Enzo Ferrari. Her mother, Sofia Ferrari, is practically the queen of the car group. She’s like the princess of the house.”

Charles nodded slowly, impressed, but also intimidated. He had heard about you before, how you were an iconic figure in and out of the world of motorsport. You were known not only for your surname, but for your involvement in Ferrari’s most exclusive events, your innate elegance, and the way you upheld your family’s legacy. The fact that you were unreachable only added to your aura.

However, what happened next took Charles completely by surprise. While he tried to hide his interest and continue on his way, you turned around and your eyes met his. Taking off your sunglasses, you smiled with that mix of kindness and confidence that baffled everyone.

“Charles Leclerc, right?” You asked, stepping closer gracefully.

He blinked, surprised that you knew who he was. "Uh, yeah, I'm Charles," he replied, trying to sound relaxed, though he felt the heat rising to his face.

“I have to say, you’ve impressed many at Ferrari this year,” you said, shaking his hand. Your tone was gentle, but your words carried a weight he couldn’t ignore. “My uncle won’t stop talking about you. I think you’re destined for great things.”

Charles scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture contrasting with your poise. “I hope so. Being part of Ferrari would be… a dream.”

“A dream, but also a responsibility,” you replied, your gaze becoming more intense. “Ferrari isn’t just a team, Charles. It’s a family, a history. The tifosi don’t see you as just a driver; they see you as a symbol. And that’s not something just anyone can carry.”

He nodded slowly, feeling the weight of your words. He’d heard similar speeches before, but coming from you, they held a different meaning. “I know. And I’m willing to give my all to live up to it.”

You stared at him for a moment, assessing him. Finally, you smiled again, this time with a hint of genuine warmth. “I hope so, Charles. I’d love to see you succeed at Ferrari. But for now, enjoy Monza. It’s a magical place, don’t you think?”

“It is,” he replied, relaxing a little. “Even more so now.”

Your laugh was soft, but enough for the few people around to notice the chemistry that seemed to be brewing between the two of you. Before you could respond, a team member called out to you from a distance. With a slight nod to Charles, you walked away, leaving behind a sweet scent and an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.

Charles stood still for a few seconds, taking in what had just happened. He had met the “princess of Ferrari,” but beyond your name and lineage, what had struck him most was your presence. There was something about you that challenged him, that made him want to prove he was worthy of being in your world.

That night, during the official Ferrari dinner, they met again. You were surrounded by important figures in motorsport, but when Charles entered the room, your eyes instinctively sought him out. This time, you didn't need to approach him; he took the initiative.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the chair next to yours.

You smiled, amused. "Of course. I hope you're ready, Charles."

"If I can survive Monza, I think I can handle this," he replied, feeling more confident.

And so, over glasses of wine and conversations filled with jokes and witty observations, something began that neither of you could have foreseen. You weren't just Ferrari's princess; you were a challenge, a mystery. And for Charles, the young driver who dreamed of conquering the world, you became the most fascinating target of all.

After that first meeting at Monza, Charles couldn't get you out of his mind. Despite being immersed in the demands of his season with Sauber, he found moments between races and training to remember the conversations he'd had with you. For your part, there was something about him that intrigued you. Maybe it was his humility, his ambition, or the way he seemed to shine even under the pressure of the spotlight.

The next few times you met were at Ferrari-related events, always in formal settings where professional distance was the norm. However, that barrier slowly began to break down.

It was a cool evening in Maranello. Ferrari had organised a private dinner to celebrate the season's achievements and start looking ahead. Although the evening was for the official drivers, Charles was invited as a gesture of goodwill, as the announcement of his joining Ferrari for the 2019 season was imminent.

You met him in the event's illuminated gardens, while escaping a boring conversation with a group of executives. Charles was alone, a glass of wine in his hand, admiring the statue of Enzo Ferrari that presided over the place. You approached him with a light smile.

"Thinking about how to fill those shoes?" you asked, stopping beside him.

Charles turned his head, surprised but genuinely happy to see you. "More like wondering if I'll ever make it."

“It’s a start,” you said, shrugging. “He always said that the true spirit of Ferrari isn’t in perfection, but in passion. If you have that, you’re already halfway there.”

He looked at you, with a mix of admiration and curiosity. “Do you feel that passion too? For Ferrari, I mean.”

You nodded, crossing your arms to protect yourself from the cold. “Of course. I grew up surrounded by this world, but it’s not just the family name. It’s everything it represents: the history, the tifosi, the constant struggle to be the best. It’s not easy to live with it, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing your words. Then he smiled, a soft but sincere gesture. “It’s funny. All that you describe is what scares me and excites me at the same time. Being at Ferrari means so much more than being a fast driver. It’s… something bigger.”

You turned to him, studying him carefully. There was something about his honesty that disarmed you, a rarity in a world full of appearances. “And you think you’re ready for it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “But I want to try. And I’ll do my best to prove that I’m worthy of it.”

The determination in his voice made you smile. “That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid to admit your doubts, but you’re not afraid to face them either.”

He stared at you, as if he was trying to figure something out in you. “And you? Have you always been this sure of yourself?”

The question took you by surprise. You looked down for a moment before answering. “Not always. But when you grow up in this family, you learn to hide your insecurities.”

Before the conversation could go any deeper, one of the attendants called out to you from a distance. “Y/N, you’re needed inside.”

You sighed, but not before giving Charles one last smile. "Don't let them intimidate you in there. And remember: Ferrari is more than a car, it's a family."

The real change in your relationship came weeks later, when Ferrari made the official announcement that Charles would be a driver for the 2019 season. The news flooded the headlines and thrilled the tifosi, who saw him as the future of the team. That evening, you hosted a private dinner at your family villa in Maranello, inviting only a few people close to the team, including Charles.

"Thank you for inviting me," Charles said when he arrived, wearing a simple but elegant suit. There was something different in his gaze that night: a mix of confidence and gratitude.

"Of course," you replied as you greeted him. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to celebrate our new star."

The evening passed quietly, with laughter, anecdotes and toasts to the future. However, you both noticed that your eyes met more often than usual. When dinner ended and the other guests began to leave, Charles was one of the last to stay.

"Would you like to see something special?" You asked, taking a glass of wine and leading him towards the villa's garage.

Inside, covered by tarps, were some of Ferrari's most iconic models, from the first cars created by Enzo to the most modern ones. Charles walked among them in wonder, like a child in a candy store.

"It's amazing," he murmured. "It's like being in a private museum."

"It is," you said, leaning against one of the cars. "Every car here has a story. And now you will be a part of that story."

He stopped in front of you, his expression serious but warm. "I hope I can live up to it. Not just for Ferrari, but for you as well."

The intensity of his words took you by surprise, but you didn't back down. There was something about his sincerity that drew you hopelessly.

"Charles..." you began, but he interrupted you.

“I’m not saying this because you’re from the Errari family or because you’re in a position of power. I’m saying this because you, as a person, inspire me. And I want you to know that I will do everything I can to not let you down.”

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. And as the silence stretched between you both, Charles took a step towards you. There was no need to say anything else; the moment said it all.

That night marked the start of something special. What had started as a casual connection became a relationship that you both knew would be intense, complicated, but also unique.

After that, the end of 2018 was a whirlwind of emotions for Charles. He had closed his season with Sauber in an exceptional way, earning the respect of the tifosi and securing his place at Ferrari for the following year. But the most unexpected thing for him had been the relationship that had formed with you. During those months, you went from being two occasional acquaintances at events to becoming confidants and something more.

Your meetings, although few due to his constant travels, were full of complicity. He had invited you to accompany him to a couple of races outside Italy, and although you kept everything under a strict low profile, the members of the paddock were beginning to notice that there was something between you. The candlelit dinners, the walks through Maranello and the deep conversations.

For Charles, you were much more than a "Ferrari". You were someone who understood him, someone who saw beyond the image of a promising driver. For you, Charles was a breath of fresh air in a world full of appearances. In him, you found someone honest, humble and passionate.

However, you both knew that things would change in 2019. With Charles officially becoming a Ferrari driver, the attention on both of you would increase, and you would have to decide how you would face what was to come together.

When the 2019 season began, everything changed. Not only was Charles Ferrari's new rising star, he also unwittingly became the centre of media attention. The relationship between the two, which until then had remained in the shadows, inevitably began to come to light.

The first time photographers caught you together was at the Monaco Grand Prix. You were in the paddock, leaning against a railing as you talked animatedly to Charles. You were wearing a red outfit that paid homage to the Scuderia, and your laughter echoed above the roar of the engines. The media was quick to dub you the “prince and princess of Ferrari.”

“Does all this attention bother you?” Charles asked you that afternoon, as you walked together through the Monte Carlo harbor.

“A little,” you admitted, adjusting your sunglasses. “But I also know it’s inevitable. I guess we’ll just have to learn to handle it together.”

Charles nodded, taking your hand gently. “We will.”

It was an intense year, full of challenges for both of you. Charles had to deal with the pressure of being a Ferrari driver, while you were constantly surrounded by the critical eyes of the press and tifosi, who analyzed your every move. Far from separating them, however, those challenges brought them closer together.

The moments they shared off the track became their refuge. There were days when Charles would arrive exhausted after a difficult race, and you would call him to give him words of encouragement. There were also nights when you, exhausted, would find comfort in his embrace.

By 2020, you were no longer just a couple at Ferrari; you were the couple. Cameras followed you everywhere, and social media couldn't stop talking about you. Photos of you at Formula 1 galas, at private Scuderia events, and even on vacation in Italy went viral instantly.

The tifosi loved how they represented the essence of Ferrari: Charles was the young driver full of talent and promise, and you, the sophisticated and passionate woman who seemed to be the embodiment of the Ferrari legacy. No matter where they were, together they projected an image of perfection that fascinated the world.

However, behind the flashes, things were not always easy. The 2020 season was a complicated year for Ferrari, with performance issues testing Charles as a driver. For him, it was frustrating to go from being a constant contender to fighting to stay in the top 10. There were times when tensions were palpable, but you always found a way to remind him of his worth.

“Charles,” you told him one night after a disappointing race at Spa, as you both sat on the balcony of his hotel room. “You are not just a Ferrari driver. You are the future of Ferrari. Enzo always said that difficult races are the ones that make true champions. And you are one of them.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily, you won’t have to find out,” you replied with a smile.

That mutual strength was what made you two so special. While Charles faced the challenges of the track, you struggled to keep outside pressures at bay, defending your relationship from rumors and criticism.

By the end of 2020, you were more than a couple; you were a symbol. The prince and princess of Ferrari, two figures who represented everything the brand stood for: history, passion, and the promise of a bright future.

What no one imagined was that beneath that image of perfection, the first cracks were beginning to form. Because, although the love you felt for each other was real, the demands of your worlds were not always compatible.

The end of 2020 marked a turbulent time both on and off the track. Ferrari was facing one of its worst seasons in years, and while Charles continued to show his talent, the car simply wasn’t up to par. You, for your part, had been dealing with the mounting pressures of your family name: new projects, the constant expectation that you represent Ferrari at key events, and increasing scrutiny over your relationship with Charles.

Through it all, you never let the internal tensions leak outward. To the world, you were still the couple. You were seen smiling at events, with Charles looking at you as if you were his anchor, and you showing yourself unwavering, like the pillar holding him up. But what no one saw was the distance that was beginning to form between you.

The breaking point began subtly, with small misunderstandings and differences that you had previously managed with grace.

During the final races of the season, you noticed that Charles was more distant. Although he remained affectionate with you in public, in private his attention seemed to be elsewhere. His days were consumed by endless team meetings, interviews, and hours of work trying to squeeze the maximum potential out of an unresponsive car. When he came home, he was exhausted, and conversations between the two of you were reduced to an exchange of short sentences.

“How was it today?” you asked, waiting for an answer that never came with any depth.

“Good, the usual,” he would reply, often without looking at you, lost in thought.

It wasn’t Charles’ fault, you knew. The weight he carried on his shoulders was immense, and you wanted to be understanding. But you couldn’t help but feel displaced, as if your place in his life had taken a backseat.

For your part, you were dealing with your own problems as well. Your family expected you to take a more active role in the company, and every step you took was scrutinized. The endless meetings, strategic decisions, and social expectations were draining you. There were nights when you sat alone in your Maranello apartment, wondering if this was the life you really wanted.

The night of the final race of the season, in Abu Dhabi, you decided you needed to talk. You had prepared dinner in the hotel suite, hoping to reconnect before heading back to Italy. Charles arrived late, tired but trying not to show it.

“This looks amazing,” he commented, cracking a smile as he sat across from you.

“I wanted us to close the year with something special,” you replied, trying to hide the anxiety in your voice.

For a while, the conversation flowed as before. You talked about the race, the tifosi, and even joked about how the media had called you “Ferrari royalty” in a recent article. But then, the tone changed.

“Charles, I’ve been thinking,” you began, hands shaking slightly. “Do you think… we’re okay?”

He looked up, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve grown apart,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. “We don’t talk like we used to anymore, we don’t spend time together. I feel like all of this—” you gestured vaguely at the world around them, “—is consuming us.”

Charles sighed, setting his fork down on the table. “I know. I’ve felt the same way. But I thought… that it was temporary. That after this season, things would get better.”

“What if they don’t?” you asked, facing the fear you’d been suppressing for months.

For a moment, Charles didn’t say anything. His silence was like a confirmation of what you both feared: that the weight of your individual lives was overshadowing what you had together.

“I love you,” he finally said, with a sincerity that almost brought tears to your eyes. "But I don't know if I'm being fair to you. I don't know if I can be the person you need right now."

The decision wasn't made in one night, but that conversation marked the beginning of the end. Over the following weeks, both tried to hold on to what they had, but silences were more frequent than words, and the emotional distance became increasingly evident.

The news of their separation came in January 2021, shortly after the Christmas holidays. There were no official statements or public explanations; they simply stopped appearing together, and rumours began to circulate.

The paddock was in shock. Neither of them had given any indication of trouble, and for the tifosi, they represented perfection. But those who knew them closely knew the truth: there was no big fight, no betrayal, just the inevitable wear and tear of two people trapped in worlds that demanded too much of them.

The last time you saw him was at a Ferrari event in early 2021. He was beaming, smiling at photographers as he spoke to management. When your eyes met, he gave you a small, almost melancholic smile, which you returned with a similar gesture.

There were no words, but they didn't need to be. You both knew that what you had was unique, special, and that it would always be a part of you. But you also knew that you had made the right decision, even if it hurt.

The prince and princess of Ferrari had split up, leaving the world baffled and the tifosi heartbroken.

The months following the breakup were like a whirlwind, even though neither of you openly acknowledged it. You and Charles had decided to keep the reasons for the end of your relationship private, but that only fueled the speculation. The media kept wondering what had happened between the prince and princess of Ferrari, and the tifosi couldn't accept that something so perfect had fallen apart for no apparent reason.

Despite the noise, you both tried to move on, each in your own way. But as they tried to build new routines, the world kept watching, waiting for some sign, some word that would explain the inexplicable.

The first image of Charles with another woman appeared one day in March. It was a casual photograph, taken by a fan in Monte Carlo. Charles was in a café, smiling as he chatted with a blonde, light-eyed girl. It didn't seem like a romantic encounter, but the closeness between the two and the carefree smile on Charles' face unleashed a wave of comments.

“Who is she?”

“Has she replaced her already?”

“She’s probably her cousin or something, Charles wouldn’t do this.”

For your part, you tried to ignore it. You knew Charles had the right to move on, as did you, but you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach as fans began to theorize about his love life.

It wasn’t long before you were making headlines too. A few weeks later, during a gala event in Milan, you arrived accompanied by an Italian businessman known for his charisma and fortune. He offered you his arm as you walked down the red carpet, and although you maintained a professional smile, the camera flashes captured something that the media interpreted as complicity.

The reaction was not long in coming.

“She already has a boyfriend? This can’t be real.”

“Charles and her were perfect, this doesn’t make sense.”

“The princes of Ferrari are dating commoners now, apparently.”

Social media became a battleground between fans. There were those who supported the idea of ​​the two moving on with their lives, but there were also those who clung to the hope of a reconciliation. Every photo of Charles with his supposed new partner was analyzed in detail, and the same was true for you.

On your Instagram profile, the comments were a reflection of the tifosi's pain:

"Please tell me this isn't true."

"Why did you break up? I never understood it."

"Get back together, there's still time."

Charles faced the same thing. Even in the simplest photos — an afternoon training or a day on the simulator — the responses were full of mentions of you.

"Everything is more boring without Princess Ferrari."

"I hope you're happy, but I'll never forget what you had."

Neither you nor Charles made any comments on the matter. You both knew that any statement would only fuel further speculation, and the last thing you wanted was to turn your past relationship into a public spectacle.

At Ferrari events, it was inevitable that your paths would cross, although you always kept your distance. During a presentation of the Scuderia for the 2021 season, you sat in the front row next to the management, while Charles took his place on the stage, talking about his expectations for the year.

Your eyes met for a brief second. It was enough for the photographers to capture the moment, but not enough for either of you to show any obvious emotion. You held his gaze calmly, while he quickly turned his gaze towards the audience.

After the event, you avoided the cocktail party that followed. You knew the media would be waiting for any interaction between you, and you weren't about to fuel any more rumors. However, as you were leaving, you received a text on your phone.

"I saw you left early. I hope you're okay."

It was from Charles.

You read it a few times before pocketing your phone without responding. Although the message seemed innocent, it only made the emptiness in your chest feel heavier.

Despite appearances, moving on wasn't easy for either of you. Charles could put on a smile next to his new companion, but in moments of solitude, he found his mind drifting back to the days he shared with you. The walks through Maranello, the conversations in the early morning, even the small arguments over insignificant things: it was all still there, like an echo that refused to go away.

You weren't immune either. Although you were dating someone new, you hadn't felt that connection you once had with Charles. Every time you saw their name in the headlines, your heart beat a little faster, and images of what was and what could have been filled your mind.

Still, you both kept going, at least in the eyes of the world. The smiles at events, the carefully curated posts on social media, everything seemed to indicate that you had put the past behind you. But the others seemed unwilling to let it go.

The tifosi kept waiting. In every Ferrari post, in every interview, in every public appearance, someone always asked about you.

"Will you come back one day?"

"You were the heart of Ferrari."

"Without you, this is not the same anymore."

And although neither you nor Charles answered, that question kept hanging in the air, like a wound that time did not quite heal. Because although you had gone your separate ways, the world was not ready to forget you.

And, perhaps, deep down, neither were you.

[immortalmrwavell]

Blake’s Billion Dollar Opportunity

(Original story posted April 7th 2022) This story has been Updated!

Blake was stunned when he found out he’d actually been accepted by Mr Henry Anders to be the new gardener for his mansion. He’d heard the rich older man was very strict and particular when it came to his staff. But when Blake saw a vacancy open up at the mansion for a new gardener on the team, he decided to throw his hat in the ring. After all, the pay was nearly ten times what he’d been earning up until now as a freelancer plus he’d get to keep doing what he loved. It’d be a win-win!

That in mind Blake never expected to actually get in! Applying to a job like that felt like buying a scratch card and hoping for a jackpot. You never think you’ll actually win the big prize. So when he saw the email confirming his acceptance to the job, Blake was ecstatic! He hadn’t even done an interview but they already wanted him to start the following Monday. It was a dream come true.

On the very first day he was greeted at the front gate by Mr Anders himself along with some other staff members. Blake was understandably taken aback by this. After all, he was just the gardener. If anything he’d expected maybe one member of staff to greet him and get him straight to work. Yet instead he was guided inside the mansion and sat down for a free lunch with the rich billionaire himself.

Mr Anders seemed to ask question after question as they ate. Blake figured they would be his skills and what his job would be like working here but most of the questions didn’t even pertain to the job. He asked about Blake’s family and life first before moving onto his upbringing and friends. Diving into all sorts of strangely personal questions for an employer to ask a new employee. Of course Blake thought it odd but went along with it just to make sure his new high paying job would be secured. Almost started to feel like a date until Anders stood at last and offered Blake a firm handshake while officially welcoming him to staff.

Not too long afterwards he was put straight to work. Another staff member briefed him on what needed doing as he was taken to pick up where the previous gardener had left off.

Scoping out the area, it looked as though the last guy had been half-way through a job when he left. It was fairly obvious with one part of the garden looking elegant and recently pampered while the bit right next to it was… not so much. Blake heard that the previous gardener quit very suddenly with zero notice. Some said he even left the country but nobody knew why. Well whatever the reason it had opened one hell of an opportunity for Blake.

The first week at the mansion seemed to go perfectly overall. That said, there were a couple weird things he’d noticed. For example Mr Anders would frequently come outside to see how Blake was getting on with the gardening. He’d always be so kind and humble, even having someone bring refreshments out for the two of them. He’d even bring a garden chair with him most of the time so he could sit and watch Blake work as they chatted. At first he just assumed Mr Anders was just a really nice person that liked to take care of his employees. However it didn’t take long for him to realise that nobody else seemed to be receiving this kind of special treatment.

Blake couldn’t quite figure out why this was happening for that whole first week. That was until the following Tuesday when it was particularly hot outside. He’d been sweating through his shirt so much that he eventually decided to take it off in order to cool down. Leaving it to one side as he continued with his work in all his shirtless glory. His muscles glistening under the summer rays.

Not long after Mr Anders came out to chat like he had almost everyday so far with a refreshing beverage. This time however he couldn’t help but notice the older man glancing at his hairy torso. Was his boss checking him out? Surely not right? That’s when Blake glanced down at Anders crotch and his suspicion was all but confirmed. There was a very clear outline of an erect cock pressing against his suit pants, getting harder by the second!? To say he felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. Sure Blake was gay as well but this was his Boss! It was completely inappropriate. Anders might’ve been pretty handsome for his age but the man was almost 30 years older than him!

Had this been any other job he would’ve wanted to quit right then and there. Truth is he had a relationship with an employer in the past and let’s just say it didn’t end well. Crashed and burned would be an accurate description. But this job was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It was far too good of an opportunity to lose. He was being paid more than he ever had been in his life! He’d be a fool to mess this up. And so… he stayed.

After that Blake’s second week certainly had a different feel to it. Mr Anders would still come out to chat or even just to watch him work from across the garden but now it didn’t just feel kind like before. Rather it felt as though he was being objectified. Watched constantly like he was a piece of meat. Eye candy for the rich billionaire to settle his eyes on whenever he pleased. As uncomfortable as it made him though, Blake just tried to focus his mind on the pay he was getting. As long as Anders didn’t try to make some kind of move on him then he could live with it.

Finally Sunday came again and it was a scorcher just like last week. Blake was a little more reluctant to take his shirt off this time but in the end he was sweating so profusely that he had no choice. Then, not to the young gardener’s surprise, Anders came strolling out of the mansion a mere 10 minutes later heading straight towards him. Blake assumed he was just gonna get eye fucked for the next hour or so like usual. Instead he was surprised when Mr Anders offered him to come inside the mansion. The older man said he was impressed with the work he’d seen so far and was thinking of rewarding his newest staff member. Blake was reluctant to follow the man for a moment but in the end didn’t think he had much of a choice. Besides, it sounded like he was about to get a bonus.

Upon following Mr Anders through the mansion and into a large ornate office, Blake immediately felt safer when he saw two guards standing by the door. At least that meant Anders wasn’t gonna try anything… right?

The billionaire turned and leaned against his desk, very clearly eying up Blake’s body. It was as though Anders was sizing up the man before him for reasons still unknown. Eyes wandering across Blake’s pecs and biceps before scanning over his bulge and legs. His gaze then returned to Blake’s face as their eyes met briefly only for a devilish grin formed across his face. The oblivious gardener was none the wiser to what was about to happen as Anders made some sort of signal to the guards. Upon seeing it, the two large men grabbed hold of Blake, restraining him completely.

“H-HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” Blake bellowed, attempting to break free but to no avail.

Mr Anders simply stared at him with a hunger in his eyes, shamelessly rubbing his bulge while doing so. “Oh I can’t even put into words how excited I am for this Blake…” He murmured while stepping closer to inspect his shirtless employee. “You know I was gonna wait another week or so for this but after seeing you today I just can’t resist any longer… I must say those shorts are very well fitted aren’t they.” He licked his lips while unzipping his pants and allowing his cock to flop out.

Blake’s eyes widened at the sight. “THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! PUT YOUR DICK AWAY!” The younger man screamed before threatening to get the police involved for sexual harassment if they didn’t let him go. Though it seemed his words fell upon deaf ears as Anders started pumping his cock before reaching forwards to feel Blake’s chest. “DON’T FUCKIN TOUCH ME YOU CREEP!”

“Oooooh nice and hairy… much hairier than I’ve ever been. And all this muscle too…” Anders murmured with a smile. His hands felt around Blake’s fuzzy pecs before giving his biceps a gentle squeeze despite the man’s constant protest. “Oh yeah. This’ll do just perfectly.” He bit his lip lustfully before stepping a little closer and taking a deep breath. The billionaire's cock couldn’t help but jump at the sweaty aroma protruding from Blake’s body. “And I can’t wait to smell that scent on my *new* body everyday…” He pumped his cock a few more times before glancing over at one of the body guards and giving him a nod. Next thing Blake knew, he had a needle plunged into his neck. Before long he was out cold.

———

Blake later awoke groggily only to find himself restrained and unable to move. He was bound to a chair in a strange room he didn’t recognise. All sorts of machines and equipment surrounded him but most notably was whatever weird device was sat atop his head. It was like some sort of metal helmet. He was quickly starting to panic when he saw none other than Mr Anders walk into his field of vision.

“P-p-please let me go… I-I don’t… I’ll give y-you whatever you want!” Blake pleaded desperately.

“Oh don’t worry. I’m gonna have exactly what I want from you when this is over.” Anders smirked while licking his lips. The cryptic response sent chills through Blake’s body. Anders massaged his bulge again while inspecting every little detail of Blake’s body. He was basically drooling at the sight before proceeding to sit himself down in another chair adjacent to Blake.

Anders let out a sigh of relief. “You know my original plan was to do this with my previous Gardener. Unfortunately he must’ve found out about my plan somehow. It’s the only way to explain why he left so suddenly… But I think I prefer you over him anyway…”

Another man dressed in a lab coat came over to help strap down Mr Anders into his chair. He then grabbed another helmet identical to what Blake had on his head and placed it on Anders. It and the helmet Blake was wearing both seemed to be linked up with some massive machine that sat idle behind both men.

“Alright let’s do this!” Anders announced with glee. “I don’t wanna wait another second!”

Of course Blake could only scream in protest until he heard the machine buzzing to life. Electricity began shooting through it and into the devices on their heads causing both men to shake and convulse violently. A small team of scientists watched on as the men’s brains were stimulated in all kinds of strange ways. Naturally this included the pleasure centre. The last thing Blake felt was getting a massive erection before having multiple intense orgasms. His cock erupting load after load and soaking the front of his shorts. After that, he completely blacked out.

———

The two were out cold for an hour. The scientists who’d been operating the machine kept a close eye on the two men and their vitals as they slept. Eventually however, Mr Henry Anders himself was the first to awaken.

The second he gained consciousness, his eyes shot open wide with excitement. With a grin he looked down at his body with sheer lust and joy. “HAHAAA!! YES IT WORKED!” He beamed! The sound of his deeper rougher voice was like music to his ears.

Looking down Mr Anders no longer saw the suit he’d been wearing but rather the very same tight shorts his sexy fucking gardener had been wearing. Only now with a huge cumstain covering the crotch area. But that was the least of his concern. His body… No longer did it look thin and aged. He was young! And he was buff too! He’d never imagined he’d have proper pecs but here he was looking down at a hairy pair sitting on his chest. He just wanted to grope them so badly!!

“Quick! Undo these restraints so I can feel my new body!” Anders urged.

One of the scientists rushed over to free Mr Anders upon his request. They undid the straps around his wrists and ankles before unlocking the belt around his torso that’d kept him pinned to the chair.

“Fuuuuuuuck this feels incredible…” he groaned as he slowly stood from the chair and stretched out his new limbs. “No more aches or pains… and I feel so much stronger…” Anders flexed a bicep before running a hand across the forest of chest hair covering his pecs. He wasn’t able to help pinching one of his nipples in the process, allowing a soft satisfied grunt to escape his lips.

“Would you like a mirror sir?” One of the scientists asked with a half smile.

“Yes! Yes of course!” Anders responded with joy.

Within moments a pair of assistants had a full body mirror wheeled into the room with a sheet covering it. They warned Anders that it may take some time for his mind to adjust to his new reflection and that seeing a new face may be disorienting at first. Anders gave an understanding nod before reaching out and uncovering the mirror.

”Ooooohh fuuuuck… This is…” He could hardly form the words as he stared into his new reflection. Looking back at him wasn’t an older man with silver hair. Rather it was the young and strong man he’d hired to be his new gardener. Blake. The man he’d been having wet dreams about ever since he saw the hairy hunk’s application to work at the mansion. Dreams about this very moment where he’d get to look in a mirror and see that handsome face as his own. “Astounding.”

His fingers began to curiously poke and prod at his younger facial features. The scientists were right, it was certainly disorienting. It almost felt like an illusion. But the rush he got from running his hands through his new much thicker beard easily proved otherwise along with every other inch of his new body. “My hair is so dark. Barely a single grey hair in sight… and I could never grow a beard that was naturally this rich before.” Each and every new sensation felt like its own rush. Every single one making him more and more excited to explore his new form further.

“I take it Mr Blake Johnson’s body is to your liking then sir?” Asked another of the scientists.

“Mmmmm yes. Absolutely. This body is perfect!” Anders exclaimed as he began to flex his biceps to the mirror. Loving how his younger and larger muscles bulged with so much strength and vigor. “Now leave me. I want to explore myself with a bit more privacy.”

“Are you sure? What if he wakes up?” Another of the scientists chimed in, referring to the other body that was still unconscious in one of the chairs. Mr Anders original body.

Anders turned to look at the sleeping body he once inhabited. “If he does, I’ll deal with him. Now I’ll call you back when I’m ready, thank you.” He said, still commanding the same level of authority as ever despite his new form.

And with that all the scientists and their assistants vacated the room, leaving only Anders and his former body.

The second the door shut he began groping at his hairy youthful body like a lust crazed animal. Starting with his pecs as he kneaded the thick hairy barrels of muscle on his chest. “Fuck! I just love all this hair! Feels so fucking manly!…” He groaned to himself as he continued to worship his furry torso.

Through all the roughing and squeezing, Anders started to get a whiff of that familiar scent he’d grown so attracted to over these last couple weeks. That sweaty scent that Blake always seemed to brandish on hot days no matter how much deodorant he wore. Only now it was coming directly from his body! It wasn’t long before It wasn’t long before he lifted up both arms in front of the mirror to expose his furry pits and the mere sight was breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as the scent that emanated from them. Anders just couldn’t stop himself from stuffing his new nose into each of them and inhaling his new sweaty aroma deeply, allowing it to flood his senses in a purely euphoric way.

Of course his cock was already jumping to life at all the excitement and there was no way he was gonna ignore that calling for any longer. Anders reached down and grabbed his damp, sticky bulge. He kneaded at his dick through the shorts Blake had been wearing until he couldn’t take it any longer. He basically ripped the shorts off in a horny frenzy before grabbing hold of his new member, still slick and wet with all the cum Blake shot during the switching process.

“Now THIS is a cock befitting of a billionaire!” He announced proudly, noting it’s superior length and girth while smacking the pulsing member against his hand. He looked back towards the mirror, getting incredibly turned on at the sight of the man he’d been lusting for. Even more so as he turned his backside to the reflection. “And a billion dollar ass to boot!” He added, grasping both of his bubbly new asscheeks in all their hefty hairy glory.

Of course Anders wasn’t able to resist slipping a finger into his new hole and was pleasantly surprised at how welcoming and relaxed it felt. He knew Blake was gay of course but he hadn’t anticipated his new ass having already been trained incredibly well for taking dick. Anders would’ve considered himself a top before since bottoming never felt that great in his old body. But now? He was actually craving for some dick to fill him up as he fingered himself some more. Now going as far as to stuff three meaty fingers inside his needy hole. He figured he’d have to become more versatile from now on considering his new ass was essentially crafted for cock. But he still planned on doing his fair share of dominating in bed.

Anders must’ve been pumping his fingers in and out of his hairy hole for another solid ten minutes before he finally pulled them out with a grunt. He’d supposed he’d have to buy himself a few sex toys to help satisfy his hole when he was alone from now on. Perhaps a few dildos or buttplugs. He was getting excited just thinking about it.

Once he’d turned back around to face the mirror properly, He resumed pumping his cum covered cock while relishing in every sense his new body experienced. “Damn… my old cock hadn’t felt this hard and virile in years…” He mumbled to himself, having forgotten until now what it was like to be in the prime of his life.

He licked the cum off his hand before striking a couple poses in the mirror to see his new self from every possible angle. With every pose making him hornier, making his cock twitch to the point where it was already beginning to leak pre-cum again. Anders just couldn’t wait to shoot his load. Though just as he was about to start vigorously jerking off to his reflection, he heard a low grumble come from behind…

Blake was finally starting to come around. Right off the bat he felt woozy but more importantly his body just felt… off. He blinked his eyes open slowly only to come face to face with none other than a very familiar ass. It almost looked like his own ass?… And It seemed as though the nude man standing in front of him was flexing and posing into a mirror or something? What the hell was going on?!

Glancing down, Blake was even more confused to see that he was now wearing a suit yet he was still strapped down to a chair. The last thing he remembered was his eyes rolling back as he was cumming uncontrollably. Looking down he saw and felt that there was indeed a wet patch… but he was wearing his shorts when that happened right? How could he have soaked these suit pants?

He must’ve been making some noise though as he quickly caught the attention of the naked man before home. When he turned around however, Blake’s eyes widened in both shock and horror.

It was… himself!?!?

His face?! His body!? Even down the birthmark on his hip… BUT HOW!!!? He had all these questions swirling in his mind and yet his mouth ran dry. He was left simply staring agape at his doppelgänger, not knowing how even to begin processing what the hell was going on.

“Well well well. Look who’s finally with us.” Anders gave Blake the smuggest grin imaginable. He was so damn happy that the other man could be awake to see this now. “Enjoying the view?” He taunted, bobbing his cock up and down a little.

“B-but you…you l-look like…” Blake noticed the difference in his voice as he spoke. Older? Raspier? And somewhat familiar yet he couldn’t place why?

“You?” Anders finished Blake’s sentence. “Well it’s not really you anymore. It’s me.” He chuckled. “You see that machine that I had us hooked up to is a very special device. I’ve had a team working on it for years. It was made with the capability of transferring brainwaves and memories between two human brains. So put simply, it’s a body swapping machine.” Getting to see the further look of shock and terror on his former face was even more satisfying than Anders had hoped.

Blake couldn’t believe what he’d just heard… but it was starting to make sense. He was wearing a suit that was identical to the one Mr Anders had been wearing that day. His voice sounded different and older. His body felt strange and weak. And most of all he was sitting in front of what would’ve been his twin!! Yet despite all that, he still didn’t want to believe it.

“NO! That’s not possible! Y-you’re lying!!” Blake shouted in denial, his voice hoarse.

“Am I?” With that Anders moved to the left, no longer blocking the mirror. What Blake saw was none other than the face and body of the old Mr Anders mimicking his every move and expression. Still strapped into the chair as he was. He wanted to scream or shout or do anything!… but he was frozen. Unable to do anything but stare at the reflection until his own naked body stepped back in front of him again.

“Hey. Don’t look so down old man.” Anders placed his hands on his hips as he looked down at Blake with a tiny glimpse of pity in his eyes. “Trust me when I say this could’ve been way worse for you. I had to go through a lot of tedious legal trouble to get all my money and possessions transferred over to this new identity. I could’ve just put your name in a will and had that old body killed off after the swap. Would’ve been a lot less trouble for me on that front.”

At this point Blake was on the verge of tears. He’d just had his body and a huge portion of his youth stolen by his rich boss and there nothing he could do about it! He wanted to believe this was a dream. That none of it was real. Yet somehow it was. The unfortunate reality was that the thick cock he used to own was now being smacked against his now much older face

“You know I could just have you thrown out onto the streets with no money or home…” Anders began with a sinister leer. “But there might be a way you can convince me to offer you another job here at the mansion.” Anders rubbed his pulsing member across Blake’s face and through his silver beard before positioning the tip right in front of Blake’s lips. “You know I was just about to bust my first load in this body when you woke up. Jerking a big cock like this feels fucking incredible… but now I’m starting to think a good face fucking wouldn’t be so bad either. After all, your new face is still pretty handsome for a 59 year old.” He squeezed his cock, forcing precum to drool onto Blake’s lips.

Blake looked at the cock he used to own and then up at his former face as Anders grinning down at him manically. What was he supposed to do? He’d already lost his body and youth. Now if he didn’t do this he’d be homeless as well! He felt completely defeated. But at the same time, as much as he hated it, he was sort of aroused…

Anders let out a wicked laugh as he watched former body open its mouth, ready to be used. “Good fucking choice!” He announced before shoving his cock down Blake’s throat with no hesitation.

After that Anders wasted no time jackhammering his thick rod into the restrained man’s mouth over and over. He figured he’d have to put most of the effort into face fucking his former body which he did at first. But after a good few minutes of having cock stuffed down his throat, Blake seemed to put a bit of effort into sucking as well. Somewhat surprised by this, Anders began to slow down the pace and to his amusement, Blake was actually starting to give him a proper blowjob! Even pulling off for a moment to spit on his cock before wrapping his lips back around it. Anders couldn't help but laugh as he watched the tent rising in Blake’s suit pants. “Fuuuck I didn’t think you’d be so horny for your old cock. Not that I blame you.”

Blake had no idea what had come over him. He hated what he was doing! He was sucking off the man that’d stolen his body but at the same time he was just so damn horny. The very same dick that used to swing between his legs just looked so tasty. Not to mention that coating of cum that made it even more delicious to suck on. He could feel it drooling even more pre-cum into his mouth and the taste was nothing if not divine. One side of his brain was telling him to stop giving Anders this level of satisfaction after what he did but the other side so badly wanted to swallow his old body’s load.

“Yeeahhh that’s it. Worship my cock…” The billionaire cooed, feeling himself getting closer. He couldn’t help grabbing the back of Blake’s head and holding him all the way down until he was shoving the other man’s nose into his bush. “Aww fuucck! You like the smell of my crotch huh?” He already knew the answer via the deep inhales Blake was taking of it. All the while trying his best to continue sucking and working his tongue around the huge leaking member.

After that Anders had finally reached his breaking point. He let out a powerful roar as his balls tensed. Blake knew exactly what was coming because he used to make the very same roar and hated himself even more for getting excited over. Surprisingly though, Anders pulled out just at the last second before a wave of thick virile man seed exploded from his cock, completely drenching Blake’s middle aged face.

Anders continued to grunt and groan as his dick spurted shot after shot until at last he was empty. “Wow!… I don’t think my old balls were ever capable of producing that much cum. These things are really something.” He noted while fondling his crown jewels. He couldn’t help but smirk yet again as he noticed Blake trying to lap up some of the dripping cum from his face. “Here, suck whatever’s left out of that.” He offered before putting his cock back in the other man’s mouth.

“OKAY! YOU LOT CAN COME BACK IN NOW! I HOPE YOU HAVE THAT NEW SUIT READY!” Anders shouted, knowing that his scientists would still be right outside waiting.

The scientists scurried back in only to be slightly taken aback to see that their boss had nutted all over his previous body’s face. And was still getting sucked! Yet they tried to remain somewhat composed despite that. One of the scientists ordered a pair of assistants to go fetch their boss his new clothes. They nodded and came back moments later carrying a brand new suit that was tailored almost perfectly to the size of Anders' new body.

“Right, I think that’s enough for you” Anders said while pulling out of Blake’s mouth. He left the man panting in his restraints as he marched towards the assistants in all his naked glory before kindly taking the suit from them.

He proceeded to dress himself right then and there just so he could do it in front of Blake. He yanked on the briefs and dress socks before pulling up the fitted suit pants that did well to show off his new ass and bulge. He was impressed that he people had been able to get Blake’s sizes so accurate. Next was the crisp white button down finished with a dark blue tie.

Of course Anders then couldn’t help but give himself a once over in the mirror again. “God damn I look sexy” He complimented himself before looking back at Blake who was still glaring at him with a mix of lustful hunger and complete disgust. “Okay everyone! I’m going to get busy reintroducing myself to the world. I want you to free our friend here and help him get cleaned up. After that, find him some new work clothes so he can get back to doing my garden work.” Anders waved a hand dismissively as he strode towards the laboratory exit, his polished shoes clicking against the floor.

Blake was powerless. Unable to do anything but watch as his former 31 year old body walked away in that expensive suit looking as hot as ever. This was his life now. He was a 59 year old man past his prime and still working for the man that stole everything from him…

———

Two Months Later

Mr Blake Johnson was now known around the world as the mystery billionaire that, for some unknown reason, Henry Anders had signed his entire fortune and property over too. What confused the public even more was why Henry Anders was now working for Mr Johnson instead!? There were tons of rumours and theories circulating around what might’ve happened but nobody would ever know the real truth.

By now the new Henry had gotten used to his name and tried his best to accept it. He was still working as a Gardener for ‘Blake’ after all this time. Truth is he could’ve quit by now and tried to find a new job but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d developed such a hate/love relationship for his body snatcher. Of course he wanted his body back but at the same time whenever he saw Mr Johnson strutting around the grounds in another one of his fancy suits, he couldn’t help but feel so hot and turned on by the way he carried his stolen body. Like it’d always belonged to him.

Mr Johnson still frequently visited Henry while he was working in the gardens. Just like he had before all this. Though now it just felt like he did it to taunt the man he stole his new body from.

Every now and then however, Mr Johnson would invite Henry inside the mansion and into his office for a little ‘assistance’ while he worked on his business. Of course on most occasions this would end with Henry under the desk sucking away at his former cock and swallowing its load eagerly. Other days would be Henry offering up his silver fox ass to be a cock warmer for his boss as he worked. Before eventually getting pounded and creamed inside of course. It wasn’t easy considering Henry’s new older ass didn’t seem to take dick nearly as smoothly as his old ass did but he wasn’t given much choice.

The billionaire always made sure that Henry groaned “Blake! Blake!” over and over again as he was dominated by his former body just to drive home the idea that if wasn’t his name anymore. However, on days when Mr Johnson was in a particularly generous mood, he’d even let Henry fuck his furry ass of his over the desk. But that was rare. Usually Mr Johnson just shoved a vibrating butt plug up his hole and let it do its magic. Unless he had a hot hookup of course.

By this point Henry was a slave to his former self. He’d already admitted weeks ago. He’d obviously do anything to get his body back but at this point he knew that was impossible. The best he could do was stay as close to it as possible and let it inside him whenever Mr Johnson felt like it. Though recently Henry had noticed more and more younger hairy men being invited to the mansion. He can only hope that Mr Johnson isn’t getting bored of him in favour of these younger men. Maybe he should start training his ass some more to be a better bottom. Sure he was coming up on 60 years old in a couple months but it’s never too late to try right?

Anything to keep Mr Johnson interested in him.

[novvabee]

More Jegulily x reader pls 🙏🙏

so... ask and you shall receive.

Guess

poly!jegulily x reader

cw: so this is smut, MDNI (18+), oral (f and m receiving), slapping?, hair pulling, unprotected sex, swearing

word count:2.9k

You and Lily loved to rile up your boys. You played games, you teased, you taunted, you knew how to get your way. They were both easy to get riled up in different ways.

James was easy in the sense that if you dangled something in front of him, something he wanted, he would instantly forget what he was doing and drop everything for it. All it took was a lingering touch, a simple look, a suggestive comment, and he was putty in your hands. For Lily, it was often the first and last, for you it was usually the second. All he wanted was attention at the end of the day. 

Regulus was much harder, but after practice and trial and error on both you and Lily’s part, you found exactly what to do. Regulus liked to get what he wanted, all the time, so when either you or Lily would test him in a way that he couldn’t get what he wanted right when he wanted it, it would break him just a little bit. This often led to teasing comments in front of friends, suggestive whispers in class, hot and heavy kisses right before a quidditch match.

Tonight, you and Lily had a plan for both of them.

As the party raged on in the Gryffindor common room, you set your sights on James, setting your plan into motion. You found him lounging on one of the big squashy couches in front of the fireplace, talking with Marlene and Remus. You walked up to him and sat across his lap. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Hi love. How's your night been going?” He asked.

You smiled at him, sweet as sugar, “Not as fun without you.” you replied.

He chuckled and kissed your cheek again, then turned back to his conversation with his friends. They were talking about something to do with an upcoming hogsmeade weekend, and you were getting bored. You rested your head on James’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice anything. So you decided to amp up your antics.

You huffed and looked around, pretending to be upset to get him to fall into your trap. Looking around you noticed Lily working on Regulus and tried not to smirk. James did indeed fall into your trap, attention snapping to you. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked.

You sighed and spoke in a low tone so the music drowned out your words to anyone else but James.

“I just want the end of the night to come sooner.” you said, still pretending to be upset.

James’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that? Are you not having fun?”

“I am,” You assured. “It’s just…” you leaned in to whisper in his ear, noticing the goosebumps spreading along his neck, “me and Lily wanna play a game with you.”

James stiffened under you. “What do you mean? What kind of game?” he asked.

You smiled at him. “One I think you’ll like.” you giggled, then kissed the spot right below his ear, just along his jaw. The spot you knew set him off. “You wanna play?” you asked, pulling back to see his reaction.

He was locked into the trap completely. His pupils were blown and there was a flush across his face and neck. You smiled, knowing you accomplished what you set out to do. Words seemed to fail him, he just nodded.

You stood and pulled him along with you, heading toward where Lily and Regulus were talking in the corner of the room. Lily was smirking, Regulus looked pissed. Looks like she accomplished her mission as well. 

You didn’t stop to talk to them, just continued pulling James along through the crowd of the party, aiming for the dorms. You did this knowing that Regulus would follow, knowing it would piss him off more. 

You reached James’s room and pushed open the door and dragged James through, keeping it open for Regulus and Lily. 

Regulus stormed into the room right up to you. You sat James down on his bed and turned to face Regulus. You put on the most innocent, angelic face you could muster.

“What is this?” he asked sternly, very close to you.

“I don’t know what you mean Reggie.” you said, honey coating your words.

He shook his head and scoffed “Not Reggie, not when I know you two are up to something.” he said, looking between you and Lily. 

Lily replied for you saying, “I told you, we have a fun game to play.” She pulled you away from Regulus’s dominant presence and into the middle of the room. “Now, sit.” she ordered. If he wasn’t pissed before, he definitely is now. He hates when anyone orders him around, but he listened and sat next to James, arms crossed and eyes shooting daggers at you and Lily.

“We have a game for you,” you said cheerily.

“Yes, you said that,” Regulus snapped. You gave him false puppy dog eyes and he seemed to relax, not meaning to snap at you.

“We will do anything you want,” Lily said walking up to James, taking his face in her hand. He nuzzled into her palm and kissed it. “All you’ve gotta do…” she dropped his face and walked back to you, “Is guess what color panties we’re wearing.” she explained at last.

James looked like he was going to combust.

“That’s your game?” Regulus scoffed.

“Should be easy, right?” you said, pushing your luck. If he did guess correctly… there would most likely be hell to pay.

His gaze darkened but he smiled, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Fine. Let's play.” he said, sending chills down your spine.

“W-wait,” James chimed in, “what if we guess wrong”

Lily again walked up to him. She bent at the waist and whispered in his ear, “Then you get nothing.”

He let out something that sounded like a whimper. His gaze following her back to her spot next to you. 

“Still wanna play?” she asked. James seemed to snap out of a daze and nodded. You could tell he was thinking back to every pair he had ever seen on you two, trying to prepare his guesses.

“Ok Jamsie, you first.” you said to him. 

He took a moment, looking Lily up and down, seeming like he was trying to activate some type of x-ray vision. He took a stuttering breath and said “Red.”

Lily shook her head. “Wrong.” She answered him.

His face fell, desperation radiation off of him.

“It’s ok baby,” you said, “You still have one more chance. You can still guess mine right.” you explained gently to him.

He took another moment before blurting out “The black ones.”

You squinted at him, “Which black ones?” you asked, goading him. You needed him to clarify.

“Uh, the ones with the little bows.” he guessed, sounding almost out of breath.

You frowned at him, shaking your head. “Oh baby, I’m sorry but wrong again.” you flicked your gaze to Regulus who was now smirking.

“Your turn.” you said sweetly.

He looked at you, then at Lily. He was still smirking as he said, “You’re not wearing any.”

Lily smiled and walked towards the winner, tuning out the whines from James about the unfairness. She just asked the victor what it is he wanted. Regulus stood from the bed and stalked over to where you stood. 

“Y/N. Knees. Now.” he said, each word clipped and laced with a tone of anger. 

You listened not wanting to anger him further, especially if he was about to be in control of restricting your breathing. Regulus was mean, and when he was using your mouth, it was best to follow his orders so that he would go easier on you. 

You waited for him to undo his belt in front of you, but he instead squatted down to your level. “I do love your mouth, but I’m going to need you to use it on Jamie, ok?” he ordered you. 

“But-” you began to protest, but Regulus was quick to cut you off by grabbing your jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to get you to shut up.

“I won your little game.” he said, no amusement in his voice. “And you said that if I won, I would get anything I wanted.” he explained, your jaw still held firmly in his grasp. “And I want you to take care of James before I have my fun with you. Got it?” he asked. You nodded the best you could, then he pushed you towards James.

You crawled between James’s legs, smiling up at him. “Hi baby,” you say, sliding your hands up his thighs. He shifted with your touch, practically begging you to give him something, anything. “You gotta help me out here.” You say, tugging on the waistband of his pants.

He wasted no time, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down along with his underwear. He only managed to shove them halfway down his thighs before giving up and pulling you by your hair closer to his red, leaking tip. 

“Please, please,” he begged breathlessly.

You took him in your hand, squeezing the base of his cock, before licking a stripe along a vein that ran the length of him. His breath shuttered and his hips bucked up into your hand. Before taking him into your mouth, you glanced over to where Lily was on her knees, doing the same to Regulus.

You did not envy her, you knew Regulus tended to hold back with you ever so slightly. But Lily? He never held back, but that is exactly how she liked it.

James whined above you, forcing your attention back on him. You licked and kissed his tip before taking it into your mouth and sucking. The noises that James let out were downright unholy. The moans and whimpers heading straight to your core.

James lost control fairly quickly, starting to buck into your mouth. He fisted your hair and used it as leverage to fuck into your mouth. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to fuck deeper, and breathed in time to his movements. If Regulus was mean, James was desperate. 

He continued his assault on your throat, until you felt another hand in your hair, yanking you back and away from James’s cock. You gasped and finally caught your breath. You looked up at the person holding your hair, neck straining from being pulled all the way back.

Regulus was looking down at you, nothing but lust in his eyes. “Bed.” he commanded.

You scrambled to your feet and climbed onto the bed, wasting no time, ready for your turn with Regulus.

James once again whined. “But, wait”.

Regulus’s attention snapped to the boy. “You lost the game.” was all he said to him before stalking up to you on the bed. Your heart was racing, you noticed your whole body felt like it was warm, too warm. Regulus took your face in his hands and kissed you gently. His lips were soft against yours, but you wanted, needed more. You threw your arms around his neck, attempting to deepen the kiss. Regulus pulled beck, looking down at you. 

“These stupid fucking games you play,” he said, tutting and shaking his head. He gripped your thighs, right under the hem of your skirt. “You were walking around that party,” he slapped the back of your right thigh, making you gasp, “in this tiny skirt,” he slapped the other, the sting making tears brim your eyes, “and nothing underneath. Did you want someone else to see?” 

You shook your head.

He slapped the back of your thigh again, “words.” he demanded.

“No,” you responded. “I-I just wanted to play the game.” you explained.

He nodded. “Ok, well now you’re going to play my game. Turn around.”

You felt your heartbeat in your throat, in your dripping core. You spun around, kneeling now on the edge of the bed, Regulus standing behind you. Your back to his chest, he was supporting some of your body weight as he kissed your neck and down your shoulder. 

You were now facing Lily leaning back against the pillows at the head of the bed, clothes completely discarded. 

“James,” came Regulus’s voice from above you. James’s attention left Lily’s tits and landed on Regulus long enough for Regulus to give him an order. “Why don’t you eat Lily out? How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Lily answered for James, pulling him into a kiss.

That is as much as you saw before you were shoved down, knees still on the edge of the bed, ass in the air. Regulus flipped your skirt up, bunching it around your waist. 

He slid a finger through your slick, circling your clit, brushing over it lightly. You gasped, hips jolting back asking for more. Regulus chuckled above you. His hand reeled back and slapped your core. You let out a squeak, jolting away this time.

“So wet,” he said above you, “why?”

You felt like you were on fire, you needed him to do something, anything, and soon. You would take anything he gave you. “Want you.” you said, becoming incoherent. 

Another slap landed right against your wet cunt. “Where are your manners, huh?” he asked, he was toying with you now, knowing that you were getting desperate for him. This was his game, you liked to tease him, and he liked teasing you back, except his form of teasing bordered on torture. 

“Please! I'm sorry, please. I want you please.” you corrected yourself, hoping that it would appease him.

It seemed to please him enough that he ran the head of his cock through your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling, trying to push yourself back onto him. He gripped your hip with one hand and lined himself up with the other. He pushed himself in, ever so slightly. The moan that you let out was borderline pornographic, finally feeling something.

That something was not nearly enough, satisfying you for a moment before you tried your luck in pushing back onto him again. No luck, his grip on your hips too firm.

He gripped your hair, pulling you back up to his chest before muttering in your ear “You’ll take what I give you.” before releasing your hair and dropping you back to the mattress.

It was you who was whining now, squirming in place, trying to get some sort of relief. 

Regulus suddenly pushed all the way in, bottoming out and loving the sounds you made. He set a relentless pace, not allowing your body time to adjust to his size. You felt the sting, the burn, the stretch. It added to the pleasure Regulus was set on giving you. 

“Fuck,” you cried out as Regulus pounded into you, seemingly taking all his aggravation out on your cervix. 

He was so incredibly deep. You could have sworn you felt him in the pit of your stomach. You gripped the sheets below you, trying to anchor yourself to something. You felt another hand in your hair, this time more gentle. You looked up to see Lily brushing hair from your face, moaning as James worked his tongue along her core.

You did envy her now, James was a god with his tongue. You turned your face to where he was connected to Lily, his tongue masterfully working her clit. He was feasting on her, his own hips rutting against the mattress, trying to chase his own high.

You moaned at the sight, taking it all in was too much, Regulus, Lily, James, it was all too much. “Reg-gie” you moaned out, voice breaking in between his thrusts, “please.”

Regulus sped up, hips snapping to yours, the noise of skin slapping mixing with wet squelching and both James and Lily’s moans making you lose control.

“Please can I cum,” you moaned, feeling your release quickly approaching. “Please Reggie,” you started begging, knowing that finishing without his permission would leave you in a worse position than you were in currently. 

He granted you permission by reaching around you and rubbing your clit with the same vigor he was fucking you. 

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, feeling every nerve in your body surge. You moaned Regulus’s name, your cunt spasming around his cock, you felt him twitch inside you, continuing his pace until he released hot ropes of his cum inside your walls. He halted, pulling out slowly.

You heard Lily reach her orgasm, looking in time to see her back arch off of the bed. James, too, reached his high cumming on the sheets just from eating Lily out. He laid there, trying to catch his breath, just like the rest of you. 

Regulus eventually stepped away to grab a wet cloth and ran it down your thighs. He reached your used cunt and you jerked away from him. “I know baby, I know. Just gotta clean you up, then you can rest,” he said gently. You laid still for him and once he was done he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You alright?” he asked.

You nodded a little fucked out. 

He pulled one of James’s shirts over your head, kissing the tip of your nose, the dominant and mean Regulus gone, melted away into the sweet and gentle Regulus again. You all piled into the bed, curled up with each other and enjoying the afterglow of your stupid game.

so this is my first time writing smut... idk if it is good but I had a vision and I needed to put it put into the universe so...

[22hemi12]

Pairing: Silco x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: It's been awhile! So here is a one shot for Silco, I will also be rewriting my fics because they are old and cringe. May make a part two if people want it!

Requests: OPEN!

Death is never forgotten, only pushed back to the edges of our minds, being from the undercity, having seen so much death both at the hands of the enforcers and by our own people, but one death seemed to rip the fabric of our crudely stitched reality in the undercity into two.

I looked up from my glass, the deep amber liquid glittering in the dim light of the bar, a place of music and friendly banter between people, I could see Vander talking to someone from behind the bar, still hard at work, the kids had run off somewhere, like usual. Here’s to hoping they don’t get into trouble, they are young so they most likely will.

Looking back down at my empty glass, a sigh exiting my body, It’s been two years since the war on the bridge, losing so many lives… and friends, I couldn’t help but gulp down the rancid drink that burnt my throat. I never used to drink alcohol, but as it’s reaching the anniversary of that day I can't help but to. I was there that day, but further down the bridge, closer back home, where Silco and Vander wanted me, helping the injured as I wasn’t much of a fighter, if only I was, maybe I'd know the truth of what happened that day.

I looked up as my empty glass was replaced with a non alcoholic drink. Vander sat opposite of me, the chair under rhim squeaking, the chairs and table old, lighting up his pipe he glanced up to me before looking down. I knew he was trying to protect me by not telling me what happened, what happened to Silco. I will admit I liked the man, he was smart, the brains to Vanders brawn, His lean yet sturdy body attractive and god his hair, much more my type.

Sighing, I looked away from Vander and back to the bar. There is a sense of melancholy despite the loud conversation and drinking, the anniversary always makes some people sad, especially those who lost people on the bridges, the amount of sad faces drowned out by those who smiled.

“What’cha thinking bout?” I heard the deep timber of Vander’s voice, but I didn't look at him, seeing the kids return with smiles and handfuls of stolen fruit as they sneak their way back to the basement.

“You know what I’m thinking about” I heard him sigh at my words. I looked back at him, he wasn't looking at me, he’s rubbing his bracer, looking at it with the most sadness I’ve seen in his eyes, the bracer is new, he didn’t have that two years ago. “Why won’t you tell me what happened? I’m not a kid for you to protect Vander” He shook his head.

“I know that, but… It'd be easier if I didn’t…” He spoke, the usual confidence leaving, he stopped rubbing the bracer and took his pipe to his mouth and took a drag, his eyes off in the distance. 

“Easier for who? You or me?” He blew out the dark coloured smoke, a tinge of pain in his face, not from smoking but my words. “What did he do to make you not want to tell me what happened?” I leaned in closer to the bigger man, I could see an emotion on his face, one I barely see, Regret. It takes me a moment before I speak again.

“What did you do?” The thought scares me, but his expression confirms my suspicion, he did something. I stood and sped walked to the exit, my chair scraping against the wooden floor, His voice chased after me, the others in the bar watched as I left. Slamming the door closed I just walked, my vision blurring with tears and mind racing with thoughts.

When my vision cleared again I was sitting on top a building overlooking the bridges and the opulent Piltover towers in the distance, my arms tightly hugging myself, I didn’t move, I glance to my right, an old blanket and pillows, a crate of stolen wine tipped over and spilled over the ground, an old rotting plate of stolen food and two chipped wine glasses. I chuckled softly, of course I came here, as teenagers we would climb the old crumbling roof to sit and watch the sunset as it had the best view of both the water sparkling and changing colour, but the way the towers glinted. All of us came up here when we were all off work, Silco, Vander, Felicia, Connol, Benzo and I. The entire group, though sometimes it would just be some of us… last time I was up here was two years ago… with Silco.

It wasn’t a date, but I definitely saw it as that, especially since Silco went out of his way to steal the expensive food and wine, the date was cut short when two enforcers who had been trailing Silco found us, explaining the tipped wine bottles as we ran, it didn’t go the way Silco wanted but we still laughed about it once we were safely in the last drop. 

I smiled at the memories, before turning to watch the sun set, the sun glimmered against the water of the River, the way it changed colour would make anyone forget that it was polluted, my racing mind was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, the click of a short heeled boots against crumbling stone, I know it isn’t Vander as the steps are far too light to be his heavy body.

“Two years since we were both on this rooftop together” That voice, it was familiar, I turned to see the very familiar, yet different figure of Silco. I look over him to see that he’s skinnier than he was two years ago, he had cut his hair short, the most surprising is the piltovian suit he is wearing. I stood and took a few steps toward him. He's so different but not at the same time.

He has yet to turn towards me fully, I can see the glimpses of scarring on the side of his face that he isn’t turning my way.

“Silco?” he smiled softly, it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it did before. He finally turned to me fully and I can finally see why he didn’t turn until now, the other side of his face was scarred and discoloured. He looked at me like he was expecting a specific type of reaction, but that expression disappeared as I rushed forward to hold his face softly. I looked over him, almost not believing he was alive and here, I couldn't help but caress his cheeks with my thumbs. 

The shocked expression changed, he obviously wasn't expecting me to be so soft as he let go of the tenseness that melted under my touch, he sighed, his eye closing he leaned in to touch his forehead to mine, moving his hands to hold my own, for a moment I just let us stay like this, but I needed to know. “What happened? Vander… he never told me” Silco opened his eye again, Locking eyes with my own.

“He didn't?” I shake my head, making him sigh again. He let go of me and turned away towards the bridge and the river. “He… tried to kill me, drown me in the river” Silco moved his hand up to touch his face, Vander tried to kill Silco? 

I stared at him, so that's what Vander did, the reason why lost on me, why would Vander do that to who he saw as his own brother? 

“So that's why he wouldn't tell me…” He wouldn't tell me that he tried to kill Silco that night, but why? What happened between the two? Why did Vander do it? I felt Silco's hands on my arms, I looked up back into his face, his eyes bore into mine with an expression I never saw two years ago. 

“Join me, unlike Vander, I will follow through on the dream… the Nation of Zaun we wanted to build…” It's a lot to take in, that despite what Vander did, Silco is still planning to work on the dream he and Vander made all those years ago. Something deep inside me felt off about the idea of joining Silco, but the rest of me… I nodded.

“Yes… I'll join you”

[simp-ly-writes]

Dressing Up for the Role

─────── · · The Professionals

Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Spy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Adler are husband and wife on paper yet you both need to appear the part. You take on the city for the elements to make your relationship appear authentic: rings, clothes, and chemistry? Well that couldn't be right... and who the hell is this "Bell" person Adler always flicks past... a continuation of this.

─ · · TAGS: no use of (y/n), non-canon compliant, flirting, use of pet names, teasing, fluff, only one bed trope at the end, Adler being a bit on an ass (but we love him for it).

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,826

─ · · A/N: I had to stop myself so many times from writing, "and then they kiss" lmao. Let me know what y'all think. Thank you for the support on the introductory part!

─────── · ·

Two days left was all you had with your new "husband," to make yourselves seem like you had been married for years. You both had rented a camera to make sure you had pictures of your "honeymoon" ready if anyone searched your bags or took a look at your wallets.

You had decided on a picture of you both in the local Park underneath the multi-coloured tree's, the other an image of Adler smoking out on the balcony while casting you a wink. Adler had yet to show you the picture he placed in his wallet and teased you every time you asked saying it was the worst picture possible so that other's wouldn't get jealous- you did not know weather to be offended or thankful.

The day would be packed full of clothes shopping, speed get-to-know one another lunch dates where more than twenty question rounds were asked to ensure that any question directed towards each other or your relationship could be answered or deflected with ease.

─────── · ·

You were in the fitting room, trying on various outfits for your trip. Needing thicker clothes for colder climate than you were about to be operating in. Adler was in a chair outside your door, a large mirrored room to see every angle of the fabric draped against your body.

Leaning back against the leather that groaned more than he did. Adler rose his pointer finger, twirling it around and watched as the fabric of your dress spun with your shoes before falling back to the floor. You smiled watching as the glasses slipped down his nose. "You look very nice but we do need clothes for six months not six weeks and we are running out of daylight."

"Well its not like these dresses have super accessible zippers or anything! Takes me a solid ten minutes to just get out of the fucking things since you waved the associate away!" you argued with a pointed finger at his chest.

Adler stood before placing a hand on your hip, reaching up and around to slowly unzip the fabric from your body as to not catch any or your skin. "No harm in asking for help, you know that?"

"Not when the help gets all preachy, Adler," you retort, "but thank you." Holding the front of your dress up you run back to the fitting room, a smile dusting against your lips as your heart fluttered in your chest.

─────── · ·

Throughout the day, you had to consistently remember that the information you were getting out of your husband was not for just your ears and the guilt only built in your gut as Adlers answers slowly went from satirical to genuine as the day progressed.

You could sense the hidden truth underneath the smiles and cigarettes he would present to you behind closed smiles and doors. Telling you about the team he had back at home and the slip of the name, "Bell," that was never mentioned again.

Looking through the database while Adler was out buying another box of cigarettes and lunch for the day, you had yet to find anything for a member under the CIA with that codename or a mission of any kind.

This point lingered at the back of your head as he told you his days during the Vietnam war and you were most surprised over your third cup of coffee that day that he had a wife before you. In actuality, you forgot just how long you both had been working in the field for that it was silly of you to think of yourself as the only one... if only a fake one.

Smiling and nodding along, Adler raised a brow at your drop in reaction to a concealed one- you hated that he could instantly pick up on your tricks and perfected charisma you thought to have mastered over the years. "Have something you want to say?"

"Nothing, just... was this "Bell" person your wife?"

Adler laughed harder than you had ever seen before yet it felt distantly hollow as you shrunk back into your chair as he leaned forwards onto the table. "No, though we wouldn't have been far off if things worked... differently."

You both let the words sit in the tension-filled air, unsure of how to continue conversation you decided to end it all together and move on to the next activity. "Ready to get married, old man?"

"Thought we already were?"

"Not without a ring on your finger, we arn't"

─────── · ·

Wedding band shopping had taken a majority of the afternoon as Adler had to keep up a pleased facade as you hung off his arm, smiling widely and rubbing up and down his arm while speaking with the consultant.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, honey," Adler commented with an overly sweet tone yet after the few hours that you had known the man. Those sweet-toned words were heavy with sarcasm, his eyes appearing dead underneath his shades that he insisted upon wearing- even indoors.

"Well, honey," you add just as if not more sweetly back, "I want to make sure we have the most authentic and delicate piece on your finger to make everyone know we're together." Adler chuckles, smiling while glaring daggers at the side of your head as you laugh with the consultant who is practically leaning over the display case to converse with you.

A sudden hand falling from your arm down to your waist is a comforting weight as your attention shifts back over. Adler pulls you back slightly to his side so that you stand up-right before leaning down and whispering in your ear, "we do plan on paying for these right? Don't need you sweetening the deal with anything with wandering eyes."

You look up at Adler, eyebrow raised in question, "and here I thought you wanted a good deal?"

"Not my money, honey. I could care less about what you spend the budget on as long as we both make it back with majority of our pieces." you nod with a shrug. "We'll take these thank you."

The consultant blinks before smiling, "yes, let me ring these up for you two." Adler had yet to take a hand off your back until you both were a block away from the store before offering you his arm.

─────── · ·

Arriving back at the hotel, you ordered room service for dinner on the balcony before going over the plan for tomorrow. You both would be boarding a commercial plane, a car waiting to take you to an empty apartment across from the venue you would be attending to gain more information on the Russians space plans. An insider under the name red-gloves had slipped the information to your agency saying that this was a cover for the missiles they were building.

There would be five people you would be on the look out for, the Space Agency Director, his wife (and mistresses attending), the directors assistant, and surprisingly enough, a USA ambassador that was supposed to have returned a year ago.

Adler nodded along to the information as you wrapped a blanket over yourself, the wind catching and picking up as a few napkins threatened to join the breeze. A sudden clicking sound had you looking over to watch as your husband lit a cigarette, offering it to you before lighting another one for himself.

You both sat there in silence overlooking the city below you before stuffing out your cigarette and closing your eyes for a moment. You knew that this would be your bit of peace before the act actually started but in this moment, life felt so natural in an odd way as you began to understand why people did this, got married, so much so that you didn't realize yourself drifting away.

─────── · ·

"Hey, hey," Adler shook your gently before snapping his fingers in your face. You had not moved, instead burrowing further into his side with a smile- he scoffed. Flicking the bud burning his fingers to the ground and pressing it out he rolled you up in the blanket before picking you up in his arms and bringing you towards the bed.

He watched as your head found the pillow, debating of weather or not to move the covers on top as well, he decided against it but before he could step away from the mattress. Your hand gripped his shirt. "Stay."

"I'm not your husband just your co-worker," Adler retorted watching as you slowly woke back up from the change in temperature.

"I know that and I also know how miserable you were complaining about your back hurting all throughout the day. Now lay the fuck down, Russell Adler and get some good rest. I need my co-worker, work-ready in the morning not a grumpy husband, right?" you said back before rolling over to the other side and flicking the lamp off, "Goodnight."

Adler stood at the side of the bed, shaking his head. He couldn't believe you spitting his words right back at him before shrugging off his shirt before crawling underneath the covers.

─────── · ·

Waking up, you were surprised to find your pillow and blanket had changed as you head rested upon Adlers chest- his arm your blanket before you were leaning over the sleeping man to slam the alarm back to sleep. "Morning, sunshine," you teased, stretching in a groggy tone, bones cracking as Russell deeply groaned. The sound going directly through your spine with a shiver watching as Adler rose, his back flexing as he stood and reached down for his shirt while turning around you got a glimpse of his stomach before it was hidden away.

"If you keep looking at me like that, you'll get sick of me before the mission even starts, wife," Adler says before turning towards the kitchenette for a cup of coffee.

Rolling your eyes and falling back underneath the covers you could hear Adler shaming you from the next room. "Don't make me pull you out of that bed. It was your idea for us to make the earliest flight, sweetheart."

"Then do it and see what happens," you commented playfully yet tone coated in a sarcastic flair. "I think you'd be into it from what you were telling me yesterday," Adler says with a laugh before walking back into the room, two mugs in hand.

You silently take a mug, glaring as you bring it up to your lips to cover your heated cheeks. Adler looks out the window, hair tousled as he stretches his neck, fingers twitching for nicotine in the morning.

You watch the way the suns rays gently cast upon the gold locks of hair wanting nothing more than to stand and feel the softness of it underneath your fingertips.

"I thought we went over the starring thing already."

"Fuck off, Adler."

"Now thats more like it."

─────── · ·

[the-liars-art]

The Night Haunter had a nightmare, similar to Leman’s vision of a “tamed” version of himself: raised on Terra, hair tied up, face smooth without distress, without the deep lines of pain night after night, or the occasional twitches or spasms. Those lips moved and he didn’t understand the syllables that flowed out.

He snapped awake from the dream, shaking violently. Crawling out of his hiding spot, his hands wouldn’t stay still. He kicked and clawed and he retched and he screamed, till he came upon a mirror in his own bedchamber. His twin hearts slowed.

He was horrified. He was disgusted by mere existence without being Night Haunter at all. Without Nostramo, its sins, and its end in a pour of molten adamantium. He clutched his own shoulders until his fingers gave out—not from exhaustion but from the excruciating hollowness that took hold. Then he lurched to his bed, which stood idle for most nights while he fell sleep in crevices of the ship hugging his scarred knees.

No lights were on but he saw perfectly fine. It was optically impossible and he failed to go deeper in that fact. Now wasn’t the time. He summoned Sevatar with the vox-caster fixed by his bedpost.

“My child,” he spoke in silver-smooth Nostraman, and left it at that. There were no tormenting visions of the future this night, but all strength has been drawn from him. He dramatically collapsed on the thick carpet.

Sevatar arrived quietly, careful with his steps since his lord had complained about the noises, but seemed to have run for quite some distance. Night Haunter let himself be taken back to bed.

They spent the rest of the evening reciting Nostraman names. Not the people who died from his claws, but ones of his own. He’d had several names like a classic horror story should. Collectively he was Night Haunter, but in some areas of the hive city he was also something else. In a particular part of the northeastern seaside, he was believed to be associated with a series of past murders hundreds of years ago. In many places in central city, children worshipped him and prayed for protection, for justice, to more than one of his names.

[gortashs-skidmark]

Fluoride (Mouthwashing x Reader)

A few excerpts from my story! Mostly parts with Jimmy because it's juicy. This is not a jimmy x reader. I do not support that shit. Three chapters out now! I hope the actual story isn't underwhelming.

𝐐𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐯: Ciggysn’milk 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝: Sensorycarrot

CW: Jiarreha :/ Mature audiences only (written for 18+)

✩

College. It didn't secure you a job, but it surely secured your right to exercise intelligence. And if you love to do anything, it's to rub salt into the self inflicted wounds of others. 

"..." You stood there, stunned. A father capable of as much didn't hesitate. It could be worse. You didn't have it bad. Not as bad as most. Should you accept and let your voice diminish under your own father's corporation, or fight and never be heard from again?

It was the illusion of choice. 

"𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

✩

Meanwhile you were stuck in your own head, a tall man in blue strode over. The heels of his cowboy boots clicked on the pavement. Each stride was one of confidence. Internally he was panicking. Curly had always been rather socially anxious. Not only that, he felt irresponsible for bringing two young adults on a four man ship. He didn't have extra cryopods prepared in case of an emergency. All he could do was breathe. 

You looked quite... busy. You were staring wide eyed at the ground breathing through your mouth. Curly hoped that wasn't your usual state. Surrounded by many many plastic bags overfilled with medical supplies. 

"ᵃʰᵐᵐ-ʰᵍᵐ" he cleared his throat. Your eyes fluttered snapping out of your panic. 

"𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲?"

"𝐎𝐡, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐞𝐭."

"𝐎𝐡. 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲."

✩

"𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝?" Curly climbed the last step of the stairs. Jimmy was at the top of it with a stack of rags in his hand. He moved out of the way for Jimmy to get through. 

"𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬." Jimmy didn't move though, a contemplative look on his face. 

"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠?"

"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝." he seemed torqued. 

"𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞?" Curly knew Jimmy could be paranoid and distrustful with anything and everyone. It was only the second day. He'd warm up to them in time, he wanted to hope. 

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞." that was weird... but not inappropriate. 

"𝐔𝐡. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭'𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬..." 

"𝐎𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥? 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭." Jimmy was underwhelmed with Curly's response to his discoveries. He wanted him to say something, give him an answer, validate his feelings.

"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨." he passed Jimmy who watched him disappear around the corner completely before heading back down to the cockpit. 

✩

"𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐚'𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩." he said, or, stated with near surprise. You took out your cheap earbuds. 

"𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭." you looked over at the sleeping body. Her mauve lips were parted slightly, her lashes kissed her cheeks softly. 

"𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞?" he crossed his arms. 

"𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝?" 

"𝐔𝐡. 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐂𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦." his white sleeves were covering both of his arms. There was no blood seeping through, that you could see. You got a nasty feeling in your gut. 

𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯, (𝘺/𝘯). your mothers words echoed in your head. 

"𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞. 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐝? 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩." You started to get up and look for your self-defense keys. 

"𝐍𝐨, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟." he stepped out of the doorway and it slunked shut. You looked at Anya's figure, which shifted lightly. Jimmy  backed himself into a corner this time. He should've recognized that you would be some kind of cock-block considering '𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳'

✩

"𝐔𝐡𝐦. 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭... 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫."

He handed you the device and you clicked it off. 

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝" you nodded and looked at the door, hoping he'd open it. Though, Jimmy stood up, backing you against the door. His fingers grazed your hips and his breath wafted in your face. He looked down at you. 

Your fingers itched. They grazed over one of his hands, passing them and taking the safety off of your taser. Jimmy's nose lightly traced down your neck. He sighed and let his finger tips wander up to your waist. At any moment, you were ready to attack Jimmy, hit the door button and bolt. You hoped he would back off, but something told you he won't.

✩

"𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚, 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒐."

[lokidjarin-7567]

Day 14: Threesome

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x You

Contents: fem!reader x Frank Castle (The Punisher x Matt Murdock , FMM threesome

W/C: 2.4k

So… it’s been a while. I’ve been super busy and I’ve had awful writers block I’m sorry guys, but istg I will get this Kinktober done if it’s the last thing I do. But I made this one nice and long and slutty to make up for it!! I love Frank and Matt and hopefully yall do too <3

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Fuck.. Frank,” you whined, eyes rolling back into your head with how far inside he was hitting you, how thick he felt.

“What is it, baby, you want me to go harder?” You whimpered in response, desperate for more but not even being able to speak, already winded from his relentless pace. “Go on, baby, let him hear you.” It dawned on you then - he could hear you. Your bedroom was adjoining the guest room where Matt was sleeping, and with his sense, there was no doubt that he could hear everything…

Oh God, he could hear everything…

You did your very best to keep quiet, even as he rubbed you clit, and somehow pressed himself further into you. You even tried to hold you breath, your pants, but even if you somehow managed that, he would still hear your heartbeat, or the filthy noises Frank was making every time his body met yours.

“Let him hear you.” He repeated, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You hear that, Red.” He spoke with a challenging tone, quiet, sure, but loud enough for Matt to hear, and the thought made you shudder, pussy fluttering around him. “I know you want her too, don’t you? It’s pretty damn obvious…” It was a taunt, blatant and outright, one that you were sure Matt wouldn’t respond to. But then you heard movement in the room next to you. Frank’s finger moved to your lips, sealing them shut with one thick fidget across your cupids bow. He burrowed himself into you, pressing deep and holding himself inside, letting you whine between closed lips. Matt’s footsteps were audible in the next room, even over the blood rushing in your head. He was pacing back and forth. Deliberating. Frank’s finger then left your mouth, trailing down your body to your clit and pressing small circles around it as his cock still filled you. You whimpered, legs shaking as he continued to keep you close to your edge.

“Reddd,” he cooed, desperately trying to goad him with that stupid nickname, “she’s close…”

Surely he wouldn’t actually join you. Of course, Frank wasn’t exactly wrong. You’d noticed the way his head cocked when you spoke, the way he stood close to you when you were working together, as though guarding you. The way he seemed almost dejected when Frank kissed you, or put his arm around you in protection.

You had noticed it most obviously today. You and Frank had finally found the ring of traffickers you had been tracing for weeks, and of course, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t far behind. It had been happening more frequently - running into each other out in the city - and the first few times, Matt and Frank had tried to out-testosterone each other, as though claiming their territory. It took a while, but eventually, you had helped them see how much better they worked together.

And today was no different. It was a matter of minutes until they were all incapacitated and the police were called, and not the corrupt ones, as Matt assured you consistently. Frank was more of a take-justice-into-your-own-hands kind of vigilante, which you didn’t mind. For the most part, you even agreed with him. ‘Dead men don’t rape’ had been your mantra since you were thirteen. But it was refreshing not always having to spill blood. Well, not as much as usual anyway.

The problem was, Matt had been badly hurt. You hadn’t even noticed until he collapsed onto the tarmac, blood gushing from his side, and a nasty welt blooming on his cheek. You were panicking quickly. He usually didn't show when he got hurt. You’d seen his entire back sliced open and he still managed to fight, but now, he could barely walk, and there was no chance he was making it all the way to his home. You begged Frank to let you bring him to your apartment and patch him up. Matt argued weakly, barely able to form coherent sentences, but Frank quickly caught on to your distress, telling him to stop moaning and that it this happening whether he liked it or not.

The three of you managed to stumble home, practically carrying Matt up the stairs to your lousy place. You settled him on the couch before grabbing the first-aid kit you had made up as soon as you and Frank had started this vigilante… thing - you weren’t even sure what to call it really.

“Sorry…” you muttered quietly, as you tried to ascertain where the blood was coming from. He winced as your fingers grazed over his side. “I can’t see where this…” You were quiet, mumbling as you tried to cover up your awkwardness. You needed to take his suit off, but even if he was bleeding, you didn’t quite feel comfortable just undressing him.

“Let me have a look.” Frank said, placing three glances of whiskey on the table. Matt had gotten your subtle hint and started to unstrap his body armour as Frank settled next to him. It turned out to be a stab wound, along with a nasty gash that stretched down his side, shallower than it initially looked though.

“This is gonna hurt, Red..” he muttered, grabbing the antiseptic and bandages. You sat of the edge of the coffee table, grabbing a wipe to clean the small wound on his face, hoping to provide distraction. As soon as Frank started, he hissed in pain, hand shooting out to your thigh and grabbing hard. You had tried your best not to noticed, but you couldn’t help but glanced down at his bare torso as you continued to carefully blot at the cut on his cheek, watching the way his muscles flexed in pain, and the rise and fall of his chest with each steading breath he took. You blushed lightly as you continued to work, but you could feel Frank glancing at you.

He wasn’t insecure in the slightest. And your relationship was very much an open one - with your histories and professions, it would be stupid not to be. But he had never seen it in real life: the look you usually gave him being aimed towards somebody else.

And now you were here, under his strong body, trying not to climax too early and listening intently for the slightest hint that Matt was going to respond to his taunt.

And then he did. You could hear footsteps quickening, then pausing right outside the door, a soft curse muttered under his breath. You whimpered in disappointment, frustration building as Frank fucked into you hard and his fingers moved faster against your aching core.

“Fuck, Matt, are you coming in or not?” You whined it quietly, cautiously. Just loud enough that he could hear, but just quiet enough that you all had plausible deniability if he changed his mind. Luckily for you, he hadn’t.

The door flew open and he strode to you urgently, pressing his lips against yours with fervor. The first taste of him was overwhelming—something you'd wanted for so long, finally happening, and it was better than you could have hoped. You could only imagine how he felt in that moment, his groan of relief and passion falling into your mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, fingertips running through the soft locks. His hand cupped your chin then traced lower, forming a delicate cage around your neck, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the sensitive skin there. You whined against his lips, your hips bucking into Frank uncontrollably. He had been watching the two of you with a dark look on his face, buried to the hilt inside you. It suited him. He was possessive but not jealous, protective but not obsessive—a perfect middle ground that he thrived in.

His thrusts deepened, and you let out a yelp at the sudden increase of pressure. Matt smiled. His fingers moved from your neck, trailing down your collarbone and lower until he was circling your nipple. He barely touched you, light as air, yet the sensation was dizzying. He started to increase the pressure until he was ready, and then he pinched, just hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your head. Paired with the way Frank was fucking you, his thumb still circling your clit, it wasn't long before you were coming undone. White hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses, muscles locking and shaking under their expert touches. You tried to moan, the guttural sound escaping you, but Matt’s mouth swallowed it.

“That’s it baby…” Frank crooned, still fucking you through it. “Atta girl.”

It was a while before you could breath again, body still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you barely had time to recover before you were being moved. You just about registered when your body hit Frank’s solid form, his arms wrapping around you as he tried to manhandle you into position, whispering sweet instructions in your ear.

“You’ve got another round in you, don’t you gorgeous? That’s it, good girl, on your hands and knees for us… give Red a chance to feel that pretty pussy of yours.” You were exhausted, totally fucked out, but when you felt Matt’s hands slide up the back of your thighs, onto your back and hips, as though trying to commit the very shape of you to his memory, you could feel yourself getting wet again. You nodded, smiling up at Frank through half lidded eyes and settling into position, arching your back for the gorgeous man behind you. You glanced back to see him, now stripped naked, his arms flexing as he gripped your hips tight, a low groan escaping his lips. A hand fell to your chin, pulling your attention back to the man in front of you, thumb smearing across your lips then into your mouth. Reminding you who you belonged to. After all the flirting, the teasing, the fucking… you were his. However non-committal you were, however far away you were, whoever you were with, deep down you knew, you would always fall back into his arms.

A knowing smile flashed across his face. He knew it. As you knelt there, his thumb in your hot mouth, your back arched for another man but your eyes on him, he knew he had you.

And that was why he let Matt sink into you. You moaned around Frank’s thumb as he slowly pressed himself deep, feeling every inch of him as he controlled the pace with his fingers biting into your hips. You tried to buck backwards, to make him speed up, to just fuck you already, but he wouldn't let you, his strength keeping you exactly where he wanted you. When his hips finally met your ass, he let out a low growl, pressing his body to the back of yours, and Frank finally freed your mouth, allowing Matt to gather your hair in his hand and twist your head back to kiss you hungrily. His lips left yours, and you whined, but then the hand in your hair started guiding you down towards Frank’s waiting cock, thick and hard and leaking precum and you realised it had been his hand all along. Frank’s. You shouldn't be surprised. You knew he was always in control, and sex was no different.

As your ready mouth sank down onto his erection, he wasted no time bottoming out, pressing into your throat and letting you gag around him just as Matt started to move, dragging out of you with aching patience, then rutting back in. It only took a few thrusts before he was losing control, and his pace quickened, whines and pants and curses falling from his lips as his hips slapped against you. When Frank finally pulled you off him, you were gasping, but he didn't let you have much of a breather, just enough to ease the burning in your lungs a tiny bit. Tears were pricking in your eyes, but he soothed you with praises and pet names, and you knew you could take it. You would take anything he gave you. He pulled you off again, but this time, not enough to take even a full breath before he pressed himself completely into your throat. You had never taken so much before, nose pressing against the very base of him, and you could taste yourself on him, a realisation that made your cunt flutter around Matt, earning a groan. You swallowed around him, eager to please, and it was enough. He stuttered your name, pressing you just a touch deeper, before he came down your throat, and you swallowed quickly, not wanting to waste a single drop.

He finally released you when he was completely spent, letting your head fall to the bed as you desperately caught your breath. You couldn't relax for long though, as Frank scooped you up once more, shuffling forward as your body was flush with his, head lulling over his shoulder. This position meant Matt was fucking up into you, hitting a spot that made you whimper in pure ecstasy, so good you could do nothing but dig your nails into Frank’s back. He growled, hand trailing down your body to find your clit and gently circle, pressure so light you shouldn’t have felt a thing, but you were already so overstimulated, so pent up, and with the way Matt was reaching that perfect place, you were so close.

“There you go pretty girl… that's it baby come on his cock for me…” Frank’s words were the last thing you needed to push you over the edge and you cried out, pleasure so good it was almost painful, whole body squirming in his arms. Matt’s hips stuttered, and he bit down onto your shoulder to suppress his moan as he came inside you, hands still firmly gripping your hips and grinding into you.

Your mind was hazy when you were finally finished, completely melted in Frank’s arms, Matt’s cock still inside you.

“This isn't going to become a habit now, pretty boy. Don't get it twisted. It was only because you got stabbed.” Matt just chuckled, his body collapsing into yours and you felt his cheek against your shoulder, hot breath fanning across your upper arm.

“It was worth it.”

[zombieskullxz]

She's Evil, Most Definitely

Ghost stood in his room, staring at the wall. he hates to admit it but he's missing your touch, your balance of the bed and the constant nightmares. as nice as it was being home, the guilt he felt about double crossing you was eating away at him. he was told to stay away from the cells where they were keeping you, price told him it was for his own good but all it did was make him feel like shit. so, against his captain's orders, here he was, walking down the stairs and across the hallways of rowdy men and women shouting and cursing. until, at the end, he stood in front of your small accommodation. you sat there in the chair that you managed to drag into the middle of the room, hair sprawled out as you lean forward head down. the sound of footsteps stooping causes you to raise your head slowly, smirking.

it wasn't the beauty that caught simons eye the day he went undercover as a rogue member of a made up force. he'd seen plenty of pretty women in his time. it wasn't the sense of danger either. it was your eyes, constant pools of secrets and knowledge that made you seem like this higher being. he knew you were brilliant, your mind surpassed most in the team with your expertise in weapons and latest technology. you had kept up with his sarcasm and dark humour and he had kept up with your ideas and darkness. when he took you into his bed, this game started as a way to feel comfort and company turned into a spill of truths. he saw the side to you that aspired for change, a better ending. he knew you had your own agenda, that's why he felt you could be an asset for intel and support. he didn't expect to regret the choice after seeing you taken away, even though he knew what the outcome would be.

right now that soft side was gone, nowhere to be seen. that part of you that tore people's souls with your gaze was attempting to do the same to simon. it wasn't hard considering his layers had slowly dissolved around you. all you had to do was ask him and he knew there would be a high chance he'd give you anything.

"come to gloat?" you finally spoke up. simon allowed his body to relax onto the wall next to him. "just checking in on your willingness to provide information". you scoff, reading him like your favorite book. he gulped, louder than he expected which only increased your amusement. your head tilts as you study him. "c'mon lieutenant, we both know there's more to the story, let's play a game hm? I'll show you mine if you show me yours" you lay the card on the table and ghost tenses. he weighs up the pros and cons of lowering his guard even further. eventually he grabs a stool and sits down.

"alright, i'll start, where's your brother headin'?"

you look at him with a satisfied smirk, dragging your chair closer to the bars separating you both. "we have about 5 safehouses in a 10 mile radius from the base you infiltrated. hes low on weapons so that's what he'll look for first. there's an old warehouse 6 miles south from where we were. looks like a nuclear evacuation site left to rot. it's completely safe" you reveal all watching ghosts eyebrows furrow as he processes the information. you lean forward until your face is inches from the bar, "my turn, how many people have actually seen your face?" you stare, as if waiting for your eyes to turn into x rays that allow you to see under that layer of the ghost you had yet to peel off. he looks at you, leaning back slightly at the question, like hes worried you'd rip off the mask somehow from behind the bars. "more than enough" he grunts, although the truth is, from the beginning of the ghost, the only people still alive granted with the sight of his face was his brother and price. you shake your head and lean back. ghost crossed his arms and relaxes slightly at your accepting glance. "what does he have planned? what's the emergency process?", you hesitate at his question, one of the rare moments your cocky attitude falters. "everyone is set their own tasks, some are sent to our allies to provide friendly reminders we are still trustworthy and reliable, some look for assets to replace damages and losses, others are working on the revenge plan. you know your role as soon as the process is triggered. the inner circle knows, whether there's an emergency or not." you explain, ghost can tell there's something you're hiding and leans forward. "what's your role then?" he presses. your face returns to its usual smirk, "that's two questions" you stand up and walk over to the makeshift, barred window, "ill help you find him and the rest of 'em, ill even help you deal with a few other underground forces, but i need something in return-" ghost stands up as well, interrupting you "they wont give you immunity", you smile and turn to face him, "i don't want immunity anymore, i've had better idea..." your met with ghosts raised eyebrow so you walk towards the bars and lean against them, " i think we make a good team and this predicament raises an opportunity....i wanna be brought on as an informant, an asset. let me work with you and i'll provide the holy book of intel. all you have to do is let me do things my way"

yeah ghost forgot one thing to mention about you,

dog shit mad

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Pull Of You - Part 7

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Soulmates - Feeling the pull between each other indicates a bond. A kiss confirms it.

Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's t-shirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.

Chapter Summary: It's been 48 hours and the cracks are starting to show.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of injuries and being held captive.

“Look I know you don’t want me to say it but I think we should head back to the compound and regroup.” Rhodey advised cautiously.

It was at that moment that Bucky lost it. He’d done his court mandated therapy and he’d committed weekly sessions ever since. The elders in Wakanda had taught various relaxation techniques. He’d been keeping his emotions in check or so he thought. With you gone they had bubbled to the surface and now spilled over into what Sam had nicknamed the murder strut and he was headed in Rhodey’s direction. Clint and Pietro blocked his path.

“Move.” He growled.

“Not happening.” Clint replied.

“Move or I’ll move you.”

“Touch him and I’ll put a bullet in your head.” Snapped Natasha.

“Yeah, well I’ll spit it out.”

“Why didn’t you have her six?”

“Watch your damn mouth Romanoff!” Steve snapped “You know damn well how he feels about her! You saw her body cam footage. He went to her. She pushed him away.”

“And here we are. My best friend gone!”

“Rhodey might have a point. It’s been over twenty-four hours, nearly forty-eight. We’re going round in circles here. We’re the best there is. We haven’t missed anything. There are no leads, even within two miles of here. We already know they’ve removed her trackers and ditched her camera. We need to discuss other options, maybe call in some help.”

“We don’t need help.” Steve snapped “We, we need, we need.”

Steve stuttered over his words, a lump forming in his throat and tears in his eyes. Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he turned towards Steve pulling him in for a fierce hug.

Vision and Wanda stood quietly watching the back and forth between the team.

“I can feel their pain. All of them, as well as my own. This could tear us apart again.” Wanda whispered to her soulmate. She glanced up at vision to see his head tilt slightly.

“Vis? What is it?”

“I have a theory.”

Meanwhile………..

Pain is the first thing you’re aware of. Everything hurts. Your head probably hurts the most. You can’t open your eyes. You try but realise your eyelids are being held down. A weighted eye mask or tape perhaps?

A wave of panic spread over you and you soon knew that the breathing that came with panicking was not a good idea. A shooting pain went up your side. Broken ribs.

For fucks sake, you thought to yourself. You decided to get your shit together and allowed your training to takeover.

Smell. Damp. Musty. Sound. Tripping. Water. Voices and a radio but far away. Sight. Stuck. Feel. Pain. Body check. Toes not broke. Ankles. Damaged sprain or low level breaks. Also bound to each and whatever I’m on. Legs bruised. Broken cocsic. Ribs broken. One shoulder dislocated. Arms bruised. Left possibly broken. Hands. Bruised and bound. Right possibly broken. Fingers. Two on left hand broken. Neck pain. Eyes still stuck. Head injury. Possible concussion.

You sighed. Fuck my life.

You tried to separate your ankles but met resistance. The same came again with your wrists. You tried to lean forward but couldn’t move. You’d been tied repeatedly. Excessively and well too. You’d extracted agents that had been captured before and, although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you’d been tied up more than they had. Clearly your reputation proceeded you. You could get in and out of anywhere and you taught others how to do the same.

Being good at breaking and entering, you’d become an escape expert in various ways and you could also slip out of knots, cuffs and traps but that wasn't common knowledge, and yet here you were.

How did they know to tie you up so well? Think.

They knew your skill set. They knew you. Realisation washed over you. They KNEW you.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@mcira @imdoingbetternow @mrsevans90 @blackhawkfanatic

[braceletofteeth]

You have quite a good memory.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹

prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader

✧ synopsis: you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?

✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap

✧ wc: 4.7k

✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna

Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.

Sukuna.

That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.

Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.

How long had it been since they’d seen one after all.

“Hey Doc… you sure you wanna take this case.. i mean, i don’t doubt ya or anything but this one.. he’s bad. Dangerous.”

“Now what kind of doctor would i be if i feared a little danger. He’s still a patient.” You smiled, ignoring the way your hairs stood as you were led deeper into the institution. The part where they held those deemed a danger to society.

Those who had a no chance of even seeing sunlight again.

You were nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest when you scanned your surroundings. There weren’t any cells. There were only.. rooms. Fully enclosed rooms with a singular window for passing food.

Every part of your being begged for you to turn around and run. To not even interact with whoever sat on the other side of that door. And you froze when bright red eyes pierced into yours. The rest of his face casted behind a dark shadow as his head tilted back. Giving you sight to the small smirk creeping onto his features.

“Doc, i really think that-” It was the other guard who spoke up. Both of them holding nothing on their features but fear. It was clear that they never even bothered with Sukuna. The rumors had been enough to make every guard turn a blind eye.

“Hey, it’s fine. Okay? This is what i do.” It really was. The guard gave you a curt nod and a sigh when you clasped both his hands in your smaller one. Offering him a reassuring nod.

“If anything happens, us and about five others are stationed close. Good luck Doc.”

You gave him a small thanks, your head held high as the door was pulled open roughly. Revealing a pink haired man who sat on his bed against the walls, his eyebrow raising when you dared to step inside. Nodding to the guard to close the door.

You might as well have been a dead woman.

“You’re scared.” His deep voice rung out, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled out a small chair that was tucked away near the sink.

“And how do you know, Sukuna?” Your tone was steady, letting out a breath when the shakiness you felt wasn’t reflected in your voice.

Sukuna hummed, his smirk widening when you spoke to him like a normal being. To stuttering, no harshness. Just your sweet voice saying his name. “I can smell it, Doc.” He loved the way you tried to hide your squirm under his gaze.

“So, Sukuna. Tell me something about yourself.” You steered away from his accusation, holding eye contact even when he leaned forward. Taking you in from head to toe. You were hot, he liked that. You seemed to like being confident too. And God did you smell fucking delicious.

He wanted to eat you alive.

Break you.

Use you.

He really did. But you were so fascinating, and he’d only just met you. Who knew how entertaining you could be.

“I’ve killed people.” He was blunt, eyes almost begging you to keep asking these ridiculous questions. It was making his cock twitch.

“Well Sukuna, that is common knowledge, don’t ya think? I wanna know something else.. tell me a secret hmm?” You leaned forward with a smile, elbows rested on your knees as you looked to him for a response.

He reciprocated your actions, leaning forward until you felt his hot breath fan over your face. “A secret huh? Alright Doc..” he watched as your breathing sped up, using every strength in your body to not pull back. You were brave, he liked that. “I surprisingly don’t wanna kill you right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said right now, didn’t say anything about later.” He pushed away from you, one of his knees up to his chest when he leaned back against the concrete wall behind him. “Let me ask you, Doctor. Are you stupid?”

Your head tilted at where this was going. You were supposed to be the one asking the questions. But a conversation was two sided, this would’ve made things easier. “I’d like to believe not. Why do you ask?”

“Because you really think that if i try to kill you, some measly guards would come to your rescue.” He scoffed.

“But you don’t want to kill me. That’s all that matters.”

Fair.

Sukuna watched as you took a quick peek down at his files. There was something that you missed, that much was evident. “Finally found it huh?”

“I haven’t found anything that i didn’t see before.” You objected, glancing to the door with your lip hanging loosely between your teeth.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He demanded lowly, watching with lidded eyes as you let your plump bottom lip, slick after running your tongue over it, fall back into place. Sukuna breathed deeply, finally looking away from you as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes with his head rested behind him.

There was something about you that he wanted a taste of. It was driving him crazy..er, “I never did anything to these other doctors. They were just weak. Got scared way too fast.”

“And what did you do to scare them away?”

“Nothing.” He spat, “They came in here acting all high and mighty, talked to me like i was beneath them. So i simply didn’t bother to hide how much i wanted to strangle them. And somehow that makes me the bad guy right Doc?”

You shook your head, “No, you have a right to respect too. They should never have treated you as unequals.” Lying was all in the job description.

“Good try Doc. But you and i both know that’s a load of crap.” He finally peeled his eyes back open, and you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to how attractive he was in the dim light. He was extremely built, and had the facial structure that made you clench your thighs. “Now, we gonna finish our game of twenty one questions or not?”

He was actually being cooperative.

“Yes we are. How about i start?”

“I’ll start.” There was no room for objection in his tone. “What’s your name?”

You contemplated whether to tell him or not, eventually letting it out with ease. Though you missed the small smile tugging at his lips when he muttered a small “cute.”

“My turn, what was your childhood like?” You watched his face grow cold, a small glare being directed at anything in the room but you. “Next question.”

“Sukuna..”

“I said next question. How old are you?”

You sighed, “I’m twenty eight.” His eyes widened, that was extremely young for a doctor. “Is there one good memory you have from before you killed for the first time?”

“I had twin kittens. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You were taken aback by the question, mouth opening and closing a few times before you chuckled. “No. I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.”

You jumped when the door was yanked open, the guard eyeing Sukuna warily before nodded to you. “Your time’s up, Doc.”

“Oh, already? Could we get just a few more minutes?”

“You know how dangerous he is Doc.. we can’t risk it.”

“You heard the man. I’m dangerous, Doctor.”

You nibbled at your lips softly, and Sukuna fought a groan as you did exactly what he warned you not to. Standing up, you gave Sukuna a warm smile, the gesture making his stomach get all weird inside. “Goodbye until our next session Sukuna.”

He only hummed, the door being shut behind you as you were led away.

It was back to darkness.

There was more than enough light, sure. But it suddenly felt so empty without you there.

—

You couldn’t keep Sukuna off your mind when you arrived home. A part of you just really wanted to figure him out. The other actually liked his company.

You must’ve been so sick in the head. Splashing your face with cold water as you mentally scolded yourself. What was wrong with you? He was a criminal.

—

The next morning you walked the path that you had taken the previous day to get to Sukuna. This time without the guards following you.

There was only one who stood outside of the door to let you in with a small nod of acknowledgement.

Sukuna’s head perked up at the familiar clicking of those heels you wore. His signature smirk on his face as he stared you down. “Just couldn’t get enough huh Doc? Aren’t you forgetting that i’m dangerous?”

You took a seat, no file in had this time. “Good morning Sukuna, how are you?”

“If i said better now that you’re here, would that be cliché?”

You laughed, an actual laugh. A sweet one that made his heart flutter the tiniest bit while blood rushed to his groin.

“It’s very good to see you too. How about we get started yeah?” You paused as you collected your thoughts. “You seem to be heavily affected by people calling you.. dangerous. Why?”

“Everybody is dangerous. It just takes pushing at the right buttons to get it out of them. Half of the people here have done just as bad as i have yet i’m the only dangerous one. Makes so much sense right?.”

He shook his head. “Tell me Doctor, do you really think i just happened to get caught? That i couldn’t get out of this damn place if i wanted too? Hell, tell me you realize that i could drop a good twenty more bodies right here, right now.”

You shifted in your seat. “I think that you let yourself get caught because you’re tired. Because there’s a small sense of peace you get from being in here. And i think that you aren’t trying to leave because you don’t want to.”

“You almost had it Doc. See, i was well on my way out until you came. So i might stick around for just a little bit longer.”

Your heart fluttered, for you? Giving up on fighting the rational side of you as you continued to engage in conversation. Getting Sukuna to slowly open up to you more.

“Do you have any friends Sukuna?”

“I don’t consider people friends. They just exist alongside me.”

“If I asked you to be your friend, what would you say?” It was routine, but you really were curious.

“I’d say you came be whatever you want to be Doc.”

Another flutter.

“Have you ever been in love Sukuna?”

He was silent, jaw clenching as his gaze got harsh. “Next question.”

“What was she like?”

“I said next fucking question Doctor.”

“And i said, what was she like?” You leaned forward, pressing for him to answer the question.

“You’re stubborn aren’t you? I wonder what my hand would loom like around that pretty little neck.” He grinned, sharp teeth peeling from beneath his lips as he brought his face to yours. “She was a lot like you.”

“What happened to her?” You knew how touchy that question would’ve been.

“Nothing. The bitch left.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in confusion, “I never said she died.”

“Yes. But that’s only physically. When she broke your heart she died to you. And that hurts just as bad.”

He was silent, studying your eyes. Trying to get a read on you. “What else do you want to know Doc?”

You were getting somewhere.

Sukuna found you smart. Thought that you knew a lot. Found it hot how good you were at cracking him. But it pissed him off that the one thing you didn’t seem to pick up was how much it hurt to watch you leave at the end of each session.

—

A week later had led to a Monday morning where you hadn’t gone to the prison. You had quite an agenda for the day that could cost you your job if you didn’t get it done.

That was something Sukuna was obviously clueless about. It was why he thought you’d just decided to up and go after he had just started liking to have you around. After he’d started opening up to you.

It was also why he was causing a fit. Yelling at guards to get you to him now. That he wanted to see you. Needed to see you. A line of men laying knocked out atop each other from being sent to ‘handle’ the crazed prisoner.

Would you really not come back? Would you really abandon him? It seemed like that was common with the people he cared even the slightest for.

Sukuna’s fist met the wall near his bed, knuckles bloodied as he cracked into the hard surface. Chest heaving up and down heavily when his hands reached to tug at strands of pink.

He blinked when he heard the clicking of heels on the tiles. Immediately scowling at the unfamiliarity of them. “Who the fuck is this?” He growled through the small window.

“This is Dr Smith, she’s-”

“I don’t fucking care who she is. Bring me my doctor. Now.”

—

Back at your flat, you dropped the piles of paper in front of you at the sound of your phone ringing.

It was a number you didn’t have saved.

“Hello, Doctor ___ speaking- yes? Oh my. I- i am so sorry. Yes, i will be there right away.”

What had you done?

You practically ran through the halls after parking outside the building. Finding many guards posted outside his door with guns in hand. Some of them spotting very black and blue eyes.

“You can all go now.” You panted, it was clear that you had been in a hurry. “Please.”

They all shared a look, finally walking away and allowing you to slowly open the door.

“Where were you?”

“I’m really sorry Sukuna. I was so busy today and-” you gasped when a hand reached out to wrap around your neck. Slamming you into the wall behind you with his face buried in your neck.

Sukuna inhaled your floral scent, groaning to himself as his grip on your delicate skin tightened. “So you just left me here today? Am i not as important as your other little patients? Is that it hmm?”

Deep down, you had hurt his feelings. And he couldn’t help the way he clung to you as your hand lifted to his cheek. Turning his face to look down at yours.

“N-no i promise you. You’re just as important as anyone else. I would have never missed our session if i didn’t have to.”

“Make it up to me.”

It was the perfect opportunity.

“W-what?”

“Strip for me Doctor.” He let go of your neck, letting you catch your breath while looking up at him timidly.

“Sukuna..”

“Why so shy now doctor? We both know you want to.”

You shook your head, shrinking under his gaze with a protesting whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sukuna. This is very unprofession— ahh.”

Sukuna brought his knee up between your thighs, pressing it into your clothed clit. His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin as he breathed deeply. “You can always leave if you want to. I’m used to that after all.”

You shifted on your feet when your back arched. A small whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away from you and gestured to the door.

He smirked, “Blouse first.”

You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was on display. The heavy swell of your breasts causing Sukuna’s mouth to water when he nodded to the bra.

With your eyes still on his you let your breasts spring out of their confinement. Two pert nipples pointing right at him as his dick rose. His hand palming himself under the pair of black pants with a shiver. “C’mere.”

You walked over to him on shaky legs. Sitting down on his lap with your head to the floor. “Uh uh,” His hand reached under the your chin to force your eyes back on his. “None of that Doc.”

You moaned when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples. Sucking your breast into his mouth while he palmed at the other. “These are even more perfect outside that tight fucking shit of yours.”

Sukuna watched as you shivered when he ran his finger down your belly. Cupping your clothed cunt with the jerk of his hips into your ass. “Fuck.. take that off.”

You hurriedly peeled off your pants, Sukuna’s pupils dilating at the sight of your lace panties. “Wore this just f’me hmm Doc? All this for Mr Dangerous.” He groaned out.

Sukuan didn’t give you a chance to respond before flipping you onto the hard mattress they called a bed. Lifting your heel clad feet onto his shoulders with his head hovering over your pussy. His tongue darting out to lick at the wet spot building from your arousal. “You’re real dirty f’ a doctor.” He teased, glancing behind him with a chuckle. “Imagine if you got caught.”

Your eyes shot up to the small window, taking note of the vacant corridor as per your request.

“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna devour that pretty pussy.” He breathed, large hand ripping the flimsy fabric to expose your glistening folds. “Hmm, this wet all for me.”

You mewled when his long tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Swirling around your clit before sloppily dipping into your hole. His hums sending vibrations through your clit as he lapped at your dripping slick.

“Sukuna—” you mewled, back arching as you reached for his hair. Tugging softly with the curl of your toes when his tongue and fingers swapped places. The two joints fucking up roughly into your g spot as he sucked noisily at your clit. “F-fuckk, nngh— so good.” You cried out, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as your body filled with pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that Doc? Bet you wanna get that greedy cunt stuffed right after.” He grunted, your eyes rolling back in a string of muffled moans as your other hand shot up to your lips.

Your legs began to tremble, Sukuna’s smirk growing wider and wider until he stopped his movements. Watching as you blinked down at him with a sniffled whine.

“You left me. You know how much that fucking hurt? I thought i would never see you again.”

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry. Yeah, yeah.. i know.” He rolled his eyes, crawling over your body with a sigh. Using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before pressing his lips to yours. Making you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fell deeper into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction as his lips moves hungrily on yours. Pulling away with a string of salvia connected you to him.

“Let’s reverse the roles yeah?” He whispered, standing up to sit in the chair that you usually sat in. “So, my adorable little patient.. put these tiny fingers to work on that clit of yours. I want you to make yourself cum.”

You whimpered, your fingers immediately meeting your sensitive clit with a shiver.

“You know what to do.” He encouraged. Your fingers beginning to rub small circles on the small bud before speeding up. Little gasps and moans falling past your lips as your stomach burned with heat.

Your eyes locking onto Sukuna’s red ones as his head tilted. Just like it had the first day you met him. “Ahh, K-kuna. Fuckk.” You cried, head falling back with your eyes still on his. The primal look in his eyes making your insides flutter as he did nothing but watch you. Not even freeing his painfully hard cock.

“Sukuna— c-can’t. Can’t hold it.” Your voice cracked, body shaking lightly as your orgasm washed over you.

“Yes you can.”

“Nngh, can’t Kuna. Need to let go.”

He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, your breathing getting heavy as you desperately waited on his permission.

He leaned his head back, eyes boring into your fingers working your wet cunt before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You came with a silent moan, body spasming uncontrollably as your pussy leaked onto his only pair of sheets.

“Dirty, dirty girl. Look at that mess.” You shied away feom his gaze. “And look at how hard you made me. Come fix it.”

You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels as you fell to your knees before him. Looking up at him through your lashes while pulling down his pants.

You blinked at the mere size of his bulge. He was huge. Tugging off his underwear to reveal his thick, veiny length. Pointing up to the sky with a fiery red tip. “Suck.”

You took him past your lips, barely able to take even half of him before he hit the back of your throat. Your fist stroking all the parts of him you couldn’t take.

Sukuna groaned, head flinging back with another strained one at how good your mouth felt. “S-shit doc. You really got a mouth on ya.” He gasped, eyes meeting yours as you attempted to take him down your throat. Your drool coating both your lips and his cock as you lewdly sucked him off.

He took your head into his hold, letting you do your own thing as he grunted with each jerk of his hips. Defined abs tensing when he grew closer to his release.

“Fuck Doc, gon’ shoot my cum down that tight throat of yours.” He breathed. Holding you down onto him as you gagged and sputtered lightly, Sukuna’s cock twitching before you felt the warm liquid run down your throat.

“Wish i could fuck that pussy so bad.” He let go of your head, wiping a drop of his cum from your chin before pushing his finger past your lips. Watching as you sighed in content while sucking every last drop. “It’s too bad that in about one minute those guards are gonna come get you Doc. Our session is over.”

You had no time to question how he knew. Scurrying to redress with widened eyes.

Sukuna may not have had a clock. Nor was he able to distinctly see the sun rise and set. But he’d learned to count the seconds when you were around. He knew how much time he had with you.

“And… now.”

At that very moment the door swung open. Sukuna having easily pulled back up his pants after giving you your seat back. Both of you looking as professional as you possibly could.

“See you tomorrow Doc.” He smiled innocently, watching as you scrambled out while avoiding his eyes.

You really fucked up now.

It was hard to keep him out of your mind before. But now, trying was futile. You’d gotten a taste and you needed more. Which was why your brain would not let you close your eyes without thinking of him fucking you.

—

The next morning you bit back a whimper as your clit was caught between your rubbing thighs. You had worn a tight pencil skirt with no panties. Just for Sukuna.

You were thankful that the guards had complied to your wishes of them leaving.

You wanted to stop yourself. To go back home and forget about the red eyed prisoner. He may not have been dangerous to you physically. But to your heart and mind.. he’d be the death of you.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself bring pushed roughly into the same wall as last time. Sukuna letting out an animalistic groan as he captured your lips on his. Kissing you so much more feverishly than yesterday.

“You don’t know how much i need you. Didn’t even sleep last night.” He panted, turning you around so that your chest rested against the concrete surface. “Missed you so much Doc.” His voice softened, kissing down your neck while grinding up into you. His fingers finding their way under your skirt with a smirk against your skin. “And i thought you couldn’t get any dirtier.. no panties huh?”

You moaned when he prodded at your already dripping cunt. The thought of him being enough to have gotten you soaked. “Shit- tell me what you want Doc. Let me hear you say it.” He growled lowly, ready to snap the second the words left your mouth.

“Please— please fuck me.”

Sukuna hungrily shoved your skirt up. The fabric bunching at your hips as he freed his aching cock. Both of you letting out a noise of satisfaction when he sunk into you, his large hands holding tightly onto your hips to pull you into him. Your back arching as your hands shot out to the wall for support.

“O-ohh God.” You cried loudly, your lips parted in shaky moans as Sukuna’s cock rammed deep near the entrance of your cervix. His veins grazing at your g spot as the fat girth stretched you to your limit.

“Nah baby, ‘s only me.”

“Kunaa— so goood- ahhh.” Tears pooled in your eyes, Sukuna’s hand reaching into your hair to pull you back into his chest. Your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as he destroyed yours.

“Taking me so fucking well. Shit- pussy’s so damn snug.” He husked, hips snapping noisily into yours as he fucked into your walls mercilessly. Basking in the sounds of your choked screams and mewls. The way you sobbed underneath him when your knees buckled.

He was fucking you so hard and deep. Better than anything you’d felt before. His cock slamming into all the places that would drive you crazy.

“The day you fucking leave me i will break outta here Doc. And i will find you. You’re mine got it?” There was a certain seriousness in his voice that made goosebumps arise on your skin. Your salty tears mixing with your drool as they ran down your flushed face.

“And when i do get outta here you’re gonna have my baby Doc. ‘M gonna fuck you again and again till’ i eventually give you my fuck—ing kid.” His breathing became ragged, your body rocking forward with each of his movements.

He smirked. “I’ve fucked ya this dumb already?” His cock twitching inside you as your body moved with his cock like a fleshlight. Your vision blurred as your head grew light, dizzy. You couldn’t think, every roll of Sukuna’s hips clouding your mind as you let an incoherent babble drip off your tongue. Shakily chanting his name when he reached forward to pinch at your clit.

“Look at you. Look so pretty underneath me like this.” His free hand snaked up to your neck, groaning loudly at the feeling of your heart beat on his skin. Pulling you up so your back rested flat against his broad chest, wandering lips meeting your exposed collarbone. “Let go f’me.”

Your body quivered as you tightened around him. Letting out a whimper-like cry as you came messily on his cock. A breathy moan of his own sounding in your ear when his thrusts began to get sloppy.

“Kunaaa.. inside. Want you inside. ‘M on the pill.” You begged, legs giving way as he held you flush against him.

“Whatever you want, Doc.” Slowly coming to a halt as he buried himself inside your warmth, tongue darting out to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Feeling his cock swell as he pumped you full of his cum. Painted your gummy walls in nothing but white

“Looks like i’m sending you back with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He pulled out with a grin. His cum leaking out of your fluttering cunt in small spurts when he used his hands to knead at the flesh of your ass. “Hottest thing i’ve seen in a while.. after you of course.”

You hummed, eyes shutting as you fell into him. Feeling the thick substance slowly dripping down your legs while spreading over your sticky folds. Sukuna stumbled back onto his bed with you on top of him. Your face nestling into his chest with a soft smile. “Hey Doc.. i love ya but those guards are gon’ be back soon.”

‘So worth it.’ Was the one thought branding itself into your mind as your body registered the rough, lust filled fuck.

“Shit.”

—

You and Sukuna had gotten so much closer over yet another week. You had never believed in falling in love that quickly until now. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much better when he was around. Seeing him was the highlight of your day- especially now that you’d convinced for longer sessions.

He felt the same way. You were the second person he had fallen in love with and somehow even harder. You made his heart.. swell. And he was serious about busting out to start a life with you.

“So, your first love. We never finished talking about her.” You smirked, notepad back in hand as you did your job. Sukuna having been stealing small kisses from you between every question.

“How about we forget about my first love and focus on my current one. You.”

[odoraful]

𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒

even in their relationship with you, they still have their moments of jealousy every now and again

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; established relationship; luke & kieran appearance in sylus’ scene; new receptionist in zayne's scene; andrew appearance in xavier's scene; a little silly and a lot fluffy; 0.8–1k words per scene

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ZAYNE ⟡

Every situation requires an assessment to determine the most logical course of action. Zayne embodied this statement in his work, and even in parts of his relationship with you. One such part was when it came to jealousy. In all his assessments, 99% of the time, there was no threat, and, therefore, no intervention required. In any case, if a guy were to approach you in such a way, he trusted you entirely as well to not entertain him. However, as he opened his office door to call you from the waiting room, he was confronted by that 1%.

The new receptionist hired to work alongside Yvonne was young, charming, and far too friendly. Especially towards you. You stopped by quite regularly. Sometimes for your scheduled check-in appointments, and oftentimes to simply visit Zayne during his downtime. That was enough for the young man to recognise you, his energy ignited by your presence.

Zayne could only see your side profile as you stood by the receptionist desk, engaged in a conversation with the young man. You appeared to be all smiles with him today. Whatever story he was telling seemed to be so thrilling. Zayne’s face remained calm, aside from the twitch of his jaw when he clenched his teeth. If anybody had been watching, they would have likely jumped at such a sign of vexation by the cardiac surgeon.

Until that point, he thought he had known what jealousy was. He had read it in books and seen it in TV shows, all of which portrayed jealousy leading to several outbursts and stand-offs. However, as he felt something rising from the pit of his stomach and burning in his chest, he understood that the purest kind of it now flared inside him. It was a dangerous emotion that clouded his mind and, before he knew it, his feet had carried him right to your side.

Mr. Chatterbox regarded Zayne with disbelief at his approach, standing up to properly greet him.

“Doc! What a rare sight seeing you personally greet a patient at the desk.”

Zayne paid only a cursory glance and the slightest nod of acknowledgement to him before his attention was narrowed on you.

“If you’d like to come in now, Y/N,” Zayne said, his voice smooth and warm.

You nodded. “Of course.”

As you walked, he placed his hand at the small of your back, pulling you closer to him by just a fraction. He turned his head to the side, enough so the young man could see his sharp eyes. Zayne wasn’t one for outbursts, so he hoped this calculated display was enough of a warning.

Watching Dr. Zayne disappear with you into his office, the receptionist muttered to himself, “Why does it feel chillier in here than before?”

Yvonne, a bystander to everything that just occurred, quietly approached her freshly hired colleague from behind. She delt a swift smack on his head with the edge of her palm. He yelped out in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the spot as if she had just given him a bruise.

“Could you be anymore oblivious…” she sighed, shaking her head. Her gaze then turned fiery as she began to scold, “And how many times have I told you to stop yammering around patients!?”

At the sound of Yvonne’s voice, he immediately redirected his efforts. Not even addressing his colleague’s prior criticism, he clasped his hands together.

“Miss Yvonne! How are you doing on this lovely–”

“Fax this, please,” she interrupted, holding a referral letter up directly to his face.

He gave a mock shiver, taking the paper from Yvonne’s hand. “So cold in this division.”

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“It seemed like you were making good conversation with our new hire,” Zayne commented, closing the door behind him.

You breathed a laugh. “He’s quite chatty. I guess it’s good to have someone so energetic working at the desk.”

That sensation within Zayne turned molten, though, you couldn’t have known with the coolness of his palm. What would be his intervention here? Maybe he needed to have a stern conversation with the young man, or perhaps he had to be more obvious in his affections towards you. He could never match the energy the receptionist had, so it would be impossible to achieve such a feat.

In his momentary stewing, you let out an uncertain hum.

“To be honest, he kept talking about himself... it was a little overwhelming,” you confessed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “I couldn’t be impolite to him, so I just smiled and nodded at whatever he said!”

Instantly, Zayne’s mind cleared. His jealousies dwindled into nothing more than ashes. A part of him even felt silly at how intense he was feeling just a few seconds ago.

Unexpectedly, he rested his head on your shoulder with a sigh. Your eyes widened with confusion before you chuckled.

“Isn’t this a bit unprofessional, doctor?” you teased.

“Feel free to file a complaint to the hospital’s human resource division,” he retorted, not missing a beat.

Your mirth readily turned into concern at the affectionate display.

“But seriously, Zayne, is everything okay?” you asked, poking at his cheek.

Zayne lifted his head. He seemed to be, surprisingly, relieved. Though, you couldn’t figure out what exactly he would be relieved about.

“Yes, everything is perfect now.”

SYLUS ⟡

There was nothing that a deathly glare or a good shove couldn’t do to resolve Sylus’ jealousy. Warding off any unsuspecting parties was his speciality, especially if it involved them getting too close to you. However, the leader of Onychinus was thrown for a loop when his very own henchmen were sparking these feelings.

“You are… going out with Y/N today?” Sylus spoke slowly, as if sounding out syllables to a baby. “Is what I’m hearing correct, Luke?”

Kieran not-so-subtly kicked Luke in the shin. Luke stifled a groan. Rather than be on their way to Linkon (and to you), they were here being confronted by the boss. It was an unfortunate slip-up from Luke as they were about to leave, which caused Sylus to sternly halt their exit.

“Yes, boss.” Luke replied, trying to stand up straighter with only one good shin.

“And for what reason exactly?” Sylus asked.

Luke resignedly sighed.

“They wanted someone to–”

“Help clean their apartment!” Kieran quickly finished.

He turned and gave a pointed glare to his twin brother. You better follow along, it seemed to threaten.

Luke began nodding profusely, “Yep! Gosh, boss, you wouldn’t even believe the mess!”

“This type of menial work was probably too peasantry for you–”

“So, they invited us instead!”

Sylus’ henchmen stood there, looking quite proud of themselves and their innocent display. Sylus rolled his eyes at their dramatics. Luke and Kieran could do any task Sylus asked, no matter how dirty, and yet they were quite terrible at lying. Maybe he needed to teach them some skills in deception later. He dismissed them sharply with a wave of his hand.

“Go. Make sure to return before I leave this evening.”

The henchmen bowed, preparing to scurry away, but before they could, Sylus spoke again,

“Don’t take your eyes off them for even a second, do you understand?”

They turned back to Sylus and nodded, bowing once again.

“And–”

Sylus’ continual interruption of their exit left them in an awkward position right at the threshold of his office.

“–they don’t enjoy mopping, so I trust one of you will play the gentleman and take up that task.”

“You got it, boss.” Luke and Kieran said in unison before finally departing.

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Sylus was planning on sleeping before your date in the evening, but that was completely out of the question now.

Hanging out with Luke and Kieran? To, supposedly, clean? He knew what they had told him was a lie. However, a small, burning part of him was frustrated. If that had been the truth, he naturally would have been the far better partner. With the time you had shared together, surely you had not so quickly found his own company lacklustre in comparison to his henchmen. He could have been in your apartment, with you, cleaning together. Instead, he was in his mansion, alone, and grumpy. Grumpy enough to open his tablet, and switch to his camera feeds connected to Mephisto.

He had asked if his skilled companion could do a bit of reconnaissance at your apartment to confirm what this ragtag trio were doing. As the camera feed loaded, he saw that your home was empty. Internally, he cursed. Mephisto flew down to street level, and, as luck would have it, three familiar people stepped out of the apartment complex. Luke and Kieran were there (wearing face masks and caps that disguised their faces as opposed to their crow masks) along with you.

Sylus sat up in his bed. 

He followed this trio as they walked to a nearby clothing store. Unfortunately, it would be considered odd for a crow to be indoors, so all Mephisto could do was perch atop a bench in front of the establishment and watch the three of you retreat inside behind the automatic glass doors.

Tossing the tablet aside onto the silk sheets, Sylus crossed him arms. If the thought of not being able to clean with you had made him grumpy, then seeing that he was not invited to shop for clothes with you truly made his blood boil with jealousy. As he attempted to get some rest, he thought about casual ways to mention on this evening’s date how he could rent out entire department stores for you if you wanted.

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Sylus tapped his dress shoes rhythmically against the floor, awaiting your door to be opened after he had rung the bell. He had arrived at exactly 5 o’clock to pick you up, and although he was always well put together, he put in a little extra effort on his hair this time.

He heard the door unlock, slowly opening to only reveal your head poking out. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sweetie, are you trying to hide from me?”  

“Mmm, think of it more like I’m building anticipation,” you explained with a grin on your face.

Sylus laughed fondly. He leaned his own head against the wall beside the doorframe, turning to look at you.

“Consider me sufficiently anticipated,” he replied. “Now, may I see you?”

You gestured for him to move back so you could give a grand reveal.

“I just bought this today.”

The door swung open, and you stepped outside.

“How do I look?”

Very little could surprise Sylus; however, you had utterly blindsided him in this moment. You were wearing a dress that Sylus didn’t recognise from your current wardrobe. He knew then that the outing with Luke and Kieran had been to surprise him with a new dress for your date.

Flowy, ruby fabric draped against your figure, reaching down to your ankles. His eyes followed the heart-shaped neckline that framed the pearl necklace that rested at your collarbones, matching the accessory in your hair. All this prepared just for him.

“You look absolutely radiant,” he breathed.

Closing the distance, he snaked a hand around you, toying with the smooth material under his warm fingertips. Seeing how gorgeous you were almost alleviated his earlier frustrations, until he came to a sour realisation.

“Though, I can’t help but be… annoyed that Luke and Kieran saw this surprise before me.”

You bit your lip. Of course, Sylus had figured out what his henchmen were doing throughout the day. His voice grew deeper as his lips brushed against your ear.

“Next time, kitten, you should invite me to go with you instead.”

XAVIER ⟡

It took very little to spark Xavier’s jealousy, as much as the man himself would want to deny it. Strangers, colleagues, and acquaintances could cause his unassuming appearance to transform into a hostile front if they got too friendly with you. But today was another ordinary workday, so there would surely be no situation where Xavier should feel such a way.

There had been a string of quiet days at the Hunters Association that meant that Team Alpha could finally make use of their office. Namely you and Xavier, who usually were assigned to field missions. Your neglected chair squeaked under your weight as you stretched your body, lifting your arms high into the air then relaxing. Twirling the pen in your hand, the words on page about recent energy fluctuations seemed to swirl in your vision. Xavier turned from his own desk to observe you.

“I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine.” He stood up, the wheels of his chair clattering against the hard floor. “Do you want one too?”

“Green tea, please,” you replied.

“Warm or cold?”

“Cold,” you decided. You clapped your hands against your face, squishing your cheeks. “I need to shock my system to wake it up.”

Xavier’s face broke into a smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Before he could walk away, a voice called out your name.

“Morning Y/N!”

Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly at the approaching man.

He was tall (though not as tall as himself), with ashy hair precisely tousled to reveal his forehead, and friendly eyes. Xavier’s senses heightened in the same way as they would in a battle with a Wanderer. The unfamiliar man had greeted you with such familiarity. Only two words had been spoken, yet it was enough to irk Xavier. If he had called you less kindly, that would have helped to lower his guard.

To his surprise, the man turned his attention towards him.

“Ah, you must be Xavier! I’ve heard much about you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Andrew, head of the Data Analysis sector.”

Xavier stared at Andrew’s hand for a moment—blinking and discerning. Head of Data Analysis… Is this some kind of power move? He gave the hand a brusque shake.

“Excuse me, I need to get some drinks for the two of us,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away to the office’s break room.

Andrew furrowed his brows as he watched Xavier leave.

“Quite elusive, isn’t he?”

You shook your head.

“Maybe when you first meet him. But once you get to know him, you’ll see just how reliable he is.”

The tenderness in your tone came unconsciously to you, but it always happened when you spoke about Xavier to others. Especially towards those who might misinterpret his neutral disposition.

Small talk continued over the next minute between you and Andrew, until he suddenly looked at you with a slight frown.

“There’s an eyelash on your face,” he said, pointing vaguely to the left side of your face.

You used your fingers to swipe across your skin, yet Andrew still shook his head.

“No, no. It’s right here.”

He brought his finger closer to show you exactly where it was.

The dull thud of plastic bottles falling to the ground could be heard a couple of metres beside you. A blinding light zipped through the air, alongside a gust of air that swept your hair back. Before you could even register what had caused this phenomenon, Xavier appeared between you and Andrew. Your wide eyes stared at his hand gripping Andrew’s wrist.

“Xavier?” you called in surprise.

Xavier seemed equally shocked at how instinctually he acted. One moment he had seen Andrew’s hand move closer to your face, and the next he was face-to-face with him.

“I-I don’t know what came over me.” He released Andrew from his iron hold. “I'm really sorry”.

With a small bow, Xavier braced himself, ready to receive the full brunt of anger from the Head of Data Analysis. He shuddered at the thought that this might be reported to Captain Jenna. Instead, Andrew shook his head calmly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He gave an understanding smile, observing your worried expression towards Xavier. “In fact, I do believe this was my bad.”

The abandoned green tea bottles rolled lazily beside the desks, and Andrew picked them up. “I’ll be heading off to my office now, I’ll see you two later.”

Handing the drinks to you and Xavier, you both expressed your thanks. As Andrew left, you turned to Xavier.

“Xavier,” you spoke slowly, “what exactly was that?”

He scratched his head and diverted his eyes from you.

“I saw he was getting too close, and my body moved faster than my head…”

It was hard not to react at how adorably guilty he looked.

What am I going to do with you? You thought, sighing in affectionate amusement.

“I know how it must have looked from afar, but there was just an eyelash on my face that Andrew was trying to point out,” you explained.

Again, you swiped a finger across your face. “I still don’t know where it is though.”

Your movements were halted as Xavier gently grasped your wrist. He leaned in close, examining your face. You felt his light touch against your eyelids as he took off the lash.

“You know, there’s a superstition about this,” he began, handing the lash to you.

“They say if you have a stray eyelash, you can use it to make a wish.”

He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red believing his next words to perhaps sound a little childish. 

“So, I wanted to be the one who would give you that wish.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

Rafayel’s jealousy would make itself known to you the moment he felt it. Though he would hide it between clever, teasing remarks, it was cute to see how clingy he got when it happened. And there was no better situation to provoke such feelings than at a gala hosted by Flux Arts. Admittedly, it was difficult to get the artist himself to attend these gatherings that featured one of his own paintings, so Thomas had to devise a convincing reason for him to go. That reason, naturally, being you. If you were his plus one, Rafayel could certainly face any battle.

You stood in front of Rafayel’s painting now as he had left you for the moment to speak with Thomas. Even after being exposed to his work many times (both mid progress and completed) they still managed to instil awe within you.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The voice pulled you back into the room, and you looked over at the stranger beside you. He appeared to be slightly older and was likely a wealthy, enthusiastic patron of the gala.

“Yes, it is,” you agreed. “It’s one of my favourites.”

In truth, you favoured it because you were there when Rafayel painted it. From start to finish, he had you at his side. Though abstract, upon closer inspection, one could extrapolate details of a city with glorious towers and vibrant, thriving coral. It held a special place in your heart.

The man’s eyes were glued to the painting.

“Rafayel truly is an artist you get once in a lifetime.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in the gentleman’s compliment.

“It’s hypnotising to witness the scenes he creates,” he continued. “He seems to bare his soul in each painting.”

“He is quite an expressive man,” you commented, breathing a small laugh.

From picking out the perfect outfits to the perfect paint materials, passion infused every part of Rafayel’s life, including in his relationship with you. It was one of his greatest traits you adored about him.

The familiarity in your tone was lost on the man, who believed you to only be an admirer of the artist, and not an admirer of a different sort.

The conversation continued, and you discovered the man to be a professor of history. He had discovered Rafayel through his own interest in ancient civilisations such as Lemuria. You couldn’t help but beam with pride listening to the man speak so highly of Rafayel, and the impression his works had left on him. The man soon took his leave, thanking you for entertaining his enthusiastic ramblings.

You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice Rafayel with his arms folding behind you. He graciously gave you a few seconds to detect his presence. Though, his frown grew as you continued to be, supposedly, too starstruck from your earlier conversation with that stranger.

He cleared his throat loudly.

You spun around at the familiar voice.

“Raf! How long have you been standing there for?”

He shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. However, anyone with two eyes could have guessed the annoyance on his face.

“Enough to hear the last bits of your conversation.” He strode to your side, arms still folded tight across his chest. “Found interesting company so soon after I left?”

You closed the gap between the two of you with a step, preparing to explain the true nature of that conversation. Not letting you interrupt his sulking, Rafayel continued,

“I need to be more wary. There are too many people here wanting to whisk you away from me.”

As soon as you walked into the gallery arm-in-arm, people’s eyes were drawn to the two of you. At his mention that you were the centre of attention, you had dismissed it, saying it was him everyone took interest in.

Tilting your head to the side, you placed your hands your hips, almost as if to say: Are you going to let me speak?

Rafayel quickly conceded, spluttering out his next question, “And why were you being so chummy with that stranger, anyway?”

“That stranger said he was a professor of history specialising in ancient cities, and that he’s been an admirer of your works for a long time,” you answered.

Poking at his cheek with your finger, you attempted to remove his pout that remained affixed on his face.

“I was being chummy because he was complimenting your work! It made me happy to hear that people have such high praise for you and your paintings.”

Rafayel’s pout disappeared.

“It just made me think… how proud I am to have you as my partner,” you smiled. “You leave a profound impression on people.”

Your words resonated in his head. He stood motionless, with only the slow blink of his eyes.

His lack of reaction made you flush.

“Ah, that was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry–”

The apology stopped short in your throat as you were scooped into a tight hug. Rafayel’s arms wrapped around your waist. A few gala attendees looked over at the young couple with admiring gazes, wondering what could have happened that would cause such open affection.

Rafayel nuzzled his forehead into the curve of your neck, mumbling right by your ear, “Jeez, here I was trying to be jealous…”

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