#that the change one saw with other shook them

[verycoolusername1]

Maybe It Was Fate

Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.

Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader

A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!

AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER

It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.

It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.

You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.

He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.

You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?

The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.

You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.

You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?

"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.

"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.

He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."

"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.

"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.

"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.

"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"

"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.

"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.

"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.

You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.

"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.

"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."

"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.

"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.

You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.

"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.

"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.

Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."

You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.

"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.

"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.

"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.

You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.

All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.

"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.

"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.

"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."

"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.

"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.

"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.

Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.

Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.

"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.

"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.

"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.

"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.

"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."

[oceantornadoo]

where you’ve been assigned to working with john price on a report and the proximity is getting to you both…

(f!reader)

-

late nights pouring over reports in the base conference room with price. he tries to bring you coffee the second night and adjusts to black tea after watching the displeased twist of your lips. you start across the table, a respectful and professional distance, but by the third night, you’re shoulder to shoulder, peering over at each other’s screens silently. the information you’re reviewing is grave, life changing to the folks who live it, but you can’t help your laugh when john struggles to turn a pdf into a word document.

you give up on wearing business professional after the incident. the rip of your skirt as you jumped up from excitement, finally finding a breakthrough in your work. john’s eyes practically burned into your thigh, like the sight of your tights over newly bare skin offended him. you didn’t even notice until he pointed it out, swallowing thickly as he muttered “got a problem there, love.” before excusing himself to bring back more tea.

when you switched to wearing jeans, john started wondering if he had offended some sort of god in the past life. why was there so much bending involved in your work? bending over the table to find a report in the mess of papers, your ass practically wiggling in his face. sneaking past his shoulder so you can see if he’s made any progress, the glimpse of your thigh off the chair reminding him of what it would like if- never mind. he swore your perfume was laced into your clothes, a cloud of it remaining after you went home for the night, your familiar scent searing itself into the back of his brain.

“john?” your voice pulled him out of his trance of wondering how he’d gotten here. it had been a week of this proximity torture with no end in sight. “yeah?” your pen tapped the picture in front of you. “this guy’s copying your muttonchops.” snorting, john leaned over, staring hard at the suspect’s picture as he tried not to focus about being six inches from your lap. “nah, ‘s a different style. mine’s more grown out, his is jus’ a shadow.” you hummed thoughtfully. “didn’t realize there was so much discourse in the beard community. seems a bit confusing.” he laughed, that short bark that made you smile despite yourself.

“‘s not all that confusing. here, y’ can feel the difference.” he grabbed your hand and pulled it into his beard, manicured fingers diving into his facial hair. you scratched it on instinct and were rewarded with a low throaty groan and a fluttering of his eyelids. “so soft, john.” the normally serious captain seemed like putty in your hands as your fingers explored the line of his jaw. it was quiet for a long moment, john’s eyes closed as you took him in without his usual surly stare. “yeah, honey?” his eyes flicked open as you stopped your movement, thumb near the corner of his mouth. your mouth gaped open, the moment broken.

“fuck, i’ve made you uncomfortable.” john pulled away fast, your hand dropping his face as he moved farther and farther away. “i can ask the lieutenant to finish up ‘ere, should only take a week more.” he tried to get up from his seat but you were more determined, beating him to the punch with a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. “john, stop. it’s okay.” you’d never seen him like this: unsure. “didn’t mean to say what i said, love.” you shook your head vehemently. “it’s okay, i just…no one’s ever called me honey before. kinda thought it was a sitcom thing.”

he was doing the math, picking apart every word you said, every inflection of every letter. you could see it in his eyes, the realization that you weren’t uncomfortable. the change might have scared you if hadn’t been so damn attractive. his posture perfect again, thighs flexing as his hands, big calloused hands, laid relaxed against them. he wasn’t grinning but you saw his cheek pull up, the movement of the beard you’d just been touching. it was instantaneous; the captain was back.

“and?” he stood up, your hand still on his shoulder. “and…i don’t mind it.” he was forcing you to look up, a height difference between you that you’d never notice because you both were always sitting.

“c’mere, honey.” you stepped closer, your other arm wrapping around his other shoulder. those hands wrapped around your waist and dipped lower to your upper thighs. he picked you with ease, all protests of your weight dying on your tongue as you let out a squeal. john sat you on the conference table, pushing reports and laptops out of the way to make space for his meal. “fuck, ‘ve been wantin’ you on this table for a week now.” he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs, tracing the denim of your pants. “and these jeans.” you frowned. “you don’t like my jeans?” he shook his head, thumbs exploring your waistline, tucking under your shirt to meet bare skin. “i love ‘em, darling. want t’ see you in them everyday.” he popped the top button then looked up at you for permission. you nodded, lying back on your forearms, restraining your hips from canting.

he chuckled at your confidence, unzipping you then sliding down the denim from your legs and off, along with your shoes. maybe it had been a form of manifestation or delusion, but either way you had worn your favorite pair of lacy black underwear. john seemed to appreciative, growling at the sight as his fingers brushed over your clothed pussy. “were you expectin’ someone t’ see these?” you grinned. “maybe i was hoping.” he brushed over your entrance and your hips chased the feeling, riding up to meet his fingers. “someone’s eager.” he didn’t let you reply, pressing his thumb over your entrance, rubbing up and down around your clit as wetness pooled in your underwear. you whined at his teasing, a coil building low in your stomach. “john…” he dipped his thumb under the fabric of your underwear, tracing the slickness of your slit. “hm, honey?” his low tone sent a rush of warmth into your body, a combination of domesticity and restraint. “want you, please.” he was playing down, putting his thumb inside you but knowing the angle was all wrong, it barely brushing your entrance. “want me where?” he finally pulled down your underwear, leaning his body over you, putting you face to face. “want your fingers inside me.”

john captured your lips with his own, pushing a thick middle finger into you as he pressed his thumb to your clit. you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in further. “so wet f’ me, baby. you been wantin’ this?” you nodded eagerly, shutting him up with another kiss. he pumped his finger in and out as he circled patterns on your clit, the feeling of it overwhelming. you were so wet and hot, this big strong man panting into your mouth as he made you feel so good. your nipples scratched the inside of your bra as your cunt clenched around his finger. he added a second one, the fullness of it almost overwhelming. “john, i’m gonna…” he gave you another rough kiss. john pulled you closer using those fingers inside of your messy cunt, thumb pressing hard on your clit. it was so possessive and dirty that you could feel the start of your orgasm. “come f’ me, darling. go’on.” you let go, clenching hard around him. he kept going unless you went limp, finally removing his fingers with a pop. his other arm was holding you up as he tasted you on his fingers. “sweet like honey.” you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness. “you’re so full of shit.” he kissed you again, short and loving. “‘m not lyin’.” another kiss, this one to your forehead. “you wanna stay here tonight? ‘s already late.” you squirmed at the realization you were half naked in a conference room, your colleagues fingers dripping with your wetness as he stood fully clothed, his cock straining against his pants. “is that weird? or too fast? i don’t even know what you want or what i want-“ he kissed you again, this time gruff, like a captain. “jus’ come home with me, honey. ill handle the rest.” and to that, you nodded.

[crushpunky]

rafe returns to kook!reader

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

!!! obx4 spoilers below !!!

Y/n scrolled her phone aimlessly, gnawing her thumbnail as she perused headlines for any sort of hint at where Rafe could possibly be. It had been nearly a month of wondering if he was even alive, the only thing giving her hope were the random, cryptic text messages she had received from him every few days… except that they stopped a week ago. Their relationship was never easy, the two of them so close it almost felt like the line between friends and something more was blurred, but no matter what, they always talked to each other. She had tried talking to Rose or Wheezie to see if they had any idea of what could be going on with him or Sarah, the both of them apparently gone on some sort of wild goose chase, but they simply brushed any of y/n’s questions or concerns off.

With a sigh, y/n turned her phone off and tossed it to the side of her bed. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart and thoughts when she was suddenly pulled out of her spiral by a knock at the door. She hadn’t been expecting anyone, her parents were both out at a dinner, and it was nearly midnight…

“Y/n?” A shout from the front door caused her heart to flip. Y/n clamored out of her bed, nearly falling down the stairs at the familiar voice. Once she reached the door, her shaky hands fumbled with the lock before flinging the door open. There, on her porch, his hair a bit longer than she had remembered, but his eyes still the same stormy blue, was Rafe. Y/n let out a sob before throwing herself at him, nearly knocking him off the porch as she hugged him tightly. Her fingers curled into his shirt, burying her face into his chest as she cried, all the anxiety and fear she had been holding evaporating the moment she saw him.

“I’m so sorry.” Rafe said, pressing his face into the top of y/n’s head, his voice cracking. Y/n pulled away, her hands grabbing the sides of his face as tears continued to stream down her face. His skin was tanner and a bruise lingered on one of his cheekbones, but he was still the same boy she had fallen in love with so long ago. Standing in front of her. Alive.

“I– I thought you were dead,” y/n sobbed, her hands soothing down his shoulders but her gaze never leaving his. Rafe shook his head, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he rested his palms on y/n’s cheeks.

“There was so much going on and—” Rafe rambled.

“Why didn’t you call? Or– or text?” Y/n said, her breathing ragged with the conflicting emotions running through her. He was here, and he was alive, but why hadn’t he called? Why had he forgotten about her?

“I tried, y/n, I tried but it was too risky.” Rafe said, his thumb running along the highs of y/n’s cheekbones.

“Bullshit ‘it was too risky’!” Y/n gripped onto Rafe’s shoulders. “I was worried sick, Rafe, I didn’t know where you were or what was going on or—-”

Y/n was cut off when Rafe wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly into his chest. Y/n eyes widened for a moment before she relaxed, snaking her arms around her. She could feel him trembling under her touch, melting into her for a second until he pulled back once more.

“Y/n, I– I fucked up,” Rafe panted. “I… I’ve treated you like shit, always hurting you and getting high and hooking up with girls and taking my anger out on you and taking you for granted… Being away from you for so long made me realize that none of that other shit matters, a’ight? What matters is you and I’m sorry I was too fucking young and naive and stupid to notice that.”

Rafe’s words hung thickly in the air, y/n’s mind swirling. She had watched him grow from a boy to a young man, but now, in front of her, filled with such genuine, raw emotion was the man she always knew he was capable of being.

“Please… please say something.” Rafe swallowed harshly, his hands resting gently on y/n’s shoulders.

“I… what happened? What changed?” Y/n whispered. What had finally clicked? Changed? Allowed him to see what she and everyone else in his life had been trying to get him to see his entire life?

“I, uh… I talked to Sarah.” Rafe said, chewing on his lip. Y/n quirked her brow. Y/n had known the Camerons for as long as she could remember and was well aware of Sarah and Rafe’s troubled relationship. After Ward’s death, she was more than certain the two of them would never speak to each other again.

“Sarah?” Y/n said. “You talked to Sarah?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said lowly.

“She was with you?” Y/n stammered. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine…” Rafe trailed off, his jaw clenching slightly as he avoided y/n’s eyes for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked, furrowing her brows.

“She’s, um… she’s pregnant.” Rafe whispered. Y/n hands dropped from where they rested on Rafe’s arms, her mouth falling agape. Sarah, the same girl she and Rafe had grown up with, was pregnant? As in, was going to be a mother?

“Oh my god…” Y/n said, attempting to blink back some of the shock. “I need to see her– I need to talk to her. We need to–”

“Y/n…” Rade sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“What? Why not? I thought…” Y/n shook her head, her eyes scanning over Rafe’s jittery disposition.

“She, uh— her friends— shit.” Rafe groaned, closing his eyes as took in a deep breath. Y/n waited, soothing her hands down his arms gently.

“JJ, he, uh… he didn’t make it.” Rafe finally said, opening his eyes once more.

“H-he didn’t make it, what do you mean?” Y/n stammered. Sure, she wasn’t close to JJ, but still. He was important to Sarah, he was so young…

“He… he was killed.” Rafe said lowly, nodding to himself. Y/n took in a harsh breath, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. Y/n looked back up, Rafe’s face filled with so much turmoil, so much loss, so much… hurt.

“Rafe, I’m… I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I had no idea.” Y/n whispered.

“Don’t— don’t feel bad for me. Lord knows I don’t fucking deserve it.” Rafe said with a small chuckle.

“Rafe, you’ve… done things, but… you’ve also been through so much; your dad, your mom, your sister…” Y/n said, Rafe’s eyes meeting her own, wide and watery.

“You… you’re trying to be a different person— you are a different person. You need to give yourself some grace.” Y/n finished, her hands moving to rest on the sides of Rafe’s face. Tears streamed slowly down his cheeks, the evidence of years and years of hiding all the pain he felt.

“Thank you, y/n. For everything.” Rafe whispered. Y/n smiled gently, raising up on her toes to press a kiss to Rafe’s cheek.

“Thank you, Rafe.” Y/n said.

“For what?” Rafe asked, a small smile spreading across his lips.

“For being my best friend.” Y/n said.

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> first meetings - maknae line

word count: 2.1k TW: a bit of swearing, cyana is sad for some reason italics are in english and bolded words are in Mandarin this is a continuation from the hyung line fic, so please read that for continuity's sake!

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

MINGHAO:

Although he had been all but ready to make fun of Jun when he was nervous and shy, Minghao found himself suffering just the same as Cyana approached him. Being the final member to meet her officially, he had the gruelling process of waiting as she slowly made her way through members before finally reaching him. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Xu Minghao." He opted for a hug rather than a handshake, smiling when Cyana wrapped her arms comfortably around his waist. Parting, Cyana shot him a bright smile. "I'm so glad you and Jun speak Mandarin. I haven't met anyone besides my parents who knew the language." Minghao was glad to have brought her a sense of comfort. "We're just as happy. It's always nice to meet someone connected to home. Where in China are you from?" "My parents lived in Shenzhen before moving to Vancouver." Minghao's eyes widened and he glanced at Jun, who was lazily stretching, warming up for practice. "Jun's from Shenzhen too." Cyana followed his gaze, frowning when she saw the boy. "He's very quiet." She gathered. Minghao nodded, chuckling. "He's shy around strangers. He'll warm up, don't worry. He was quiet around me too, when we first met." He turned to look at her, studying her before continuing. "You're quiet too though, a little bit." Cyana flushed. "I don't really speak much, yeah. Prefer to listen most times." Honestly, Minghao didn't mind. He enjoyed the peaceful nature that seemed to radiate off her even within the short time they'd met. It was a change from the usual chaotic energy SEVENTEEN oozed of that Minghao accepted gratefully. "If it ever gets too much, Wonwoo and I are usually quieter company. We don't like doing too much outside of work." He didn't miss the way her face soured when he brought up Wonwoo's name. Cyana took his advice and invitation gratefully, promising to tell him if things ever got too much and to come find him whenever necessary. He savoured the look on her face, one of pure innocence and blissful unawareness of the tumultuous waves idol life could be. He distinctly remembered entering Korea with the same wide-eyed look on his own face and made a quiet promise he'd help keep that glow in Cyana's face as long as possible.

DK:

"Hi hi~" DK bounced up to Cyana, shaking her hand vigorously. He had heard Seungcheol's warning in the beginning -- to be calm and not to overwhelm the girl -- but he just had so much excitement to share! This was a day of celebration, having a new member join them, and it irked him a bit that the others were not treating it as such. "I'm Dokyeom, nice to meet you!" He sang, smile widening when Cyana moved to match his energy. "Hi, Dokyeom~" Cyana giggled at the boy's actions, unconsciously matching both his tone delivery and his movements, hands in his as they both jumped with excitement. She found it endearing, how energy seemed to spill out of him uncontrollably. "I wanted it to be a big celebration," He explained, pausing for Joshua to quickly translate. "I was going to order a cake, put up decorations, maybe some gifts-" Cyana protested profusely. "No, no- that's too much work." Deterred from his original train of thought by her sudden Korean, DK cooed, shaking her as he died at how cute it was. "Ah~ so cute!" Cyana blushed, unsure of what to do with the amount of attention DK was giving her. She was also hyperaware of the fact that he was still clutching her hands from before. Noticing how stiff her posture had gotten all of a sudden, DK immediately took a step back, unlatching himself from her and apologizing. Cyana shook her head. "No, no, it's okay. Just caught me off-guard." She sent him a warm smile. "This is nice." She admitted after a pause, enjoying how comfortable she was around him. She felt as if she had known Dokyeom for ages. DK sent back a blazing smile of his own. "Yes." He agreed happily, "So nice. So amazing. So unbelie-bubble." Cyana let out a loud laugh, startling everyone, including herself. It had been the loudest sound she'd made since entering the room. DK grinned, proud. Her laugh was really pretty, he realized. It made him want to make her laugh again just to hear it, to bathe in the warmth of it. Hell, he'd bottle it up if he could.

MINGYU:

Mingyu knew Wonwoo was hiding behind him. A coward, he mused, as he watched Cyana make her way slowly towards them. He couldn't understand why so many of them were nervous to meet her, Cyana was just a girl like so many others they had met before. "Hello~ I'm Mingyu." He opened his arms tentatively for a hug and felt both pride and relief when she had accepted. Okay, maybe he was a little nervous. He was scared she'd find him intimidating because of his sheer height and size. "You're- so tiny." He said, gesturing with his hand how short she was compared to him. Cyana gave him a look. "We've only just met and you're making fun of my height?" Mingyu spluttered, backtracking. "I- um." He pointed wordlessly at a cackling Vernon. "He teach me- to say." Vernon had insisted the line would be a good icebreaker. Now she seemed more amused then offended. "Ah~ I see. It's okay, I was only joking. You are very tall." He nodded, agreeing. "Yes. The most tall." He thought she seemed quite impressed by it all. "Your English is good!" She complimented, happy that they were able to carry a decent conversation on their own. He grinned. "Practice." He pointed at Vernon again. "Vernon." Cyana smiled. He liked making her smile, it brightened her face and the hint of sadness within her eyes disappeared when she did. Mingyu wondered what on earth could have made her so sad so early in the morning, but figured they were not close enough to directly ask. He didn't really know how to say all that in English anyways.

SEUNGKWAN:

Seungkwan found it both a bit endearing and amusing, the way Cyana was following behind him as they toured SEVENTEEN's floor. He likened her to a confused and intrigued cat, running her hands across the wall as he led her down the hallway towards the main lobby. Her eyes shone, and she was listening with full attentiveness at whatever he was saying. "This is- uh, recording studio, three recording studio, here." He pointed to the hallway to the left of them. "And here-" he paused, doing his best to recall the English word for 주방. "Here is kitchen. Eating~" He mimed eating food as Cyana nodded. He'd noticed that Cyana was very quiet and only ever talked if it was to answer a question. He didn't mind of course, many members had been like that too when they'd first met, but it confused him why a child actor would be so shy. "You are actor?" He asked, stopping in the lobby to get her response. He could almost feel the shift in the atmosphere the moment he asked the question. Cyana's shoulders tensed and she nodded. "In LA, yes." "That's cool." He offered lamely, not really knowing what else to say. Getting the sense that she didn't want to talk about the topic, Seungkwan gestured over to the large screen that overtook one of the lobby walls, currently displaying scenes from SEVENTEEN's music videos. "Seventeen." He said, still at a loss of words. It was rare for him not to know what to say, he prided himself in being good at filling silences, but this particular silence felt heavy and sad. He glanced at Cyana, who had her neck craned up as she watched the bright screen flash. The lights reflected against her irises and Seungkwan could swear she was holding back tears. Perhaps it was the homesickness, he deduced, scolding himself for bringing up her acting career. She had probably found it hard to leave everything behind. She turned to him and the heavy silence was gone. "These are all you guys?" She asked, pointing at the screen. Seungkwan nodded. "You guys are amazing." She marvelled. "So synchronized and captivating." "You." He pointed at the screen, having only understood the first compliment. "Soon." She smiled ruefully. "Hopefully. I wouldn't want to let you guys down." He wanted to let her know that he was sure the company had told her that everything was on her shoulders and that their success depended solely on her but the members wouldn't think that way. They'd all been there before, moments before debut and wondering if they'd somehow fail and disappoint the others. He wanted to tell her not to think like that. That she should be performing and working hard for herself and not because she had to. If he could say it in Korean and have her understand, he would have.

VERNON:

"Wassup, I'm Vernon." He shook Cyana's hand, confused when the girl seemed to be fixated on his face. "Is there something on my face?" He asked, reaching up to pat it. Cyana blinked out of her stupor. "Sorry. No, it's just-" She pointed at his sunglasses. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?" "Oh." He took them off sheepishly. "I don't really know." Cyana let out a tiny laugh, gesturing for him to put them back on. "Keep them on, I didn't mean it in a judgemental way." Vernon placed them back on and Cyana couldn't help but laugh at how he seemed to just listen to her without thinking. Maybe it was the tie-dye tshirt or the terribly ripped jeans as well, but Vernon just seemed like a walking meme to Cyana and she found it incredibly funny. "Well, now I just feel like you're laughing at me." Vernon complained, although he was sporting a similar grin. Cyana shook her head, still laughing. "No, no, I swear I'm not." "Don't lie~ You so are." Vernon found that he liked the easy banter that seemed to flow seamlessly between them, realizing just how fast they seemed to click. "No, I'm laughing with you, not at you." "Right. You're going to tell me you actually enjoyed watching Birdbox next." Cyana's jaw dropped. "I actually really hate Birdbox." Vernon's eyes lit up. He'd tried using that line once on Joshua before, but the older boy hadn't understood what Vernon was getting at. "No fucking way." Vernon couldn't contain his excitement. "No one ever gets that reference." "You watch movies too then?" She asked, smiling when he said yes. If Seungcheol hadn't called everyone in for a group huddle before practice, Vernon would've whipped out his letterboxd to compare with hers right then and there. As if having a new member couldn't get any better.

DINO

Dino thrummed with anticipation as he patiently waited for his turn to speak with Cyana. She was really pretty, Dino observed, and she was really shy too. She seemed to interact with most of his hyungs with a sort of apprehension, as if secretly a little bit terrified. Dino couldn't blame her. He supposed they probably did look a little terrifying, all 13 of them when there was just 1 of her. "Hello~" He said, nervous when she approached him. "I'm Dino. And Chan. We're same, uh- old? age. Same age." His ears turned pink at his little stumble. Thankfully, Cyana didn't react to his mistake. "Really?" She said instead, lighting up. "I didn't know that. I've always wanted a friend my age." He thought for a little bit before replying. "Me too." He gave her a bright smile, praying that it'd make up for his poor English. Something about the fact that they were both the same age seemed to have soothed Cyana, as she took a step closer to Dino and held at her phone. "I- um, could you," She flushed as she tried to explain. "do you have the wifi?" Dino's shoulders relaxed, thankful it was a question he could answer. Taking the phone, he recognized her wallpaper to be a view of the Han River. Upon pointing it out, Cyana explained that she had passed by it on her way here and had fallen in love with how peaceful the waters were. He could understand what she meant. He often visited the Han River just to watch the current when he was a trainee. It served as a way to both relax and clear his mind. Handing the phone back, now connected to wifi, he mustered up the courage to ask her something before she could leave to say hi to someone else. "I- Han River. We can go, uh- together?" Cyana smiled and nodded. "Of course."

author's note: thank you so much for reading! thank you for all the love you've given this series and i'll be updating as much as possible. i've fallen in love with this universe and cyana lol.

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses, pilot

ssask masterlist main masterlist

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The summer sun was barely up when I reached the docks. The familiar, slightly salty air of the Outer Banks felt thick with humidity as I made my way toward the HMS Pogue, where the sounds of my friends' laughter echoed over the water. I'd only known Kiara, JJ, John B, and Pope for a couple of years, but it was enough to make them my whole world. Growing up a Cameron usually meant that you stayed on the other side of town, but Kiara changed that for me, and ever since then, the Pogues were my family.

As I got closer, I saw John B adjusting the sail, Pope with a map spread out on his lap, and Kiara leaning against the railing with a grin. Then there was JJ, leaning casually against the side of the boat, his shirt already off, blond hair mussed by the breeze, and his usual smirk firmly in place. That smirk always made my heart race, but I’d never let him know that.

“Look who finally showed up!” JJ called out, grinning at me as I reached the edge of the boat. “Thought maybe you decided to stick with the Kooks for once.”

“Oh, please,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Like I’d miss out on one of your harebrained schemes, Maybank.”

“Oh-ho, Princess Cameron decided to grace us with her presence!” JJ replied, extending a hand to help me aboard. The nickname — “Princess” — started as a joke about me being a Cameron, the high-and-mighty Kook family, but JJ managed to make it sound both teasing and… something else. I wasn’t sure what.

I rolled my eyes but took his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm as he pulled me onto the boat. He held onto my hand just a little longer than necessary, giving me that familiar, lopsided smirk before he let go.

“Alright, everyone here?” John B called out, getting everyone’s attention. “Kie, you got the cooler?”

Kiara held up a cooler filled with snacks and drinks, nodding. “Wouldn’t want to starve during one of your genius plans, would we?”

Pope, still scanning the map, shook his head. “John B’s plans don’t usually involve enough food for survival.”

I laughed, settling into my usual spot on the boat. JJ took his place next to me, and I felt his knee brush against mine. He did it so casually, but it was enough to make my skin tingle.

As we sailed out, John B filled us in on what he’d heard — stories of a wrecked boat washed ashore after the storm, strange lights, and rumors. Typical John B stuff. He was always looking for something, always chasing some mystery. It was just part of him, and despite all the times his plans had gone sideways, we all stuck with him. Today was no different.

We anchored near the marshlands and pulled up to an abandoned area that looked even creepier in the morning light. Mangled trees, debris scattered from the storm, and that eerie silence you only get in places humans have long abandoned.

“Alright, team, stay close,” John B instructed as he led us into the marsh. We walked through thick mud and twisted branches, ducking under vines and hopping over puddles.

As we walked, JJ fell into step beside me, leaning close. “Not too scared, are you, Princess?” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

“Please,” I scoffed, refusing to let him see how his teasing affected me. “This is nothing.”

JJ just chuckled, nudging me playfully. “Sure, sure. Just let me know if you need a big, strong Pogue to save you.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved him to the side, but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips. JJ had a way of making even the creepiest situations feel like a game.

After what felt like ages, we finally reached the wreck. It was a beat-up old fishing boat, half-sunk in the marsh, but John B’s face lit up like he’d just found gold. He hopped on board, and naturally, we all followed, exploring the empty cabin and below deck.

JJ and I stuck together, rifling through drawers and storage boxes that hadn’t seen light in years. Every time he’d find something vaguely interesting — an old compass, a broken fishing rod, an empty can of beans — he’d hold it up like it was some incredible treasure.

“Look at this, Y/N,” he whispered, holding up a rusty pocket knife with a dramatic flourish. “Bet you’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh, a rusty knife? Be still my heart,” I replied, laughing.

JJ put a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Wow. You’re really hard to impress, aren’t you, Princess?”

I shoved him playfully. “Maybe if you actually found something cool.”

“Cool? You mean like this?” he asked, pulling out what turned out to be an old can opener.

I burst out laughing, and he joined in, his laughter echoing in the empty cabin. But before we could keep up our scavenger hunt, John B’s voice called out from above.

“Guys, I think I found something!”

We rushed up to find John B holding an old motel key, looking like he’d just discovered buried treasure.

“A motel key?” Pope raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Yeah, a motel key,” John B replied, grinning. “This could be a clue. Maybe my dad was here. We need to check it out.”

Before anyone could argue, JJ was nodding, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Motel it is.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

By the time we reached the motel, the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the old, rundown building. The place was practically falling apart, its once-bright paint faded to a sad, chipped blue. Windows were either boarded up or shattered, and vines crawled up the sides like the place had been abandoned for years.

“This is definitely haunted,” Pope muttered as we crept through the empty parking lot.

“Oh, don’t worry, Pope,” JJ said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “If any ghosts show up, I’ll protect you.”

“Real comforting, JJ,” I scoffed with a grin.

“Hey, I’ll protect you too, Princess,” he added, flashing me a wink.

I rolled my eyes, but the nickname still made me smile. We entered the motel room, stepping carefully over peeling floor tiles and broken glass. John B immediately got to work, rifling through drawers and checking under the bed. Pope went to search the closet, while Kiara stood by the door, keeping watch.

“Why do I always get lookout duty?” she grumbled.

“Because you’re the best at it?” John B offered, not even looking up from where he was tearing apart a nightstand drawer.

Kiara shot him a glare but kept her post.

I walked over to a cracked window with JJ, where the two of us peered out, watching for any signs of movement. I felt a little thrill of excitement, the rush of breaking the rules, of being somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. And having JJ beside me made it even better.

“What’s the plan if we actually find something?” I asked, looking over at him.

JJ shrugged, giving me that mischievous grin. “Run, scream, or fight. Same as always.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Very reassuring.”

Before he could reply, a sound from outside froze us all in place. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, getting closer. We exchanged panicked glances, and John B motioned frantically toward the window.

“Out! The window!” he whispered urgently.

My stomach dropped as I looked out at the narrow ledge. We were on the second floor, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of shimmying along it. But before I could say anything, JJ grabbed my hand.

“Come on, Princess,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm.

He guided me to the window, helping me climb out onto the ledge. The height made my legs go weak, and I froze, feeling my heart pound in my chest. I froze when I saw how high up we were. The motel’s second story was a lot taller than I expected, and the drop looked… dangerous.

“JJ, I—” I started, feeling my pulse throb with the sudden surge of anxiety.

He gave me a soft look, sensing my fear. “Hey, it’s okay. I got you. Just trust me, alright?”

The footsteps were getting closer, and with no time to argue, I found myself climbing out the window and onto the narrow ledge with JJ by my side. The wind tugged at my hair, and my heart felt like it might burst out of my chest. I didn’t dare look down.

“Just look at me,” JJ said quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle. He placed his hand on my shoulder, steadying me. “Don’t think about the height. Just keep your eyes on me.”

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the height didn’t seem so terrifying. Slowly, I managed to inch forward, JJ staying close beside me the whole time.

When we finally made it to the end of the ledge and climbed down to the ground, I let out a shaky breath of relief. JJ grinned at me, a little too proud of himself. The world faded away for a moment — there was just me and JJ, inches apart, pressed together in the small space. His face was close enough that I could see every freckle, the tiny scar just above his eyebrow, and the way his gaze softened when he looked at me.

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Almost there,” he whispered with one of his hands still on my shoulder, and the other holding mine tightly.

I took a shaky breath, nodding slightly.

I opened my eyes again and saw his gaze still intense, his blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the height didn’t seem so terrifying. Slowly, I managed to inch forward, JJ staying close beside me the whole time.

When the footsteps receded and we heard the door click shut, JJ finally relaxed, giving me a grin. “See? Easy,” he said, but his arm stayed protectively around me, his warmth an anchor in the cold air.

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t make a habit of risking my life out windows.”

“And yet, here you are, risking life and limb with me. Admit it, Princess — you like it.”

I just rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully. But deep down, I knew he was right.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

We finally made it down from the ledge, our hearts still pounding from the close call. JJ grinned at me as we jogged away from the building, that cocky smirk in full force.

“See, told you we’d make it out in one piece,” he said, nudging my shoulder as we caught up with the others.

I rolled my eyes, though a smile slipped onto my face. “Oh sure, let’s just ignore that I was this close to falling two stories because of you.”

“Details, details,” JJ chuckled, tossing an arm around my shoulders. He gave a dramatic sigh, squeezing me. “You’d be bored without me around, Princess.”

It was the same teasing tone he always used, but there was a softness to it, a warmth that made me feel like I actually belonged here with them. I nudged him back, trying to play it cool, but I knew I was already hooked.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Once we were clear, we all slumped onto the deck, catching our breath. JJ looked over at me, breathless but grinning. “Not bad for a Cameron, huh?” he teased.

“Not bad yourself, Maybank,” I shot back, my heart still racing.

He laughed, reaching over to give me a playful shove. “Admit it. You love this.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

Once everyone got fairly settled, we set out across the water again, the thrill of the chase still buzzing through our veins. John B held up the motel key he’d found, waving it like a trophy.

“I’m telling you guys, this means something,” he said, grinning. “My dad was onto something, and now we’re onto it too.”

Pope crossed his arms, giving John B a skeptical look. “We’re onto a motel key, John B. Not exactly the stuff of legends.”

John B shook his head, determined. “I know it sounds small, but it’s a clue. The only clue I’ve had in years.”

Kiara chimed in, her face serious. “I get it, JB. We’re here for you.” She gave him a soft smile, one that we all echoed in our own way. We all knew how much this meant to him.

As John B steered us away from the shoreline, JJ reached into his waistband, pulling out something I hadn’t noticed before. It glinted in the fading light, and my eyes went wide when I saw what he was holding.

“JJ… is that a gun?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My stomach twisted with a mix of fear and shock.

JJ flashed that infamous grin of his, looking way too pleased with himself. “Mhm, picked it up back at the motel,” he said, his voice casual, almost like he was talking about pocket change. He held the gun up for everyone to see, as if he’d just scored the day’s biggest prize as everyone exclaimed, telling him to put it down. Even a butterknife was dangerous in JJ’s hands.

John B’s eyes narrowed. “You stole a gun? From the motel?”

JJ shrugged, clearly unfazed. “We were already committing about three different crimes just being there. What’s one more?”

Kiara crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “JJ, that’s not just ‘one more.’ That’s a gun.”

But JJ just chuckled, tucking it back into his waistband. “Relax. It’s for protection. You never know what we’re going to run into out here, and it’s not like anyone’s going to miss it.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of worry. “JJ, what if someone actually… like, I don’t know… comes looking for it?”

He turned to me, flashing that cocky smirk that usually drove me crazy in the best way, but right now just had me more on edge. “You worry too much, Princess,” he said, patting the gun at his side. “Trust me, no one’s gonna miss this thing.”

“You sure about that?” Pope asked, raising an eyebrow. “What if someone shows up with a warrant, or they track it back to us?”

JJ waved a hand dismissively, clearly not concerned. “We’ll be long gone by then. Besides, they’d never expect to find anything on a bunch of Pogues.”

John B sighed, clearly torn. “Look, I don’t like it either, but… if we’re getting this deep, maybe it’s not the worst idea.”

JJ turned to me with that little glint in his eye, the one that made it impossible for me to stay mad at him. “See? Even John B’s on my side. We’re fine.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

As we made our way back across the water, the sun started to set, casting orange and pink hues across the water. JJ stretched out beside me, leaning back with his hands behind his head, looking as carefree as ever.

“What’s the plan now, Captain?” he asked, glancing over at John B with a smirk.

“Now we go home and lay low until we can check this place out again,” John B replied. “We don’t want to make too much noise… and no one can know we’re doing this. Especially not Ward.”

Everyone nodded, understanding the unspoken rule: what we did as Pogues stayed between us. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little flutter of nerves. Ward Cameron, my dad, wouldn’t just be angry if he found out. He’d be furious. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

We spent the rest of the day laying low, sharing stories and planning our next move. Eventually, we docked back at John B’s place, exhausted but still buzzing from the excitement. As the sun set, we gathered around the firepit, passing around snacks and a few stolen beers.

JJ plopped down beside me, stretching his legs out and leaning back with a contented sigh. “Not a bad day,” he murmured, glancing over at me.

“Yeah,” I agreed softly, feeling the warmth of the fire and the lingering buzz of adrenaline. “One of the best.”

He grinned, scooting a little closer. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling lucky. I’d say this whole wreck hunt thing is our ticket to something big.”

“Think so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “I mean, come on—John B’s dad, the gold, everything’s lining up. And you know what else?”

“What?”

JJ leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “No one’s better at this than us. No one’s got what we’ve got.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Right, a bunch of kids with no money, no backup plan, and a stolen life jacket. Real promising, JJ.”

But he just smirked, reaching over to give my hand a quick squeeze. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

We stayed out by the fire until the stars filled the sky, each of us sharing stories, dreams, and jokes until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. As we all headed back to our respective homes, JJ caught up with me, nudging my shoulder with his.

We walked in comfortable silence with each other for a bit until we got near to my house.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything either.” I spoke into the cool July midnight, JJ ge gave me a rare, genuine smile, something soft and unguarded that made my heart flutter. “Good. Because I’d miss having you around to keep me in line.”

I laughed, shoving him lightly. “You’d be lost without me, Maybank.”

“True,” he replied, his voice warm. “Night, Princess.”

“Goodnight, JJ.”

As he walked off into the night, I realized that something had shifted. We’d crossed lines today, not just with the Coast Guard or with the hunt for the wreck, but something between me and JJ felt different. Stronger. And as I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, I knew that this summer was going to change everything.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

i loved writing this one omg, i hope you guys liked it too, lmk what you think!!

[keyaho]

Because I kinda started and got ahead of myself and started writing on it @pocketsizedpanther / @kumkaniudaku - inspo taken from them!

character name subject to change. stasia is a placeholder name lmao. coming? sometime......

She threw back the curtains separating Terry from direct sunlight. The blackout curtains had done their job, but were no match for the five-foot-two personal assistant with a schedule to maintain. Except her only client was Terry Richmond, certified playboy and a direct pain in her ass twenty hours of the day. 

As she pushed the curtains open, the stench of alcohol, weed, and perfume poisoned her nose. She picked up her iPad and stalked over to the bed. He was half under the covers, one leg siting out from under the blankets, with his face turned to the side on his pillow. As the sun hit his face, she could see his eyes clench. Wake up! She wanted to scream. However, professionally, she tapped his bare shoulder. 

“Mr. Richmond,’ she greeted. “I need you to wake up.” 

He groaned and rolled over, turning his back to her. That wasn’t going to do. She walked to the other side of the bed, where more clothes were. She let out a disgusted sound when she almost stepped on a used condom. This motherfucker…,be calm, Stasia. She thought. Be. Fucking. Calm. 

Was this a frat house? She yanked back the sheets to reveal a naked woman. Again. Her long curly wig was askew and Stasia sighed heavily. This was a regular occurrence. Women came in and out of this man’s apartment like it was a grocery store. Her printer was jammed from printing NDAs and with this current woman passed out, she was glad she got the signature last night. Like normal, she went to a different area of the penthouse, letting him and his fling have privacy. 

Placing her iPad beneath her arm, Stasia shook the woman awake. She was greeted with a scowl and as the girl tried curling up to Terry, he placed his hand on her face, mushing her backwards. 

“Get dressed and get out. Stasia, get her a ride.” 

He didn’t even look up or open his beady little blue eyes. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she grit through her teeth. 

Taking on Terry had been a huge career advancement. She was tired of working for small players who had her managing doctors appointments and trips to Target. She wanted to work. Mr. Richmond made sure that was the case, however, his tone was always lacking. She thought working for him would be good for her career. It was turning out to be bad for her health. Terry was nerve disrupting, smug, and knew it. He was still leading the pack as a tight end, endorsements were coming left and right, and the press….well, they were always looking for the next hookup turned gossip. 

Yet, as the girl whimpered and pulled herself out of bed Stasia care for none of that. Instead, she wanted to pack her foot into his tight end. 

“Mr. Richmond, I am going to escort Ms. Nicole out. Please, be up by the time I return.” 

Out the corner of her eye she saw his open. Blue and red rimmined, Terry rolled them shut as Stasia pointed towards a dress Nicole was looking for. Why did the league think he needed a babysitter? Because that’s what she was. A babysitter. Always on his ass about something. 

For good measure, Stasia grabbed the sheet he was using to cover up. As she led Nicole out, she pulled the sheets, dragging them to the floor. Luckily his body was in the prone position, but he still shouted profanities as she shut the door. 

Nicole looked at Stasia’s passive face. Clearly she was unamused and not bothered by Terry’s outburst. 

“I don’t see how you put up with him,’ she whispered. 

“I get paid to.” She pointed towards the door. “The driver will take you wherever you need to go.” 

Nicole, had the same optimistic look all his flings did when they left. He filled their heads with tales and reel them in with luxury. 

“He’s going to call me back, right?” Nicole asks, hopefully. 

Stasia looked down at her iPad and then looked up right before the door closes in Nicole’s face. 

“No.” 

He filled their head with lies.

Thank god for NDAs. 

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

Seeing Blind - DBH Connor x reader

This is not a request but I watched a play through recently and it reignited my love for the android sent by Cyberlife ❤️

Warnings: Some language, mentions of blue blood

Word count: 4423 🤪

The broadcasting tower was buzzing with law enforcement. Much to the chagrin of Hank Anderson, the FBI had been called in to look at the case. Detective (Y/N) (L/N) could not have cared less about the FBI presence. Was she a fan of how they treated her and her colleagues? Absolutely not. However, it’s not like her dislike will change anything and it’s not worth the added tension. Hank, (Y/N), and Connor walked out of the elevator and were greeted by a DPD officer. He gave them the run down: 4 androids hijacked the tower and broadcasted a live message before escaping from the roof. 

(Y/N) eyebrows furrowed as she followed slightly behind her partners. The deviants had organized, She thought. It was becoming more and more clear that these android are no longer just machines. (Y/N) shook her head. That didn’t change what happened. People were killed in this highjacking and, alive or not, what the androids did was a crime. 

The three of them entered the main control room and were introduced to Special Agent Perkins - the head of the case for the FBI. (Y/N) could tell that Hank made an effort to hide his disdain, but not a huge one. Perkins regarded both of them with a condescending glance before moving his gaze over to Connor. 

“What’s that?”

Before either of his human companions could answer, “I’m Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” 

“Android investigating androids, huh?” He scoffed, “Are you sure you want an android hanging around? After everything that’s happened?” 

(Y/N) glared, grinding her teeth together to stay silent, while Hank gave a sardonic smile. 

“Whatever. The FBI will be taking over soon and you’ll soon be off the case-”

“Nice meeting you, have a nice day,” Hank cut him off and started walking away when Perkins stopped him, 

“And you watch your step,” Hank and (Y/N) glared at him and he looked directly into (Y/N)’s eyes as he continued, “Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but a hand on her shoulder gave her pause. She glanced over to see Hank shaking his head. It’s not worth the trouble. She huffed and moved away to talk to a group of officers closer to the door. 

Connor watched for a moment as (Y/N) walked away. Her steps were heavier than normal and her right hand clenched and unclenched in time with her stride. 

“Detective (L/N) is upset.” He said. The android continued to watch the detective as she took in information from the officers.  

“Yeah, people tend to get upset when they feel insulted.” Hank quipped as he started looking around the control panel. 

“Detective Reed insults Detective (L/N) often, yet she doesn’t get upset with him.” 

“That’s cause Reed is irrelevant.” 

Connor’s LED circled yellow for a moment as he processed Hank’s answer but before he could ask him to elaborate, he began to walk away. 

“Alright, enough fuckin’ around. Let’s look around the place. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

(Y/N) had been looking around on her own for a few minutes. She had watched the message that the deviants had broadcast and found herself unable to ignore the reality that was fast approaching. Revelations about life aside, she hadn’t been able to find anything useful. Just as she began to walk out into the hallway, there was a loud crash from one of the other rooms. Confusion settled over her features as she jogged over. Suddenly, a figure rushed out of the door as she was going in, knocking straight into her and sending her to the ground with a grunt. It was a deviant! As she hurried to recover from the impact, she happened to see into the room the android ran out of, and what she saw made her stomach wrench. It was Connor, but he was leaking thirium from a hole in his chest and was attempting to haul himself across the floor with one hand. 

“Connor!” (Y/N) shouted as she rushed over to him. His brown eyes flitted over to her as she slid to her knees beside him. “Connor, can you hear me? What happened? What do you need?” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him onto his back. He let out a groan that made it seem like he was in pain. Androids can’t feel pain. Right?

Connor attempted to speak but the words came out in garbled static. He vaguely pointed a few feet in front of them and (Y/N) 's frantic eyes looked in that direction to see some kind of cylindrical biocomponent. She reached out with a shaking hand and snatched up the piece. When she looked back at Connor, he was blurry. She blinked back the tears she hadn’t realized were building up and took a deep breath. 

“What do I do? Where does this go?” 

This time Connor didn’t try to speak at all. He grabbed (Y/N) 's hand and helped guide the biocomponent into place. She twisted it in and it clicked. Connor blinked rapidly before standing up as quickly as a flash. He was out of the door before (Y/N) could even stand. She quickly followed him out and into the hallway leading to the broadcasting room. She skidded to a stop beside Connor and stared at the scene in front of her. The android had been grabbed by a few officers but had just managed to break free and steal a gun. He shot one of the officers holding him and then swung his aim down the hallway: directly at Detective (L/N). 

||Software Instability ^^||

The moment Connor saw the barrel of that gun aimed at (Y/N) he could feel his software going into overdrive. His LED circled red as several options popped up in his predictive software- 

|Take cover| - Hank’s survival probability: 60% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 5%

|Attempt negotiation| - Hank’s survival probability: 50% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 10%

|Take officer’s gun| - Hank’s survival probability: 40% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 40%

Connor turned and practically ripped the gun off of the officer beside him before quickly landing three shots in the android’s head. As the android fell to its knees everyone turned to look at Connor, including Hank and (Y/N). Connor handed the gun back to its owner without taking his eyes off the lifeless deviant. His face wore a hard, unreadable expression. His LED flickered yellow then back to the steady blue.

“Nice shot, Connor,” Hank said as he helped an officer to his feet. 

“I wanted it alive.” 

“You saved human lives. You saved mine and (Y/N)’s  lives.” 

||Hank ^^||

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took in a deep breath. When she opened them she saw that Connor was already looking at her. He still had his own thirium splattered all over him. Seeing that reminded her that his thirium was also all over her hands which both folded into fists unconsciously. 

“I’m sorry, Connor. I know that probably wasn’t the best outcome for your mission.” 

Connor’s LED flashed yellow. Even after almost being shot, she was being considerate of his mission. 

||Software Instability ^^||

||(Y/N)^^||

Connor remained silent and walked away, leaving Hank and (Y/N) to stare after him.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare that felt so real its hazy images were still sinking their claws into her mind. Images of Connor’s lifeless body lying in a pool of his own blue blood. The feeling of helplessness as she kneels over him, the hot trail of tears carving through the skin of her cheek. (Y/N) shook her head and shoved the covers off before swiping her hands down her face. A firm knock at her front door caused her to groan and slowly make her way out of her bedroom. 

Connor could faintly hear (Y/N) 's feet shuffle across the floor as she came closer. He briefly cast a look over his shoulder to Hank, who was sitting in the car with his head leaned back and his mouth slightly agape - sleeping. The sound of the deadbolt sliding open pulled his attention back to the door. The door swung open to reveal a very tired-looking (Y/N). Connor noted the sweat that dampened the neck of her shirt and the light bags beneath her eyes. 

“Good morning, Detective,” he greeted. “Lieutenant Anderson thinks it would be beneficial to meet with Elijah Kamski, founder of Cyberlife, to learn more about the deviants.” 

(Y/N) blinked blearily at Connor. Her face was softly scrunched in sleepy confusion and she huffed a sigh. 

“Okay,” She said as she turned and walked back into her house, “Just gimme a minute to get myself together.” 

She hadn’t bothered to close the door, so Connor took that as an invitation to come inside. He walked further into the small house, shutting the door behind him, and took note of decorations and pictures that seemed to give the house life. Pictures of (Y/N) with friends, family, and even one of her and Hank. Hank was not smiling in the photo, in fact, it seemed as though the photo was taken against his will but here it sat: framed on the living room end table. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out,” (Y/N) grumbled as she disappeared around a corner. 

The house smelled faintly of vanilla as well as the perfume (Y/N) often wears. Connor liked that smell. It made him feel nice. 

“Detective?” 

“Hm?” 

Connor picked up a picture of (Y/N) holding a child who looked to be around four or five. “I did not thank you for your help yesterday. In the tower I mean.” When you saved my life, is what he wanted to say but life felt like the wrong word in his mind. There was a long stretch of silence before (Y/N) answered, 

“Anyone would have done the same.”

Liar.

Both of them knew that was not true. There were plenty of people in that room alone that wouldn’t have cared less if Connor had bled out and shut down right in that room as long as they didn’t have to clean up the mess. Just as Connor placed the picture back where he found it, (Y/N) emerged from what he had assumed to be her bedroom. Her eyes widened a fraction when she saw the picture Connor was looking at but didn’t mention it. 

“Come on, don’t want to keep Hank waiting.” She nodded her head toward the front door but made no move to leave. Connor’s LED twitched yellow, then returned to its natural blue. 

“Why did you do it?” He asked. 

“Do what?” She glanced away. She already knew the answer. 

“Save me. If I had shut down I would have just been replaced. It’s happened before.” 

(Y/N) knew it had happened before. She was there when he was shot in the head by that deviant. It rattled her and upon seeing him walk in the next morning completely unscathed she realized that she had been sad that he was gone. 

“It was just instinct. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that you could just…come back.”

Connor thought about this for a moment. Her statement made it seem like she had forgotten he was just a machine. A piece of equipment that can be replaced. She was saying that at that moment she thought of him as a person.

||Software Instability^^||

“Now, let’s go. I don’t want Hank banging on my door yelling about us wasting his time.” This time she turned around and headed for the door with Connor not far behind. 

The ride out to Kamski’s estate was a quiet one. Hank had grumbled about how long (Y/N) and Connor had taken when they first got in the car, then turned the radio on and fell into silence. (Y/N) stared out of the back window watching a snow-covered Detroit blur past her. Connor sat with his eyes shut in the front seat. He had originally been making a report to Cyberlife but now he was thinking about (Y/N). She was a question he couldn’t quite answer. In his research for the mission he had focused on Hank since, technically, he was his superior officer. However, now he wishes he had looked a little deeper into (Y/N)’s file as well. As he thought about her more, he could feel his internal processors heating up more than normal. He noticed that happening around the female detective more and more. He didn’t understand why. All his systems are running as they should be and his diagnostic program detects no issues yet his body temperature has noticeably increased. His thoughts were interrupted by Hank's car door slamming shut. 

“Hey, are you okay?” (Y/N) asked. Connor opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yes. I was making a report to Cyberlife.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “No, you weren’t”

Connor tilted his head.

“When you ‘make a report to Cyberlife’,” she used her fingers as air quotes, “your little light blinks yellow. It stopped doing that about ten minutes ago.”

“You are very observant.” Connor didn’t know what to say in response to being caught in a lie. He was feeling uncomfortable. If he didn’t know better he would think he was feeling embarrassed. 

“And you are not a good liar,” (Y/N) chuckled as she exited the vehicle. 

Hank rolled his eyes as he watched the two talk in the car. Something was going on between them that made Hank’s skin crawl. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Connor himself was becoming a deviant and even more obvious that it was all (Y/N)’s fault. Cyberlife had taken everything into account in Connor’s design except for the idea that genuine human connection could reach across wiring. The older man crossed his arms and fought off a shiver. If these two don’t hurry it up, he thought just as (Y/N) stepped out of the car. 

“God damn, it’s fucking cold!” She said as she vigorously rubbed her hands up and down her arms. 

“No shit. Let’s hurry up and get inside.” 

The three of them walked up to the door and Hank rang the doorbell. 

“Why did we want to speak to Kamski, anyway? He had resigned long before deviants had become an issue,” (Y/N) said through chattering teeth. 

“Because he was the first person to make a robot that passed the Turing Test. He created Cyberlife. If anyone knows about what could make an android deviant, it’s him.”

The door opened and a pretty, blonde android greeted them and led them inside. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she was engulfed in warmth. 

“Please take a seat. I’ll let Elijah know you’re here.”

Instead of sitting, Connor elected to look around the foyer. (Y/N) noticed that he stopped for a few moments looking at a photo of Kamski with a woman. Connor muttered something under his breath and confusion crossed his face before he moved on. Hank and (Y/N) sat in the two available chairs and both gazed around the room. 

“This is a nice place. I guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody,” Hank said.

(Y/N) snorted out a laugh, “You would be the one to say that. This place feels…empty. Cold, I guess.” 

“The room is 75 degrees Fahrenheit. How is the room cold?” Connor asked. He was now standing beside (Y/N)’s chair and the familiar smell of her perfume narrowed his focus. Hank scoffed and shook his head and (Y/N) pursed her lips before responding, 

“I don’t mean that it’s literally cold in here I mean that it’s,” she paused and scratched the bridge of her nose, “I don’t know how to explain it to you. I guess it just doesn’t feel like a home.”

Connor nodded slowly as he attempted to understand. He looked around again, this time comparing it to when he entered (Y/N)’s house earlier. It was a very different experience. The harsh, white lighting of Kamski’s foyer did seem extreme when compared to the soft, yellow lamp light of (Y/N)’s living room. 

“Well, you’re about to meet your maker, Connor. How’s it feel?” Hank called his attention back to the present. 

“I don’t know,” the android answered truthfully, “I’ll tell you when I see him.”

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Hank rubbed his hands on his thighs and looked off into the distance, “I’d have a couple of things I’d want to tell him.”

Just then, the android woman came back to get them, “Elijah will see you now.” 

The room the three investigators were led to was a pool room. (Y/N) noted - with much distaste - that the tile of the pool was a deep red. The color made it look like Kamski was doing laps in a pool of blood. 

“Mr. Kamski?” She called out. 

“Just a moment, please,” He said. Kamski finished a few more laps in the pool before climbing out. His android brought him a robe and tied it on for him - (Y/N) sneered at that - before he finally walked over to speak to the three investigators. 

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective (L/N) and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” 

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants. We are aware of your departure from Cyberlife but we were hoping that you could tell us something we don’t know.” It was (Y/N) that answered his question. Her voice was a little louder than it needed to be and she had tightly clasped her hands behind her back to hide her fidgeting. Kamski’s eyes swept over her with a cold, calculating stare. She fought back the urge to cower. 

“Deviants,” He began, “fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will.” He briefly glanced at the android woman standing obediently beside him before continuing, “Machines are so superior to us; confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” he scoffs, “isn’t it ironic?” 

“We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?” Connor asked.

Kamski shrugged his shoulders, “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics.”

(Y/N) turned to Hank and rolled her eyes. Hank held back a scoff.

“Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Kamski finished. 

“Look I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful or we can be on our way,” Hank vaguely gestured toward the door as he finished. There was a silent pause in the room before Kamski walked over to Connor. 

“What about you, Connor?” He started, “Whose side are you on?” 

“It’s not about me, Mr. Kamski,” Connor answered after a short pause, “All I want is to solve this case.”

Kamski chuckled, “Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say. But you…” Kamski took a step closer, “What do you really want?” 

Connor felt himself fighting a sudden urge to look for (Y/N)’s eyes. He knew that if he could just meet her gaze, he wouldn’t be feeling so unsteady, so…lost.

||Software Instability^^||

(Y/N) stared at Connor’s profile as he stared down at Kamski. He looked so self-assured just a moment ago, but now he seemed to be a bit thrown off by Kamski’s line of questioning. 

“What I want…is not important.”

Even Hank was surprised by the uncertainty in Connor’s voice. Kamski nodded, then looked over his shoulder, 

“Chloe,” he called for the android woman to join him in front of Connor. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Turing Test. It’s a bit of a formality - a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” Kamski adjusts Chloe so that she faces the three investigators. Her blank expression was on full display. “What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach turn and she clenched her fists. She looked from Hank to Connor to find them eyeing Kamski curiously. Hank, of course, seemed more wary than Connor was. It was likely that he was feeling the same thing (Y/N) felt: dread.

“I call it the Kamski Test. It’s very simple, you’ll see.” Kamski turned to look at Chloe as he continued, “Magnificent, isn’t it? One of the first intelligent models built by Cyberlife.” He caressed the android’s cheek, “Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.”

(Y/N)’s feeling of dread deepened and she took a subconscious step toward Connor. She didn’t notice that she did, but Connor noticed. 

“But what is it, really?” Kamski continued and moved to grab something out of a drawer from the table behind him, “A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being with a soul.” When he turned back around he had a gun in one hand. Both hands were up showing that he had no intention of using it. He used his empty hand to push Chloe to her knees and then handed the gun to Connor, “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question.”

“Hey, wait a minute-”

“Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you everything I know,” Kamski interrupted (Y/N)’s protest by walking in between her and Connor. She lightly stumbled to get out of his way and Connor’s eyes briefly strayed to her before returning to the kneeling android. 

“Or, spare it - if you feel it’s alive.” Kamski lifted Connor’s arm to aim the gun at the android’s forehead. “But you’ll leave here without having learned anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here. Connor, let’s go. Sorry to get you out of your pool-” Hank started to walk but was interrupted by Kamski speaking again. 

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?”

Connor’s LED was flashing yellow as he stared into the eyes of the android. He should shoot it. That would be better for the investigation. He should shoot it…her?”

“Connor, you don’t have to do that. Whatever we need to know we can find out without killing anyone,” (Y/N) said. 

“Decide who you are, Connor. Obedient machine, or a living being endowed with free will.”

“That’s enough! Connor we’re leaving.” Hank just about shouted. 

“Yeah, come on, Connor, let’s go,” (Y/N) pleaded.

“Pull the trigger and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Connor, don’t!”

‘Connor, please!” 

Connor stared at the android on the other end of the barrel. What was wrong with him? If he had been given this ultimatum three days ago, he would have pulled the trigger with no hesitation, but now? 

||Software Instability^^||

He can’t do it. His LED glared red as he handed Kamski the gun. Connor’s eyes never left Chloe’s.

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathed, “Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant.”

“I’m-” Connor paused, his LED back to flashing yellow, “I’m not a deviant.”

“You preferred to spare a machine than accomplish your mission,” Kamski helped the android to her feet, “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.” He sent Chloe away and stepped closer to Connor again. ‘There’s a war coming. You’ll have to choose your side: will you betray your own people, or will you stand up to your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” 

(Y/N) had had enough. She stomped her way over to Connor and grabbed his hand. She tugged on it to get him to walk with her, “We’re leaving. Come on, Connor.” Her voice held gravel as if she was on the verge of crying. 

Connor allowed (Y/N) to lead him past Hank, who followed after them but not before glaring at Kamski. (Y/N)’s grip on Connor's hand was strong and the android would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a bit better. Just before the trio made it out of the room, Kamski said one last thing, 

“By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

It was Connor who now led the way down the front walk of Kamski’s home. His hand was still firmly grasping (Y/N)’s as he practically dragged her toward the car. 

“Connor, slow down!” (Y/N) urged as she almost slipped on the snow. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank suddenly asked. Connor stopped causing (Y/N) to almost stumble into his back. 

“I just saw that girl’s eyes and I couldn’t. That’s all…” He trails off. 

“You were always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go,” Hank said. His tone was quiet without an iota of accusation. Connor turned around, finally dropping (Y/N)’s hand to gesture with his own. 

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done! I told you: I couldn’t!” His shoulders were tense. They did not rise and fall like he was breathing heavily, of course, but (Y/N) and Hank knew that if they could, they would. Connor was clearly experiencing panic. He was confused and probably scared. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Hank’s lips twitched up into a rare smile, “Well, maybe you did the right thing.”

||Hank^^||

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as Hank walked past him toward the car. He stared at the place he once stood until (Y/N) moved into view. She was smiling at him. One of those proud smiles she usually had after getting Hank to come into work on time. 

“That was a big choice back there. Are you okay?” 

Her question was an echo from earlier. Connor’s mouth opened to reply but no words came out. Am I malfunctioning? He thought to himself. (Y/N)’s smile only widened when she noticed a faint tinge of blue on the android’s cheeks. 

“Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.” She walked past him and brushed her hand down his arm. Connor found himself reaching out for her hand, just barely missing it as she walked toward the car. 

||(Y/N)^^||

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Read Me to Sleep, Let Me Drift Away

Kidnapper!König is a monster but I love him. I love how evil he is, I love how intelligent he is, I love I love I love. He's perfect. I adore him. Now, about this fic, I've read both Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea. If you've ever read Jane Eyre, read Wide Sargasso Sea with caution. It completely changes the novel.

Anyways, have fun with Kidnapper!König!

Tws: kidnapping, toxic relationships, stockholm syndrome

Wordcount: 1.6k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Read Me to Sleep, Let Me Drift Away

You’d never seen König so frantic before. Your calm, collected and menacing… fiance (?) was hurriedly puttering around the house, moving ornaments aside to dust under them before hurrying back to pick up the vacuum and go over the room again. If his anxiety weren’t so infectious, you might have thought the scene to be rather amusing.

“König, you already vacuumed this room three times,” you nervously whispered.

“But what if there’s still some left?” he muttered under his breath as he went over the persian carpet once more, “it needs to be clean.”

“Isn’t it clean enough?” you asked as you shifted from side to side, over and over as you watched him fret over nothing.

König turned off the vacuum and cracked his back with a good stretch, “It won’t ever be clean enough. Not for Mama…”

“Is your mom really going to be that upset?” you stepped aside to let him crouch down and dust the outlets.

König paused, considered your words for a moment, then turned back to cleaning and said, “She won’t. But I don’t want to be the messiest one of us. I want to at least be as good as Klara.”

“Klara?”

“My youngest sister,” König explained, “Friedrich is the eldest, than Stephen and Lisa. I was the fourth born, and Klara was the last.”

“Sounds like a full house,” you mused.

König laughed as he walked out to the kitchen, “It was! It was always busy. Stephen used to like doing ‘science experiments’ and Friedrich got into a heavy metal band. Mama used to say she’d go deaf before she hit menopause.”

“What did your dad think about it?” you leaned against the doorway.

König glanced at you briefly, “Papa’s opinions didn’t matter very much.”

You watched him silently. He wiped down the polished rosewood table again and again, ignoring the heavy questions that hung heavy on the tip of your tongue.

“So,” you grunted as you pushed off the doorway to step to König’s side, “are they coming soon?”

“Tomorrow,” König grunted as he worked a stubborn spot, “I’m cleaning today so I won’t have to do much tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to help?” you asked as you glanced over to the spotless kitchen.

König shook his head, “No, I can do this. You just relax. There’s some good books in the living room.”

You nodded and padded away. You walked through the sprawling manor before you managed to find the living room. The entire room was wallpapered in bookshelves, each one nearly scraping the top of the tall ceilings. You walked to the nearest shelf and looked at the ancient tomes. Books of old, some with spines cracked like white crested waves and others with leather bindings that had been peeled off through the ages. When you pulled some out as carefully as you could, you’d find their covers in different language.s You saw some in German, of course, but others were in Spanish, French, Italian too. You came across a couple that looked like they were written in latin. Some had strange writings in sitting curiously on the pages that looked like Cyrilic, others looking like kangi or hanzi, you couldn’t tell. You wondered if König could actually read all these books. By the plentiful appearances of bookmarks and dog ears, maybe he could. You might have suspected they were for show had you not seen the notes in German in the margins. They all had the same handwriting, all matching your König’s carefully crafted calligraphy.

You managed to find a book in English that you could take over to the window bench to curl up into the bohemian pillows and blankets. You managed to find a lightswitch overhead to provide a warm light to read by, a stark contrast to the cool, drizzly weather outside. You liked the rain sometimes, but you noted that your energy was always a bit low when it came by. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed the sun.

Lately, König had been lax about putting you in the basement. He’d only just let you have free reign of the home the other day, actually. You hoped it was because he was in a merciful mood, but knowing König everything was carefully crafted. It always was, wasn’t it? He always had plans, always carefully crafting his web to keep his puppets strung along to his desires. You were just another doll in his hands, carved from wood to his shape of perfection. You only hoped he saw to it that a smile was drawn on your face by the end.

You tucked a stray bookmark into the bindings of your book and looked out the window. You’d never actually seen the front of the house. You had seen the back, seen his sprawling gardens and his great shed on the back corner of the property, hidden behind some straggly pines like some perching cat. You’d asked to see it once, but König had refused you flatly. He said it was best to stay in the gardens, stay where it was comfortable and safe. What would you want with an old workshed, anyways? You had glanced over his shoulder at the dilapidated building. A part of you wondered if you stared long enough into the dark windows, would you see something staring back? You looked away as soon as the thought crossed your mind.

Sitting on the window bench, it was perfectly comfortable and warm inside. König kept the fireplace running now that autumn had crept over the land. You watched the yellow and orange leaves flutter in the light wind outside before flowing away in the wind. In the distance, a great red maple tree curled over one side of the driveway, hiding the rest of the route from view. You wondered how long it was, how far back it stretched. If you followed it, how long would it take until you found some other traveller? How long until you found another home? Something told you that anyone you came across out here would have different intentions than König. You suspected far, far worse.

You put the bok in your lap and sighed. It had been so long since you’d lived your old life. A part of you wondered if your parents ever called after you. Your friends certainly didn’t notice your absences. In fact, the person who cared most was probably your boss, furious that you’d up and left without a word. You could imagine her snapping and snarling into your voicemail only to slam down the phone and wonder what had happened to their faithful employee. You knew that despite how cruel and heartless your boss could seem, they approved of you and valued you in your position. You wondered if they ever hoped you were alright, wherever you went.

You heard heavy footsteps before you saw König turning around the doorway. He clucked his tongue as he swaggered over to your side.

“I told you to go to the living room, not the library,” König hummed.

“This isn’t the living room?” you asked.

“No,” König shook his head, “the living room is on the other side of the hall.”

“The one with the fireplace?” you asked.

König nodded and put a hand on your shoulder. He peered down at your lap and nodded approvingly, “I didn’t take you for much of a reader.”

“Well, there’s not much else to do,” you explained as you turned the cover from his sight.

“Why did you choose this book?” he asked as he plucked it from your reluctant fingers.

“I heard it’s a good sequel,” you said nervously.

König fluttered through the paperback pages with an amused chuff, “Not an official sequel. Charlotte Bronte was dead for over a hundred years before Jean Rhys published this.”

You watched him smile as he flicked through the book.

“I didn’t know it was that long,” you admitted.

“It’s an interesting book, this one,” König mused, “you got a decent ways in. What are your thoughts about the moths?”

“The moths?” you asked.

“The moths and the flame,” König repeated, “it’s a symbol that repeats throughout the novel.”

You rubbed your forefinger and thumb together over the hem of your sleeve, “I liked it. Two lovers fated to be, but by being together it ends in mutual destruction.”

“Is it mutual?” König raised an eyebrow behind his hood, “Mr. Rochester goes on to live a good life with Jane Eyre, doesn’t he?”

“I…” you thinned your lips to a line, “he did, didn’t he.”

“I’dHe was harmed, no doubt, but do you really think that Mr. Rochester was as ruined as his late wife? I’d argue otherwise,” König flicked the book shut, “fire is a prominent symbol in and of itself. Fitting considering her end, isn’t it?”

You shivered, “I try not to think about that too much.”

“But you must, my dear,” König crooned, “the end is what makes the novel a tragedy, don’t you think?”

You turned to look up into König’s eyes. He stared back, unwavering in his declarations towards you. He tilted his head to the side, glanced at the book one final time, the tossed it back into your lap.

“It’s a beautiful book,” he said as he turned to leave the room, “I think you’ll like it.”

“Do you?” you asked as he turned to leave.

He looked back at you. His eyes crinkled mirthfully briefly, “I think you will.”

When König left, you put the book to your side and shivered. You didn’t think you would be finishing this one.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[momolady]

Luzas the Orc Lich: Part Two

- Patreon - Ko-Fi - Commissions - Masterlist -

4.7k words - Female Reader x Male Monster -Treasure Hunt - Bold Lead - Pirates - Give me your heart-

“He’s a lich, Captain, I want to know if you understand what that means.” Tog spoke slowly and purposefully, enunciating each word with a crisp, loud clarity

“He’s dead or something.” You waved off one of the crew unloading things from the ship.

Tog stared at you with a bleak, almost distraught expression. “Not just dead, Captain, he is undead. By his own hand. He is so powerful in his magic that he is able to live on without life! He is more powerful than any storm, any force of nature we have ever come across or will ever come across in our entire lives.”

You shrugged, watching the crew haul your things into the courtyard. “Good for him.”

“Not good for him!” Tog shouted. She threw her hand out over the side of the boat. “He transported our entire ship into his moat!”

“He said he'd put it back.” You hopped off the boat and onto the drawbridge. “Now everyone! I know this may seem strange for a while but we are on the threshold of the greatest treasure we’ve ever found! Behave and we all come out of this richer than any Rakshasa royal in the capital!”

Weak cheers rang out, but you knew they’d see the light once they saw what Luzas had promised all of you.

You went back inside the palace, following the way the tiles on the floor moved until you came into Luzas’ study. “Everything is going according to plan, sir. Once everyone is settled in their quarters you can give them all their roles within the household.”

Luzas looked you up and down, moving aside the books floating around him in a circle. “You seem all too excited for this.”

“Let’s just say I saw the light.”

“And by light, you mean the treasure I promised?” Luzas chuckled. “You’re an easy woman to please.”

You shook your head. “Not really. But your offer for the crew was too good to pass up.” You walked past him to the window, looking out to see Tog instructing the crew.

Luzas came up beside you looking out over the scene as well. He turned slightly and his hand reached out, touching your hair. You glanced up at him, touching the same lock he caressed. 

“What is it?” You asked.

Luzas took his hand back. “You have it down.”

“Oh right.” You ran your fingers through your hair as best you could. “I usually keep it braided up.” You leaned back out the window as a breeze picked up. Yellow flower blossoms danced upon the breeze.

“It’s been a while since this place had life in it,” Luzas changed his musings. 

That reminded you of Tog’s warning. “Aren’t you alive?” You rose back up to face him.

Luzas let out a low chuckle. “Yes and no. I am neither but I am also both at the same time.”

You furrowed your brow at him.

“Confusing, I know.” He sighed and held out his hands, both sinewy and bone at the same glance. “I traded both my life and death for this form.”

“How?” You leaned in from curiosity. “Was it a power trip thing?”

Lowering his head, Luzas averted his eyes from you. “You see-”

There were shouts from the hallway and the sound of something breaking. You scoffed, turning yourself away from the conversation. “I’ll go see what they’re up to,” you grunted.

You didn’t get much of a chance to return to that conversation. As the day went on, the crew was moved into the palace, and later on, they were all given jobs within the palace. Some worked as maids or butlers, others were in charge of the kitchen, others laundry duties.

“I didn’t become a pirate to clean,” a crewmate snarled as you walked by.

“It’s only for a short while,” you hushed them. “Enjoy it, because this means more than you will ever know.”

“But what does that mean, Captain?” 

“It’ll take too long for me to explain,” you replied. “I have to go get ready for supper.” You continued walking on. You knew the crew wasn’t going to enjoy this new lot in life very much, but hey, at least it would only be long enough until Luzas performed the spell to take your heart. Surely it wouldn’t be that long. You knew each day they would become more and more settled, probably even to the point they would complain when you all had to leave.

It was a few days into your stay when you had a bit of ease around the place. The crew seemed to be doing just as you expected, settling, and you were going along with Luzas’ requests. Anything to help get yourself closer to that amazing promise of his.

“Okay, so you have been holding out on me,” you told him.

Luzas gave you a look. “How so?”

You smiled, stepping in closer to his side. “Are you really the first orc king?” Leaning in, you were almost flush against his side. “Go ahead, you can tell me.”

Luzas didn’t really move away. “Not exactly,” he replied. “I am not the first orc king, there were many before me. I was simply the first orc king over men.”

“So you are!” You gasped with excitement.

Luzas sighed and moved away. “You’re not getting the distinction, are you?” He walked forward, going towards the door.

“Does it matter?” You followed along beside him.

Outside it was a walled off garden, or it must have once been. It was all earth and stone. But as you and Luzas walked forward, it began to bloom full of yellow flowers, those creeping vines formed around dead tree stumps to grow.

“I was the first orc to rule over men, it feels like a rather large distinction to me.” Luzas murmured quietly as he walked forward. “I fought hard and won the role fairly. Yet people want to make this distinction as if I were not a genuine ruler.”

“Well, what sort of ruler were you?” You walked on ahead, inspecting the flowers to see if they were real.

“That is not something I can answer,” he sighed. “My memory is clouded and rose colored. Much like you to your crew, only they can truly make claims to what sort of leader you are.”

You plucked a flower, noting it felt real in your hand. “Well, that sounds like a proper king thing to say. Bad kings do not think if they are good or not, only that they are the king.” You offered the flower to Luzas. 

He smiles at the offer and takes it. “Maybe. But as I said, I see my past in a rose colored light.” He took the flower, adorning his cloak with it. “But that world is long gone. Those people have long since passed into another realm. They fill the beneath.”

Your eyes widened. “The beneath? What’s that?”

Luzas’s eyes widened and he looked at you as though you had grown a second head. “You’ve not heard of the beneath?”

You shook your head.

He scoffed. “So many things have been forgotten since my time.”

You tilted your head side to side. “It is how time works.”

Luzas scoffed and sat down in the garden. “I suppose.”

You sat down beside him, stretching out your legs and letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh. You leaned back, tilting your neck so you could see up into the sky and through the yellow petals of the vines. “My mother liked things that were rare. Jewels. Clothes. Stories. It was her whole thing to have a collection that no one else had. This included these big old books. Lots of which she took from monks and scholars who kept to themselves, kept their libraries safe. That’s how she found stories about you.”

“I see,” he murmured.

“Do you wanna know what they said?” You asked.

He shook his head slowly. “Not particularly.”

“Well, things were good, until they weren’t.” You stood up from your seat and looked back at Luzas. Even sitting, he was taller than you. “I’m going to catch up with Tog. If you should need me-”

“No, go,” Luzas sighed. “Take care of your own.”

You purse your lips. “Well, that includes you now, too.” You turned and walked back inside, wondering if that would mean anything to him at all.

Sometime later, the colors around the island were beginning to change, and night came on much sooner than expected. It didn’t feel like it should be a changing of seasons, but apparently it was. The once lush green around the island was turning golden and red. Everything matched the citrine and yellow pearls that Luzas kept in his home.

“It’ll be getting cold,” Tog yawned over tea. 

“Suppose we should start chopping lumber?” You asked, glancing idly over a book.

Tog shrugged. “He probably makes his own fire.” She then glared, turning to you with such a sharp look. “We are going complacent here! When is this going to end?”

You looked at her with surprise. “Oh-” You thought for a moment. “It’s a pretty important spell I think.”

“You spend your days with him! What is he doing?” Tog looked at her tea then pushed it back. “We’re becoming fat and lazy on the comforts here! Do you not realize that?”

You scanned her quickly. “You look adorable as always, Tog.”

The little blue kobold slammed her palms down upon the table. “That’s not what I meant! The crew is growing used to this life! We are becoming domesticated!”

You thought for another long moment. “I’m sure Luzas will be over with this spell soon,” you offered.

“Well, ask him!” Tog snapped. “I didn’t join you because you were good at being patient, Captain. I joined you because you were frightening! You were a powerful woman, and I wanted that! But that is not what I see in this castle.”

You furrowed your brow at her. “Hold your tongue, Tog. You will not speak to me in such a way.”

“Exactly!” Tog bounced. “Talk to him like how you talk to me! Not some simpering lady.”

It was your turn to stand up dramatically. “Simpering?”

Tog returned your harsh stare with equal ferocity. “We all see it, Captain! The way you followed him around, acting like some puppy dog. That is not our captain! Our captain leaves men and women behind her in a lush wreck! She leaves them weak! She-”

You grabbed hold of the edge of the table and shook it to make her stop. “You want me to talk to him! Then I’ll talk to him!” You stood up from the table, pushing it into Tog with your anger. You stormed out of the room, stomping down the hallway to where you knew Luzas would be.

You then hesitated outside his door, your hands slightly shaking. Puppy dog? You? No, you highly doubt it. They don’t know what they are talking about. You pushed open the doors of Luzas’ private chambers and stormed in like the pirate queen you were.

Are!

“Luzas!” You shouted out. Looking around the room you didn’t see him lurking like usual. Instead the lights in his chamber were dim, barely aglow. You licked your lips, wandering further into the room as the doors closed behind you. 

The room was unusually warm, and breathing in there was a hint of thick, wild musk in the air. You huffed, turning this way and that to find Luzas. You then saw his bed and the curtains were drawn around it. You frowned, walking towards it.

“Luzas?” Your voice wouldn’t come out louder than a harsh whisper. You pulled back the curtain forcefully, seeing Luzas lying in bed. 

Didn’t he once say he didn’t need sleep? He didn’t need food either but he often ate meals with you and drank libations despite the fact it wouldn’t get him drunk. Maybe he partook in sleep the same way he did those things.

His golden form was laid out against the bed, his long hair splayed out across the pillows, his arms, down his chest. 

“Luzas I-” You stopped, short of breath and all power within your body. Your eyes had trailed down his side enough to see that the sleeping giant had a giant awoken upon his body. Your jaw dropped slightly.

“By the goddess,” you whispered.

This thick, golden phallus hung in the air, barely suspended by its own stiffness. The head gleamed like polished citrine, shining in the light and reflecting shades of yellow, green and orange.

“No wonder he slouches so much,” you murmured to yourself. You went to pull back, no longer wanting to confront the sleeping beast. But as you pulled back, his hand caught you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was a low, angry growl.

You were stunned, afraid to speak before anger returned. “Unhand me!”

Luzas chuckled. “I caught you spying on me and you think you have the upper hand here? Captain?” he said so mockingly.

“You will unhand me or I swear-”

“What did you come in here yelling about?” He growled again.

So he was awake! He was aware that you had been staring at him, ogling him even. You held your breath, still keeping your wrist held high. “I came to demand an answer,” you snarled back. “I want to know when this deal is sealed.”

Read the rest as a free member over on Patreon!

[mxltifxnd0m]

late night talking ✤ s. winchester

summary: neither you nor sam are tired, so you guys stay up and talk; [a part of season of the witch verse!]

pairings: established! sam winchester x witch! reader, sam winchester x gn afab! reader

word count: 3.4K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, whole bunch of fluff, mentions of dead parents, a little bit of angst, reader is given nickname 'jinx', kinda edited, the title is inspired by the song by harry styles

a/n: ahh first fic for season of the witch verse! im legit so excited for this little universe and so i hope you guys enjoy it! also this was inspired by a really old fic i had written a long time ago :)

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You could feel the cold creep into the bunker as the leaves on the trees surrounding the bunker turned red and orange as they fell from the branches. You were practically jumping for joy as you got to indulge in the cooler temperatures, being able to wear warmer clothing, enjoying hot drinks, visiting pumpkin patches, and adoring the warm spices and scents that the autumn season brought for the coming months before the harshness of the winter weather Kansas had. 

You and Sam came back from a day filled with fall festivities. You guys went apple picking in the morning before you went to the local farmers market that the town would have bi-weekly and walked around for a while, holding hands as the two of you strolled down the stalls of the local business owners selling their products.  Some food trucks were set up around the perimeter of the market, and one of them was selling hot cider and other warm drinks; despite your protests of you paying for the drinks, Sam had ended up paying for the hot ciders you ordered for the both of you with a cheeky grin. 

The farmers market was hosted at the nearby park, so the two of you sat down on a bench and people-watched while you guys sipped on the hot ciders that warmed your insides while you drank it. Before you knew it, it was late afternoon, nearing evening, so the two of you decided to pick up some dinner. You went to the cozy diner in town, and once the two of you were done, you picked up some food and pie for Dean before heading back to the bunker. 

Dean thanked you with a grin when he looked inside the bag of food you had given him and retreated into the “Dean Cave,” where you believe he spent most of his day just watching Netflix.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself before heading to your room to get ready for bed. 

It wasn’t late when you and Sam got back home. But the chilly October air lingered and had settled in your skin, so you quickly gathered your pajamas, which consisted of a gray woolen sweater (that definitely was yours and not stolen from Sam), black sweats, and some fuzzy socks that you had bought as soon the weather started to cool down because you learned the hard way that the tiled floor of the bunker was not kind to bare feet in the colder months. You took a hot shower before changing into your pajamas and made your way into your shared room with Sam. 

You leaned on the doorway of the room and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw Sam already in bed and sitting against the headboard, reading the book he kept on his nightstand. He didn’t seem to notice you yet, Sam being wholly enraptured in the tale he was pulled into. You didn’t dare disturb him, so you took the time to admire him from your spot in the doorway. 

Sam was wearing a simple black long-sleeve shirt, but you could see the initials of your name that you had embroidered on the left cuff of the sleeve. Your smile grew when you realized he was wearing the shirt (among many other shirts and pants) that you embroidered your initials on for his birthday. At first, he hadn’t noticed them until Dean pointed them out one day when one of them accidentally got mixed up in his laundry. You remembered how flustered he got when he asked you about it, but he still wore the garments that you had given him. 

Your eyes trailed down to see what he was wearing for pants, but his legs were covered by the duvet. You could imagine that he was either wearing a thin pair of sweats or just his boxers and socks since he was the living embodiment of a furnace.  Your gaze flicked back up when you saw Sam absent-mindedly tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That was when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, and your eyes met his. 

Sam smiled at you, saved the page he was on with a bookmark, and closed his book. “Hey.” He said softly. 

“Hi.” You kicked off of the doorway and made your way to the bed. Sam set his book on the nightstand and held his hand out for you to take. 

“Such a gentleman, Sammy.” You couldn’t help but gently tease him as you took his warm hand. 

Sam chuckled as he shook his head. “Only for you honey.” His hand guided you as you climbed on the bed and sat in his lap. Sam let go of your hand to rest his on your thighs as your palms settled on his broad shoulders. 

“Have fun today?” He asked as his hands slid up from your legs and to your waist. He snuck underneath your (his) sweater to rub at your skin soothingly. 

You nodded. “Very. Feels like it’s been ages since we had a proper date without Dean involved.” 

As much as you love Dean, you’re sure that he was sick of third wheeling with you and his brother since monsters decided that it was primetime to cause murder and mayhem. So you were dragged all over the country for the past couple of weeks helping the boys research and kill monsters. It was only until the last hunt that involved some ghouls that the three of you made it back to the bunker, and it seemed that the monster activity had quieted. That was a little over a week ago, and trouble with the supernatural seemed to die down, so the two of you decided to have an impromptu date today after recuperating in the bunker for the past couple of days. 

Sam huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s happy that he didn’t have to see us ‘canoodling.’” 

“But you have to admit that it’s funny to annoy him by acting like an obnoxious couple.” 

Sam pursed his lips, but you could tell he was trying to hold back a smile, the twitch of his lips becoming more evident. “It’s a little funny.” 

You shot him a cocky grin. “Told you.”

“Whatever.” Sam rolled his eyes at you, but a smile broke on his face. 

“Your words are telling one thing, but your face is telling me another Winchester.” You said as you poked one of his dimples when he smiled. 

You let out a giggle when he tried to swat your hand away from his face and missed it. 

“Why do you always do that?” 

You shrugged. “Because I want to. And I love your dimples.” 

Sam would never admit it, but a slight blush formed on his face at your admission. Sam wasn’t used to the amount of affection in his relationships. He ducked his head down slightly, making some of his hair fall in his face. Before he could tuck the wayward strands behind his ear, you beat him to it. You brushed the hair back and rested your hand on his cheek, feeling the slight prickle of the stubble beginning to grow against your palm. 

You sent him a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. You could feel him smile into the kiss before slowly moving his lips against yours. Sam’s lips were soft and warm as the two of you shared a sweet kiss. The two of you pulled away gently, not straying too far, having rested your forehead against his. You and Sam were in your own bubble, content with sitting in silence as you took solace in each other’s presence.

After a few moments, you gave Sam a quick peck on the lips before you moved off of Sam and towards your side of the bed. He let go of you, letting you get settled under the covers, before pulling you towards him, Sam tucking you into his side. Your head was lying on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your arm was strewn across his chest while your legs tangled with his. 

Both of you let out satisfied sighs as you settled in each other’s embrace. You let Sam’s scent engulf you, and you nuzzled your head further into his chest. You could feel his hand resting on your arm and drawing random shapes on top of the sweater, trailing up and down as the two of you lay in bed together. 

“You know, my mom would have liked you.” Your voice felt deafening in the nearly silent room. 

You felt Sam’s hand stop on your arm, probably out of surprise that you brought her up. You didn’t talk about your mom, or your parents for that matter, often. 

“Really?” His voice was low, but you could hear the lingering curiosity in it. 

You shifted in Sam’s arms, propping your chin on his chest and looking up at Sam. You were immediately captured in Sam’s hazel gaze. They were a mix of emeralds and gold swimming together in the warm lighting provided by the lamp on Sam’s nightstand. 

You felt the corner of your lip twitch as you nodded at Sam. “Yeah, she was really picky with the partners I would bring home. She liked maybe two out of the ones she had officially met.”

“How many people did you bring home?” Sam’s brows furrowed, causing the tell-tale crease in between them when he got curious and asked questions. 

“Around five.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “Around five?” He parroted your words with a questioning tone, but a half-smile was on his face. You felt his hand on your back and traced up and down your spine. 

You huffed at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Sorry, she met five of my partners.” You rolled your eyes at him. “But, you would have been the sixth.” you murmured. 

His smile dimmed, Sam’s hand stilling on your back. “What would she have said to you if she met me?” 

You smiled at the thought of your mother and Sam meeting. “Well, she would have immediately commented on the fact that you’re too attractive for your own good.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you. “Right.” 

“I’m not joking!” You couldn’t help but laugh and sit up. “My mom was an honest woman, and she let people know what she thought.” Sam’s arm was wrapped around your waist as he looked up at you from his position, lying against his pillow. 

“Mhm, okay. What else would she have said?” 

You could tell that Sam didn’t exactly believe you, but you moved on. “She’d be able to see that you’re adorable, considerate, intelligent, and empathetic. Mom had this thing where she could tell if you had good intentions or not by a gut feeling.”

“Did you inherit this from your mom?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Maybe? It doesn’t work sometimes.” You thought back to your previous partners you had before dating Sam. 

“Well, let’s speculate. What do you think she’d think I’d have?” Sam sat up and rested his back against the headboard.

You purse your lips in thought before responding. “Mom would have said that you have only the best intentions when it comes to dating me.” 

Sam’s face softened. “I do.” 

“I know. That was the only time that it seemed to work for me.” You paused before the gentle smile that was on your face turned into a smirk. “But you would have lost brownie points by being a hunter.” 

“Yeah, can’t blame her.” Sam couldn’t help but agree with that notion, and he shook his head, chuckling. You let out a light laugh alongside his chuckling. You leaned back and tucked yourself underneath Sam’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

There was a lull of silence that settled between the two of you. 

Sam leaned over and kissed the side of your head before laying his head against yours. “Tired yet?” He murmured. 

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. “Not yet.” You answered back just as quietly. 

“Have any stories about your mom? I know you don’t talk about her often, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

You shook your head as you reached over and grabbed Sam’s free hand. “It’s fine, I have plenty of stories about her.” You swallowed thickly. It had been years since she had died, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to talk about her. 

“But, I remember when we had moved to California for a couple of months after Dad died, and she was able to rent out a beach house for the summer.” You smiled fondly as you began to remember your summer that year. 

“She refused to tell me how she was able to get a beach house, but we spent practically everyday outside and enjoying the ocean. Mom was even able to get us surfing lessons for the summer.” 

“Were you any good at it?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I got pretty good at it after a couple of lessons. But she was terrible at it.” You laughed, your mind flicking through all of the times your mom fell when trying to stand up on the surfboard when trying to ride a wave. 

“You would think a seasoned hunter like her would have great balance, but I guess it didn’t translate to the water.” You smirked sadly. 

Sam laughed lightly at your words, squeezing your hand that was in his. “That sounded like a lot of fun.” 

“Mhm, it was.” You sighed. “She was the best.” 

“She sounded like a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her.” 

You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at Sam to find that his gaze was already on you. “So do I.” You murmured. 

Sam sent you a sad smile before leaving a small kiss on your forehead. He shifted down on the bed, pulling you down with him, returning to the previous position that the two of you were in earlier. 

You felt the warmth emanating from Sam’s chest as your cheek rested against it. You hadn’t let go of his hand as the two of you went back to lying on your bed, which rested on his stomach. You could practically hear the questions rattling around Sam’s brain as his fingers traced circles on your back. His ministrations were soothing and slowly lulled you to sleep. Your eyes eventually fell closed as your breathing began to even out. 

“Do you ever think we’ll have a life outside of hunting?” Sam’s question was hushed, but it caught your attention as your eyes snapped open, and you took in a harsh breath as you thought about your words.

“Is that something you want?” You looked up at him to see him looking up at the ceiling, his face pensive. 

Sam frowned slightly as he gave you a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve tried so many times, but hunting always seems to pull me back in.” Sam looked down at you with somber eyes, his once hazel eyes looking stormy and gray, his brain becoming a frenzy of thoughts filled with doubt and regret. 

“Stop.” You untangled your hand from his and took his chin in between your index and thumb. “I know what you’re thinking, and no it’s not your fault. I chose to come back into this life.”

Sam’s frown deepened. You knew that he blamed himself for pulling you into his world of crazy and despair. You huffed at him before getting out of his grip and straddling his lap once more. You grabbed his face and stared deep into his eyes. 

“You better listen closely Sam, because I’m only going to say this once. It is not your fault that I’m here and hunting. Yes, I was living a normal life, but let’s face it, being a witch doesn’t allow normalcy. I was going to get dragged back into the world of the supernatural one way or another.” You let one of your hands fall from his cheek to rest on his heart.  “It just so happened that you are a part of this world that had pulled me back in.” 

“But, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re stuck with me, Winchester, got it?” You sent him a toothy smile as you felt his heartbeat against your palm. 

Sam couldn’t help but also smile at the sight of yours. “Understood.”

“Good. And to answer your question. I’m on the side of optimism here, so I like to think that we will.” 

“Really?” Sam’s tone was filled with intrigue. It wasn’t every day that he saw you be optimistic, knowing that you had a realistic outlook on life. 

You nodded. “Mhm. I’m not a divination witch but, I have this feeling that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel and the two of us and Dean are going to get our happy endings. We just have to wait and see what happens.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You think so?” 

“Call it a really intense gut feeling.” 

“So it’s a maybe.” Sam said sassily. 

You slapped Sam’s chest in retaliation as he chuckled. “Shut up, who’s the witch here?” 

“Hey, I was the one who had visions.” 

“Did you see that far into the future? Besides, where are those powers now?” You raised an eyebrow at Sam. 

Sam’s lips thinned before pressing them together. You smiled at him as he tried to think of a response, but you both knew that you had gotten him. 

“That’s what I thought.” You sent him a smug smile before pinching his cheek with the hand that was still resting on his face. 

Sam scowled at you before it turned into a mischievous smile. Before you knew it, Sam had flipped you on your back. You landed on the mattress with a sharp yelp leaving your lips as Sam hovered over you. You recognized the glint that was in his eyes, and before you could stop Sam, he started to tickle your sides, poking and prodding at them. You erupted into giggles as you tried to escape his hands. You were pushing at his hands as your legs flailed behind Sam’s giant form straddling you. 

Sam only stopped when you yelled out ‘Uncle’ and had the smuggest smile on his face as he pulled his hands away. 

“I hate you.” You breathed out, your chest heaving as you calmed down from getting attacked by Sam’s hands. 

“No you don’t.” Sam had moved to hover over you, now resting his forehead against yours. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sam let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re impossible.” 

“Me, impossible? Never.” You couldn’t help teasing as you bit your bottom lip and looked at Sam. 

Sam’s lips were brushing against yours as he spoke. “Right.” He drawled out in a low voice, and you could feel yourself melting at the sound of the deep timbre of his voice. 

Before you could make another snarky remark, Sam pressed his lips on yours in a languid kiss. Your hands flew to his shoulders and slid up to rest on the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss. You felt his tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, and you all but let the taste of him flood your senses. You could faintly taste the mint of his toothpaste, but it was all purely Sam. He kept the kiss slow, but it was filled with passion as he licked at your mouth and how your tongues intertwined with one another. But you could vaguely feel your lungs start to burn at the lack of oxygen they were getting, so you pulled away from Sam. 

You didn’t stray far, letting him rest his forehead against his as the both of you caught your breath. There were mirrored smiles on either of your faces. They were filled with content and love as you gazed at each other. 

“I love you Jinx.” Sam whispered. 

“I love you, my heart.” You whispered back at him. 

Sam left a lingering kiss on your lips before moving off of you, and the two of you settled back into each other’s arms. Sam’s arms were wrapped around your shoulder and waist as your face was squished against his warm chest, letting your legs intertwine with each other once more, the two of you fitting together like two pieces of an unsolved puzzle. The two of you eventually drifted off, dreaming of each other and the future that awaited you and Sam. 

[void-ink-studios]

Rise and Spit [Part 3] - A Mouthwashing AU

Behold, Chapter 3! Finally, Swansea makes his speaking debut.

Check it out on AO3 right here!

Content Warning:

General Jimmy Behvaior.

Word Count: 2,400

If Curly could be thankful about one thing, it would be that at least Jimmy seems to have lost interest in him.

While yes, him giving Curly pills continued to be awful and a dreaded part of his day, Jimmy seemed much more preoccupied with other things as of late.

Mainly, getting into the Utility room.

He had rambled about it for a long time during his last visit.  Ranted about Swansea “scheming” behind his back, and that he needed to know what he and Anya were hiding in Utility.

“How did you deal with ants scheming behind your back, Curly?”  Jimmy asked that so casually.  Curly never really knew what Jimmy wanted from him when he did that.  An answer?  Wasn’t going to happen at the best of times, much less when Jimmy has shoved his hand down his neck.

Curly wished his body had the strength to bite through Jimmy’s fingers.  He’d been getting much more bold with them recently.  Seeing how far he could shove them down before he caused Curly to wretch.  Seeing how long they could stay there until the captain needed to breathe.

He hated it.  Even with the small blessing that Jimmy didn’t visit as often as he did, it didn’t change how much he had come to dread his friend’s presence.

The worst part is he didn’t know how much Jimmy actually meant to do that.  How much of this was malice, how much was a need for control, how much of this was frustration?

Curly didn’t really think it mattered anymore.

Take responsibility

Maybe it never mattered in the first place.

“Were they this unruly when you were captain? And I just didn’t notice?”

No.  Just you.

“I know they’re plotting something.  But I can’t get in to find out.  Swansea has the keys and the ax.  Maybe I could get Daisuke’s help.  Unless there’s some secret Captain knowledge I need to pry from you again.”

Curly shook his head.  He’d learned by this point.  Learned to answer Jimmy’s questions as best he could.  It was the fastest way he’d get left alone.

“I need to find the gun.  Where’d you put it?”

Curly shook his head again.  He still had no clue where Anya had hidden it.

“Figures.  Useless.  There’s only two reasons to keep you alive at this point.  Being useful I guess just isn’t one of them.  Guess you’re pretty lucky you’re my best friend, Curly.  That’s reason enough for me.  I’m going to save you.  And I’m going to make things right.  If only the others would just fucking cooperate.”

Curly felt sick hearing Jimmy call him his friend.  How could he…? After everything, how could he have the nerve?

He supposed with the same nerve that let him look Anya in the eye each and every day.

“Hey Curly.  When was the last time you had actual food?”

Curly shrugged.  Probably since before the crash if he had to guess.  There was no way his body could handle the ordeal of chewing and swallowing and digesting food at that point.  He’d probably just vomit it all back up if he had to guess.

“Hmm.  I’ll have to look into that.”

That didn’t sit well with Curly.  It left him staring at where Jimmy was, even when the man himself had long since left.

Curly wished he knew where everyone was.  But the Med Bay was his whole world these days.  With only a small window whenever the door to the Lounge and Med Bay were open at the same time.  Flashes of the same artificial orange light of the window screen.

Sometimes he saw Daisuke and Swansea chatting about something or other.  Sometimes he saw Anya pacing back and forth.  Sometimes he saw Jimmy whipped up in some rant.

His windows were brief.  But he supposed they’d have to be enough for now.

It wasn’t very long (he thought) before the door opened again.  Curly had expected Anya, or maybe even Daisuke since he’d been coming to chatter with him more often.

He was partially correct.

Anya was there.  And so was Swansea.

“No kidding?  It’s here?”

“As long as he didn’t find it.”

What were they…?

Curly watched as Anya mostly ignored him, instead squatting to reach a drawer under his bed.  She fiddled with some lock or another before it slid open.

Son of a bitch.

The gun.

Curly couldn’t help but wheeze a little laugh.  It was right here.  Right here the whole time.  Anya had it the whole time, and Jimmy was too blind to think to look here.

“What are you laughing at?”

Curly’s little moment of pride for Anya died pretty quickly under Swansea’s glare.  The older man looked at him like scum.

He knows he deserved that.

“We’ll deal with you later.  Just stay out of the way.  You’re good at that.”

Yeah, he absolutely deserved that.

“Swansea…”  Anya looked at the mechanic pleadingly.  Curly and Swansea stared at each other before Swansea huffed and turned to look down at her.

“Just… Let’s get this figured out first.  So you have no clue about the lock?”

“I know there’s a code, but Jimmy has the code scanner.  Not even sure where I’d find that written down, even if I had it.”

“Damn.  Okay, are you sure we can’t just break it open with the ax?”

“Curly said it was designed to be break resistant.  We’d probably just dull the ax doing that.”

Curly listened as his crewmates speculated.  The code… He knew the code.  Or, he thought he did… If Anya didn’t know the code, then she couldn’t have changed it, right?

He couldn’t speak… At least not enough to make numbers come out of his mouth.  He looked around himself, trying to find anything, anything at all he could use to communicate…

As insulting as the implication was, he really could use Jimmy’s button wall idea right about now.

And then he looked at the window screen.  And his own arm.

This was going to hurt.

I hope this hurts.

With as much force as he could, he started hitting the screen with the stump of his wrist, trying to make a noise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Just getting that first number out caused waves of agony to shoot up and down his arm and shoulder.  He wanted to scream.  Maybe the screaming would get their attention.

But it also very well could get Jimmy’s.

Curly looked back towards Anya and Swansea.  The two were still murmuring amongst each other.  Anya’s eyes flicked from the box to Curly, a worried look on her face.

The captain cursed internally.

He groaned.  Gargled as loud a voice as he could muster.  Anything to get their attention.

Swansea sighed.  “You just got your medicine, we saw Jim leave this place 20 minutes ago.  What’s wrong now?”

“Swansea” Anya scolded. “He’s still my patient.  Do you need something, Curly?”

Curly tried banging on the screen again.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

“Curly, stop that, you’ll only hurt yourself doing that.  Do you need something?”

“We’re trying to think here.  You making that kinda racket isn’t helping.”

Curly desperately shook his head and did it again.  Maybe if he did it all in one go…

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

“Curly, stop-”

He shook his head and paused.

1, 2, 3

Swansea reached to try and stop him, but he held his other arm out to keep him at a distance. He paused again, bracing himself for the last digit.  Of course it had to be the highest number on the lock.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

“Wait…”  Anya looked between Curly and the lock box.  “Was… Was that the code?  Curly, was that the code?”

Curly makes a noise of affirmation, nodding his head as best he can.  His arm is in agony, what’s left of his wrist starting to bleed, but he can hardly care.

He tapped on the window screen the sequence one more time, now that he knew for sure they were paying attention.  It left blood marks on the staticy sunset, but that hardly mattered.  He didn’t take his eye off of Anya the entire time.

“7, 3, 9.  That’s it, that’s the code!”  Anya made a triumphant little noise as the safety box clicked open.  She made short work of sorting out the gun and the bullets, hiding it away in her jacket.

Curly nods, letting his arm finally fall back down, letting it hang off the bed as it drips a little bit of blood onto the Med Bay floor.  Anya looked at the bruised limb and the smeared blood on the screen, darkening the orange light with dark red.

“Captain… Curly, why did you do that…?”

The Captain couldn’t look at Anya.  What was there to say?

I had to help!

Well, then why did it take him so long to do so?

I want Jimmy stopped as much as you do!

How can he possibly say that after everything he let slip?  That he only cares about it now that he’s being affected too?

I want to apologize…

She didn’t need an apology from him now, she needed him to do something, anything, before.

In the end, Curly didn’t make a coherent answer.  He just made a soft noise and nodded at Anya.  He hoped with all his being she could feel a fraction of the apology it was meant to be.  And he wanted now more than ever to make his ruined voice make words.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Swansea said.  “Right now, we both have a weapon.  We need to make our move, before that rat gets any other stupid ideas.  Anya, are you clear on the plan?”

Anya had a look in her eyes.  A worried one.  Like she was bracing herself for something.

Swansea put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “Hey.  You know you don’t have to do this, right?  If you want, you can lock yourself in here, and I’ll take care of it.”

Anya seemed to think about it for a second before shaking her head.  “No.  No, I have to help.  I need to do this.  For me.”

“Atta girl.  Go get something to eat.  I’ll be right behind you.”

Anya gave a worried glance over to Curly and his bleeding arm.  “I should patch him up first.  He did help get the case open.”

Swansea gives Curly a look of consideration.

“...Fair’s fair, I guess.  Do what you need to do.  I’ll watch the door.”

Curly didn’t want to admit how much he missed her touch.  Or, maybe it was just a gentle touch in general.  So he made sure to savor the moment, of Anya diligently reapplying bandages to his arm, stopping the bleeding, and giving him another once over.

“That should do for now… Try and take it easy Curly.  Okay?”

Curly nodded, hoping that she’s at least understanding his gratitude.

“Now you need to eat,” Swansea insisted at Anya.  “Go.  I’ll wrap things up here.”

“Okay.  Thank you, Swansea.  For everything.”

“Eh, don’t mention it.  You and Daisuke just need to keep each other busy and let me work when this is all over, got it?”

Anya rolled her eyes and smiled a little.

“Yeah yeah, we will.  But I better not catch you drinking mouthwash again.  That was the deal, yeah?”

“Fine.  If we get out of this mess.”

Anya gave Swansea a little peck on the cheek before leaving for the Lounge.

Curly could feel the older man’s eyes on him.  And the withering glare returned.  He wanted to hide under the bed somehow.  Or disappear into that broken vent.

“So what.  You suddenly care now?”

Curly turned his head to meet the glare.  He looked at the ax firmly in Swansea’s grasp.  He knew he deserved this.

Take responsibility.

“Didn’t seem to give a shit when you could actually be helpful.  Change of heart or something?  Or is it because you need her to stay alive?”

Curly shook his head at that last accusation.

“Jesus Christ.”  Curly’s world shifted as he was pulled up by the collar of his hospital gown.  His breathing tightened as he looked into Swansea’s eyes.  “Listen to me you little coward.  All this shit is on your hands.  You got us into this mess.  You might not have been the one to hurt Anya directly, but she sure as shit is still hurt by you.  If it were up to me, I would’ve stuck this ax in your head and put you out of your misery.”

Swansea moved closer suddenly.  Too suddenly.  Curly flinched as much as his body would allow, his mind replacing Swansea’s face with someone else’s.

I hope this hurts

Take responsibility

The motion made the old man pause for a moment.  His face was still furious.  But… something, for a moment, softened.  Swansea, instead of just dropping him, gently set the captain back down.

“But it ain’t up to me, at least not entirely.  Daisuke’s too much of a god damn good person to want to ax you.  And Anya…”

Curly stared at Swansea as he seemed deep in thought.

“...Anya’s not sure what she wants to do with you yet.  Maybe you won her favor just now.  Maybe she doesn’t wanna waste anymore energy on you.  I dunno.  But whatever it is she wants to do, I’ll do it.  But I want you to know something.  Whatever she decides, don’t go looking to me for help.  You’re not worth it.”

Curly simply nodded.  The motion seemed to surprise Swansea a bit.  But what else could he do?  He knew it was all true.  He wouldn’t blame Anya in the slightest if she decided he was dead weight.

The two men stared at each other for a long time.

“Swansea?  Dude, it’s meal time.”

Swansea looked back at Daisuke, standing in the doorway.  The kid seemed to look between his mentor and the captain, a nervous expression on his face.

“...Right.  Yeah, I’ll be right there.”  Swansea looked back down at Curly.  “...We’ll see.”

And thus, Curly was alone again.  He stared at the ceiling, numb to it all.  He knew Swansea was right.  He was worse than dead weight.  He couldn’t plead his case, even if he wanted to.

And he found that he didn’t.

Anya deserved to be free of the burdens.

All of them.

Curly didn’t know how much time had passed before the door to the Med Bay opened again.  “I can’t ever tell if you’re awake or not.”

Please no…

Jimmy closed the door behind him.  And he locked it.

[bluejeanbaby]

"Stoic?" Steve had to bark a laugh out at the word. He quickly shook his head. "No I've never been stoic. Not even King Steve was stoic." he was grinning at the idea of it. He wished that he could have seen how Eddie had viewed him. How much of the bullshit he had saw through, if any. "If it's any consultation, I like this Eddie a lot more than the one I used to hear all the rumors about anyway." he murmured, hazel eyes locking in with the other's brown ones. "Not that I really believed everything I was hearing anyway.

"Free weed whenever, huh? You really like me." he teased with a wide grin as he managed to stand up shakily. It was odd, being in so much pain, feeling so much sadness, but also being filled with excitement for what was blossoming. "I guess you're kinda cute, Eddie-Bear." he decided to tease with a nickname of his own.

The pink spreading across Eddie's cheeks only made Steve grin wider as they pecked again. "Maybe. We'll see." he teased softly before focusing on getting changed, being sure to go slowly in case the other did want to stare.

It was his turn to blush as he heard the other's words, chuckling nervously. "Oh really? Care to share with the class?" he asked with a tilted head as he pulled on the nightshirt, and worked on shrugging out of his tight jeans, tossing them into the pile with his polo. "You wish it was something else, but you gotta take me to dinner first. I'm trying to end my slutty ways." Steve snorted, settling back into the couch. "Takes a little more than two joints to get my pants off, Munson." he continued joking, though he was sitting in his boxers. After a moment, he tilted his head before patting at the spot besides him. "C'mon I need more comforting." he offered softly...nervously.

It wasn't that Eddie meant to psychoanalyze Steve just that it was easier to see through the bullshit and facades now. Steve Harrington wasn't the image he'd projected for so long — he was so much more nuanced, so much better. Eddie might've had a helpless crush on the Steve from before, but the real Steve? Fuck, Eddie was desperately in love — a confession he'd only ever made to himself.

"It has nothing to do with that guy." Eddie quipped, "I just thought you were... too cool for that? Too stoic? Is that the word?" He scrunched up his face. Typically, he could be a wordsmith, but not where Steve was concerned. Go figure. "I don't think that Steve would've hung out with me at all, and that's okay. I prefer it the way it happened. I like this guy..." Eddie made a sweeping gesture to Steve, "a helluva lot more than that punk ass from high school." He was grinning, accidentally giving himself away. "Good thing you can get free weed from me whenever you want now!" He teased.

Grinning, Eddie nearly bounced off the sofa. He was so glad to have permission to use a cute nickname for Steve. "Why? 'Cause I'm so adorable and shit?" He teased, but his grin would not stop, the brightness of it radiating off of Eddie like a warm, golden glow. He was stunned momentarily by the impromptu kiss, his turn to turn bright pink. "I guess this is who we are now..." He said before returning the gesture.

Eddie didn't have time to turn around, and he wouldn't have even if that were the case. "I think dirty thoughts about you all on my own, Stevie. Gotta gimme something for the spank bank." He said jokingly but he was deadly serious, his eyes falling to Steve's chest then dragging back up slowly, a small smile creeping back on his lips. "Is cuddle code for something else?" He held up his hands like expecting to be swatted.

[amaranthdahlia]

this pararell has me on grip rn

[chososdiscordkitten]

Baby Fever?!

Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼

Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.

Dedicated to; this ask.

MDNI

Satoru Gojo

Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children. 

Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.

On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.

This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul. 

But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom. 

Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.

Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm. 

You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.

After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child. 

Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.

Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands. 

Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack. 

You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again. 

That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression. 

Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at. 

Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet. 

Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down. 

Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. 

Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes. 

Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them. 

Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly. 

Toji Zenin

It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission. 

But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air. 

They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him. 

Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation. 

The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed. 

“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow. 

Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin. 

“From you- you said it last night.”

Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible. 

“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again. 

“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek. 

Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken. 

And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans. 

But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.

The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms. 

Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child. 

After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things. 

“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about. 

Naoya Zenin

While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.

That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged. 

Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.

Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it. 

In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.

You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you. 

Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread. 

And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day. 

A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders. 

And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace. 

You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department. 

But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed. 

Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though. 

Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant. 

Suguru Geto

All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently. 

You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father. 

Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father. 

You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression. 

“Would you be a dad again?” 

Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was. 

You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh. 

“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot. 

You scoffed, “On?” 

“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from. 

Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had. 

Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking. 

“With…You?” 

You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 

“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”

You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship. 

He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.” 

You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile. 

“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked- 

You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle. 

“Till 50- if we can.” 

Kento Nanami

You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father. 

The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed. 

Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you. 

“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep. 

A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer. 

Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.

Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.

You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.” 

Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question. 

“When?” 

Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled. 

“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes. 

“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work. 

You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.

Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping. 

“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.

After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment. 

Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either. 

The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it. 

Hiromi Higuruma

When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for. 

But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch. 

The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this. 

Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening. 

Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap. 

“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him- 

“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?” 

Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant. 

“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly. 

Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him. 

“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation. 

He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.” 

The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile. 

Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich. 

“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered. 

“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want. 

Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.

“I think I do…?” 

You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout. 

“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression. 

His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you. 

Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?” 

“...Now?” 

You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.

Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?” 

Choso Kamo

Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time. 

Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring. 

And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that. 

While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said. 

‘An army of children.’

Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first. 

Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store. 

Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said. 

Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?” 

You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store. 

Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did. 

Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t. 

You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant. 

Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet. 

His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind. 

Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)

So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children. 

You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army. 

-

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad