#that's staying in the trunk where it belongs

[cyarikaplease]

in the middle of the night, in my dreams

din djarin x f!reader

chapter two: the fall

summary: As you research what these strange occurrences could mean you wonder... What if the strange man in your dreams is a symbol of death?

You

The past few rotations have been the same; wake up, go to work, come home, hastily finish your chores, and go to bed. It’s all the same. Except for one thing.

The brown eyes. And who they belong to.

The first dream you had when you saw the man sitting across from you at the cantina was just the beginning. In the next dream, you were on a snowy planet, the wind biting your face and stinging your eyes.

And then you saw it again; saw him again. He was in the distance just over the horizon. As he got closer you noticed that the bitter temperature and the harsh wind made his face flushed and his hair tousled. But one thing stayed the same of course— his eyes.

You woke up before anything else happened, recording what you saw and what you remembered before continuing another day as normal. It’s been a similar pattern lately, have an ominous dream, see the man, the eyes, the face, and wake up.

One dream you had was quite short. You were wandering in a marketplace on a planet you didn’t quite recognize. And then something happened that hasn’t happened so far. You were face to face with the mysterious man. In fact, he almost ran right into you. But before either of you could say anything, you woke up, scratching your head and trying to record all that you saw quickly before you forgot. Now that you saw him up close and personal, you noticed that he’s wearing all black, something that you don’t quite know how to interpret.

That brings you to tonight. You’re getting ready for bed, hoping to have a similar dream, or at least one that can maybe explain all this. You can only hope.

Your subconscious is running wild. Your senses are overwhelmed with things you can see, feel, smell, and hear. But there’s something about this dream so far that’s not like the other ones— you’re aware you’re in a dream. You look above you where the sun is peeking through the treetops. The trees tower over you, making you feel small. And there’s a light breeze, a comfortable one, shaking the branches and whistling softly. There are no living things in this dream, at least that you can tell so far. You’re alone but it feels nice. It feels like a vacation from the monotonous life you live.

And so you sit on a fallen tree trunk, taking in your surroundings and admiring the beauty that you don’t have in the tunnels on Sullust. Maker, how you’d kill to experience this in real life, to feel the sun on your face, to feel the wind kiss your skin, to smell the scents of nature around you. Perhaps these are real places, real planets that exist. Perhaps they’re a figment of your imagination. Either way, you decide that you should remember all that you can about these places and research them at the library.

This feeling of bliss doesn’t last long because out of the corner of your eye, you spot him. You’re not really sure what to expect of him. You’ve barely had any form of real interaction. You meet his gaze and before you can speak he shouts, “Hey!” running towards you at full speed, dodging the rocks and branches littered on the ground. Something shiny catches your eye and you realize that he has a blaster attached to his belt. His hand grazes it as he runs toward you.

You can’t do this anymore. You have to wake up. This man is a threat. Hurry. Wake up. Wake up NOW.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up!!!

You open your eyes to the dull gray ceiling yet again, rolling over groggily to grab your journal. Your hands shake as you write down the details of the dream, terrified that the man you keep seeing is a threat.

You realize… he’s wearing all black. He only has a blaster with him and nothing else. As soon as he saw you, he sprinted straight towards you.

He’s wearing all black.

Could it be Death following you in your dreams?

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t know anyone else who’s dealing with something like this, let alone anyone that you can even talk to about your situation. All you can do is research at the library like you decided in your dream. And hope that there’s something that contains an answer.

Din

He wakes up gasping, feeling like he just ran a marathon. This is the fourth time he’s seen you in his dreams. Now that he’s seen you up close, he realizes he’s seen you before, but the context is still a mystery. Everything about you is a mystery. Except this time he saw how scared you were, how your eyes filled with fear.

…Maybe running towards you with a blaster on his hip was a bad idea.

But what does it all mean? Who are you? And why are you haunting his dreams?

He sits up and groans at himself in frustration. It’s been a few rotations since he captured the bounty, Kaba Baiz. Karga was right and the guild master here had information that led him to the Mandalorian covert. The Armorer declared him an apostate for removing his helmet when Grogu left with the Jedi. He’ll have to go to Mandalore to redeem himself in the Living Waters. He’ll get there eventually, but there are some things he needs to address first.

Like these strange dreams.

Perhaps he can ask the Armorer before leaving Glavis Ringworld.

He heads back down to the lower sublevels of the space station like he did a few rotations ago. He anxiously hopes that the Armorer will actually speak to him still. He should’ve asked her this before he was declared an apostate.

He enters through the door and walks down the bridge, inching closer to the small covert. The Armorer is working over the forge, Paz Vizsla standing off to the side. Their helmets turn towards him as he enters, an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

“What do you want, apostate?” Paz snarls.

“I came here to seek answers.”

“About?” The Armorer asks.

“These dreams I’m having.”

She sets down whatever she’s working on and turns towards Din, cocking her helmet to the side.

“I never used to remember them. I wake up remembering some small details every time. But now I keep seeing the same person.”

“What person?”

“A woman.”

“I see.”

“Do you have any idea what it all means?”

After a small sigh, she says, “No. I don’t. Perhaps you’ll be better off talking to a Jedi.”

“A Jedi?”

“They’re better suited to help you with your… unique situation than I am.”

“Thank you,” he says awkwardly, the unwelcome feeling settling in.

He turns and leaves, feeling their stares burn a hole into him as he walks away. He got the message loud and clear— stay away from us.

In due time I’ll be redeemed, he tells himself. Just enough to keep himself sane while he embarks on this little side quest.

Stowed away in the Razor Crest is the armor that the Armorer made for Grogu. He’ll travel to Osuss where he’s training with Luke to give it to him. He figures that while he’s there he can ask Luke or Ahsoka about the strange dreams he’s having. Two birds, one stone as they say.

Surely, one of them will help him, right?

He doesn’t sleep at all on the way to Osuss. He’s anxious for a cocktail of reasons; to see Grogu, to see what they say about his dreams, and the general underlying dread that comes with being an apostate now.

When he lands on the lush, green planet, he mentally prepares himself for dealing with the Jedi. They have a strange way of going about things; a strange way of understanding the galaxy that Din doesn’t quite grasp. Most of all he hopes he’ll see Grogu, even if she doesn’t learn anything about his dreams and what they mean.

Ahsoka greets him once he’s stepped off the Razor Crest and walks towards the school. There are a myriad of droids around him, constructing the school stone by stone. But he looks around— no sign of Grogu or Luke.

“Where is he?” he asks Ashoka.

“Training.”

“Can I… see him?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“But I came all this way.”

“It’ll interfere with his progress.”

Figures, he thinks to himself.

“Can you at least make sure he gets this?” he says, holding out the small piece of armor.

“Of course,” Ahsoka says, taking it in her hands. There’s a small but unreadable smile on her face. And all of a sudden Din’s nervous to ask her about the dreams. But he has to. He didn’t come all this way for nothing.

“I need to ask you something,” he blurts out.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been having strange dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?” she asks, curiosity laced in her voice.

“The same person keeps showing up.”

“How many times?”

“Four.”

“You don’t know who this person is?”

“No, I’ve never seen her before.”

“It’s a woman?”

“Yes. Human,” he adds.

“Have you spoken to her?”

“Not yet.”

“What happened the last time you saw her?”

“I… chased her. She got scared and before anything else happened I woke up.”

“You’re aware you’re dreaming when this happens?”

“Yes.”

She pauses for a moment, lost in thought and trying to piece together what this all means.

“Have you… heard of something like this?”

“Something similar. But only with other Jedis or ones in tune with the Force.”

“So what does this mean for me?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, “But you should find out. Find out where she’s from and see if you can find her outside of your dreams.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. Let’s hope it becomes clear once you meet her,” she says with a playful smirk, beginning to walk to the school.

“Oh, and don’t chase her this time,” she adds, climbing the small hill and disappearing.

He doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t get to see Grogu or even get a clear answer about his dreams as he had hoped. He’s a tad disgruntled but what other choice does he have than to listen to Ahsoka’s advice? This connection he shares with you might be worth exploring. He just has to figure out how.

You

Anxious, paranoid, frantic.

You’ve spent hours upon hours in the library after your shift, searching for reasons; searching for answers. But to no avail. You’ve poured over books, research journals, and articles on data-pads. There’s nothing you can find out about a strange man with hypnotizing brown eyes donned in all black that signifies death. That should make you feel better, but it almost makes you feel worse. Apparently, you’re the only person in the galaxy with this specific problem.

Is it a problem, though? For one, you’ve never spoken to this man. You’ve only ever vaguely crossed paths a handful of times now. But the real question is why? Why are you of all people connected to him? Is the galaxy trying to tell you something? Or is this just a man you’ve seen before in passing somehow inching his way into your dreams? You did read something about how every face you see in a dream is someone you’ve seen before. The mind is unable to formulate a face from scratch. But that’s impossible. You’ve been banished to the underground world of Sullust for as long as you can remember, most of your neighbors and coworkers being Sullustans themselves. You’ve only met a handful of humans in your life and surely you’d remember the face following you. Those eyes are hard to forget.

Not only is this strange man a regular occurrence in your dreams but there’s something else that’s new– You were aware you were in a dream. You could control your actions, choose what you say, and decide when you want to wake up. You were able to find out what that is during your research. It’s called lucid dreaming and to your understanding, it’s a skill one needs to practice and develop. But why were you able to do this so effortlessly? Why now after all this time? It’s a little suspicious that you suddenly gained this ability when this man started appearing in your dreams.

Nightfall looms over your head, only a couple of hours until the library closes and it’s time for you to go home. Part of you feels silly for being afraid to go to sleep of all things. It’s not like anything can physically harm you in the dream realm… right?

No, but it can scar you for life.

-

Your bed haunts you in the corner of your room. You can’t fight off sleeping any longer. You have to work the next morning like you always do. You can’t afford to be late, nothing is worth risking going back to the droid department. Reluctantly, you crawl into bed, staring at the dull gray ceiling and hoping for an uneventful dream.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

-

@pedrostories @littlemisspascal

[youareinacomawakeup]

Sora and Riku are SO...

Soriku is an emotion all its own for me. I can't describe it. Like shipping something is a feeling, yeah? Like it's dopamine, it's serotonin, it's "I like this. Looking at them together makes me feel the Good Feeling."

But I can't describe the way Sora and Riku are...unique to that for me. It's this unique concoction of brain chemicals I can't put a name to. Nothing else feels like them. When they're in my brain, when they curl up and make a home there, it's just...completely indescribable. It just... I don't know, guys, I don't KNOW.

It's like-- Okay, as a writer, inspiration is also a unique emotion. It's not just "oh i had an idea" it's just this sudden flooding of "Oh, I can do anything." A passion, but different.

Soriku is also a unique emotion, something I struggle to articulate. It's like trying to describe the flavor of something in a way that other people can taste it in their mouths just by hearing it.

It's secondhand love, it's home, it's adoration, it's safety, and I know how fucking insane this is coming across, like true obsession, but even saying "I'm addicted, it's a drug," seems too goddamn shallow for what this feeling is. It's not enough.

It's just...them.

[charliemwrites]

Guilty By Association Commission from the very sweet and patient @soleilak

You (Callsign: Giggles, Gigs for short) are a medic on temporary assignment with the 141. The only problem? You're a former member of Graves' Shadow Company.

Content: Injury, angst, power imbalance, fingering and oral (reader receiving)

“Get your arse in gear, Gigs!”

Already exhausted and aching, the rough bark of your temporary captain urges your heavy feet faster. Gunfire sprays all around – you’re so addled you can’t tell if it’s enemy or friendly. All you know are your orders, a cry of survival in the uneven pounding of your heart. A bullet plows into the ground dangerously close to your foot.

Just a few meters ahead, Gaz curses and tumbles to the ground, hat lost. It’s not even a decision to alter your course. You can’t tell instantly what the damage is; if he’s been hit or just tripped. So you tuck and dive, grabbing an arm and leg as your back rolls across his chest. The momentum gets the two of you up and moving again, adrenaline taking the edge off his weight.

“Get us to the trees and I can run again!” he shouts in your ear.

You settle your blurry vision on the forest line ahead. Blessed cover – and your extraction point just a mile further. Goal set, you push through the pain of bruised ribs, a wrenched arm, and the ricochet of a bullet across your thigh. You wheeze your way well past the tree line, weaving between trunks until Kyle’s palm smacks at your side.

“We’re good, we’re good,” he says.

You grunt as you set him down, give him the quickest onceover in the history of medics. His calf is bleeding, just above the tops of his boots. It’s an ugly wound; it’ll need packing – but he can survive until exfil.

“Where the fuck are you two?!” Price growls through your headset.

Kyle pats your shoulder and takes off again, only the slightest limp indicating his injury. You grit your teeth and try to follow his example.

No one helps you into the chopper when you’re the last on the ladder. You’re not surprised, but it still stings. Salt on the day’s wounds.

Once the heli is up in the air, you scoot over to help Kyle with the wound on his calf. It’s almost hypnotic, the press-wind-press-wind of packing the deep gouge. Almost like unspooling your own tension through the care of a teammate. Every inch of bandage seems to amplify your own pains, though, as the mission high ebbs.

You hurt.

When Kyle’s done, you sit back a bit to assess him for any other wounds. The twitch of his mouth and slight bob of his head tells you he’s sorted, though – and it’s more thanks than you usually get.

“Where the hell were you?” Price demands.

“I got held up, sir,” you admit. Had been ambushed by two men you thought were on another floor. Bad luck, that. Or just poor preparation on your part. Your side twinges as you ease yourself into a seat. “Won’t happen again.”

Price grunts, mollified. “See that it doesn’t.”

You get maybe thirty seconds of peace before Soap’s voice cuts through the tentative peace.

“Gonnae take care o’ that or keep bleedin’ all over Nik’s seat?” he teases. Or at least it would be, if not for the sharp glint in his eyes.

What’s that saying about sins of the father? Well, Phillip Graves was definitely not your father, nor was General Shepherd – though he was old enough to be. In their absence, it seems you’re paying for their crimes regardless.

“Right,” you sigh, tearing off the bottom of your shirt, “sorry, Nik.”

“Just stay alive to clean it up, eh?” he replies jovially.

It’s not much of a joke, but you laugh anyway. You don’t live up to your callsign much nowadays, so you’ll take the levity when you can.

You tie off the makeshift bandage with a grunt and lean your head back, too uncomfortable to doze off.

At least the infirmary is a friendly sight. The staff are always grateful for an extra set of hands – even if they once belonged to a Shadow. And you have a lot of time to help since you’re not encouraged (never mind invited) to any non-professional activities with the 141. Working with the nurses during all that extra time has gained you some friends at least.

Dana is on call when you limp in. She fusses about you looking like the walking dead – then goes on to tell regale you with details from her current first-time watch of the show. The stream of words soothes you in the quiet little treatment room.

“Think we need an x-ray, dove?” she asks, prodding at your already discolored ribs.

“Wouldn’t help,” you sigh, “we can just wrap ‘em and call it.”

“Alright, dear, but you know what to do if it gets worse.”

“’Course,” you answer, summoning a grin, “can’t be keelin’ over before your nephew leaves that tart.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started – you know what she said at Sunday dinner?”

You giggle through her undoubtedly embellished story until she gets to your thigh – and the terrible bandaging.

“A piece of your shirt,” she scolds.

“My bag was too far, and my ribs hurt,” you complain.

“And what are all those big burly men for then, eh?” she huffs.

You shake your head. “I can’t ask them to help.”

Dana scowls past your hip. “Just because you’re the medic—”

“Pardon.”

You jolt in surprise at Captain Price in the doorway. Christ, he takes up the breadth of it too, shoulders brushing the jamb on either side. Even mission-dirty and stern-looking, he’s a hell of a welcome sight – though an unexpected one.

You try to sit up at some semblance of attention, but he waves you off. Can’t say you’re not grateful, unable to help wincing as you lie back.

You don’t notice him pause as Dana washes the wound, too busy sucking air through your nose.

“What’s… the damage?” he asks carefully.

You open your mouth to answer, but Dana beats you to it.

“Contused ribs, sprained shoulder, and a bullet wound to the thigh,” she rattles off. You’re always impressed by the undercurrent of disapproval and accusation she manages to weave into each word. “Not to mention dehydration and sleep deprivation. You’ve been staying up again, haven’t you?”

You clear your throat and turn your eyes skywards. “Oh, look at the ceiling. What a lovely ceiling.”

She clicks her tongue and begins packing the wound as you had for Gaz.

“Bullet wound?” Price asks sharply. Your eyes flick guiltily to him. “Why the hell am I hearing about this now?”

“It’s just a graze, sir,” you reply. “Sergeant Garrick’s was worse.”

His jaw does that thing you secretly (ashamedly) drool over, where it tightens and jumps. You know it’s not good but hey, silver linings right?

He doesn’t ream you out though. Just crosses his burly arms and lets out a long, heavy breath. You’re… not really sure what that means.

“Debrief at 0700 tomorrow, Gigs,” he says, voice unusually subdued.

“Yessir,” you reply dutifully.

As always, a strange mix of relief and disappointment twists in your chest as he walks away. Talking to him is a bit like being under a microscope – if that microscope was ready to brand you a low-down, no-good, dirty, rotten traitor at the first hint of suspicious activity.

You get it, you do. Graves and Shadow Company tried to kill Soap and Ghost, Los Vaqueros, and committed unspeakable atrocities. As much history as you had with him, he deserved what came to him, and Shepherd will deserve the same when he’s found.

Not that your hands were clean before Las Almas, but you drew the line when the orders came. Couldn’t bear to detain or shoot the friends you’d made in Los Vaqueros, or join the hunting party for Soap and Ghost. You’d been labelled a turncoat by your own teammates, thrown into a cell to be “court-martialed.”

Kate Laswell coming to your rescue was a second chance, a small-time miracle that you’ve been determined to earn ever since. In your more pathetic moments, usually in the small, dark, lonely hours of sleepless nights, you wonder how much it will take. How long you’ll be guilty by association.

At least this isn’t shaping up to be one of those nights. You’re half asleep by the time Dana sends you off, arm chilly from the IV fluids she bullied you into. For once, you might get a few decent hours.

Your second surprise of the night comes just outside your barracks door. Soap is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, head back and eyes closed. Awake, though. His index finger is tapping a steady but rapid pace on his bicep.

“Soap?” you say, alerting him. “Did you… need me for something? You’re not injured, are you?”

He straightens up, drops his arms to his side. You pause a noticeable distance away, uncertainty leashing you to the safety of space. Not that you feel threatened. His posture is the loosest it’s been around you since… well, since before Las Almas went to hell.

“’Course no’, I woulda – tha’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh…” You process the strange wording. “Why are you here, then?”

He shifts his weight, a little line appearing between his brows as he seems to gather himself.

“I’m here to apologize.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Look, what I said during exfil – it was bang outta order. You’ve been nothin’ but good to us ‘n I’m still holdin’ on to old shite.”

You shift, adjust the stupid flimsy sling for your sore shoulder. “It’s… not that old,” you reason, “and I don’t blame you, either. Not after everything.”

“Still, ya did the right thing back then – and ya’ve proven yourself half a dozen times over, besides. I’ve got no reason to treat you like an enemy.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. It feels like you’ve swallowed a grenade; any moment the pin is going to come out and an explosion of gory emotion will splatter the walls.

“Thanks, Soap.”

He grunts something about “not thanking him” and ducks his head, shuffling past you.

“Seriously,” you say, voice strained from keeping it even. “I really appreciate it.”

He pauses, gives you a genuinely kind look. “Rest up, lass.”

It’s the best you’ve slept in a long while – after you cry into your pillow, that is.

At 0700 the next day, you’re in Price’s office, sore but in high spirits. Gaz sat next to you and Soap said good morning at breakfast. Even Ghost seemed less frosty than usual, grunting at you in acknowledgement when you’d sat down.

Of course, the good luck couldn’t last.

The debrief itself is fine. You speak when it’s your turn, listen when it isn’t. About as normal as it gets for a special ops squad.

It’s as the rest of the task force is filing out the door that the other shoe drops.

“Gigs, a word,” Price calls.

You freeze mid-step, shoot Gaz a panicky glance. He glances over your shoulder, snorts, and pats your arm in solidarity. Not as helpful as he thinks.

With a deep breath, you pivot back around. The door closes behind you with a damning click. You can’t even hide your hands behind your back to fidget at parade rest – your arm needs to stay in the sling for the rest of the day.

“We need to discuss yesterday,” Price says, palms flat on his desk.

You tilt your head. Wasn’t that what the debrief was for?

“Sir?” you ask. “If I – did I do something wrong?”

He deflates a bit, big shoulders dropping before he pushes himself up and rounds the desk.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” he explains, “but I have concerns.”

When he gestures for you to take one of the visitor seats, you do. You’re a bit surprised when he takes the other – though you can’t help an appreciative glance while his attention is elsewhere. He practically dwarfs the stupid little chair, and the way he spreads his thighs trying to get comfortable…

“Concerns, sir?” you parrot, trying to corral your scrambled braincells.

“What you said in the infirmary,” he begins, expression solemn, “is that really how you feel?”

“What I said…?” You try to recall anything of note from last night, but most of what came out of your mouth is a blur at best. “What did I say?”

He leans forward, lacing his scarred fingers together. You try not to stare, though the way he rubs at the knuckle of one thumb with the other is distracting. It’s an unusual gesture for the disciplined, determined man you’ve been honored to call captain for months now.

“That you can’t ask us to help you.”

A block of ice drops into your stomach.

“That’s not – I know you guys would help me if I needed it,” you hurry to say.

He gives you a long look. “Then why don’t you ever ask? You were shot and didn’t say a bloody thing.”

You shift, unable to meet his eyes. Can’t find the words to answer. It’s not that you didn’t think you could ask. It just didn’t feel right with the bad blood between you, Soap, and Ghost. Besides, you’re the medic, you’re supposed to be the one fixing everyone else – not the other way around. What use are you otherwise?

You try to explain this to Price, but you sense (from the grim set to his handsome features) that it’s not helping.

“I’ve been a shite captain to you, haven’t I?” he sighs.

You jump. “No, sir! You’re a great captain. I trust you with my life.”

He chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. Sounds almost self-deprecating.

“I’ve not done a bloody thing to earn it.”

You shake your head. “Sir, you’ve kept me alive for months now. That’s plenty.”

Beyond that, he’s always been fair with you. Doesn’t give you shit assignments or the most dangerous roles in missions. Always makes sure you’re alive and accounted for. Calls you out for mistakes and faults, sure, but it’s for the sake of you and everyone else. He’s been just as ready to pat your shoulder for a clever maneuver or praise a good shot.

“You know damn well it’s not,” he scolds.

You huff, almost amused. “Sir, with all due respect, get off the cross we need the wood.”

His eyebrows jump up nearly to his hairline. Normally, you wouldn’t dream of being so cavalier with Price of all people. Soap’s truce last night gives you the confidence to continue.

“I know you didn’t trust me as a former Shadow at first,” you say, “but you looked out for me anyway. After the first few missions… it seemed like things evened out.”

He sighs and sits back, running a hand down his face.

“Laswell vouched for you – it’s the only reason I didn’t send you right back on that plane,” he admits. A small but genuine smile curls his mouth. “And then you put your life on the line for my boys time and time again.”

You mirror him, the tension in your shoulders easing away with each word.

“I knew things weren’t great with the others, but I thought it was best if I kept out of it. Let you lot sort it out so long as you all cooperated when it mattered,” he continues. “I didn’t realize how bad it got, and that’s on me. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and lightly tap your boot against his. “It wasn’t the wrong call, sir. I think things are going to get better from here on out.”

He hums, eyes searching your gentle smile for any hint of insincerity. But you believe it, and it must show, because his eyes crinkle as he smiles back.

“Speaking of better,” he says, clearing his throat. “Mind if I take a look at those ribs? Dana had some choice words for me this morning.”

You giggle and tug your shirt from your waistband, hiking the hem up high to show the reddish-purple mottling all over your left side. Price makes a noise of sympathy, easing out of his chair to the carpeted floor. On his knees, he inches closer, leaning in to inspect the damage.

“How’d this happen?” he asks, voice lowering.

His fingertips skim over the edges of the bruises, featherlight. Your voice gets strangled in your throat as tingles race across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Um, hostile kicked me. A lot.”

His eyes flick up to yours, hard as ice. “Dead?”

“Yessir.”

His gaze softens, a proud, smug quirk to his lips. “Atta girl.”

You can’t fully suppress a shiver. It’s not just the gentle, considerate touches. It’s the purring praise from a man you’ve admired and harbored a sizeable crush on.

“Cold?” he asks.

This is your chance to wave it off. To pretend you are not so inappropriately infatuated with a man you thought only tolerated you until a minute ago. A little white lie, you could smooth your shirt back down, and be on your way.

But you don’t want to do that. Not really.

And from the way his pupils are slowly, steadily subsuming his irises, neither does he.

“No, sir,” you whisper.

His slow exhale caresses across your tender ribs.

“Then would you be comfortable if I checked on your ‘little graze’ as well?” It’s a tease, but also a genuine check of your boundaries. Another out, freely and openly given, that only solidifies your resolve to see where he’s going with this.

“Yessir,” you answer, shifting to get at your belt.

Price tsks, though, big hands spreading across each thigh and urging you down again.

“Now, now, don’t aggravate that shoulder,” he murmurs. “Let me help like a good captain.”

You swallow back an embarrassing noise as deft hands unbuckle your belt, thumb the button of your pants open, and drag the zipper down tooth by tooth. His thick, warm forearms rest on your thighs the entire time, keep them spread to accommodate his wide shoulders. He’s in no rush to continue his “checkup,” toying along the length of your waistband before easing it down.

“Lift up for me, darling, there we are,” he murmurs. You gasp softly as his palms brush your ass while sliding your pants down. Then outright squeak as he squeezes a cheek in each hand, a low noise of admiration rumbling in his throat.

“Gorgeous girl,” he chuckles. “Gorgeous arse.”

Your face feels hot as he tugs your pants down to your ankles, though the square of gauze and tape on the back of your thigh is long revealed. It takes conscious effort not to squirm under his hot gaze, praying a wet spot isn’t already visible on your panties.

“Let’s just get this one free…” He works the pantleg over your boot, leaving the other pooled around the laces. “Now then.”

You bite into your lip as he hauls your calf up into his shoulder, propping your leg up to get a clear view of your thigh.

“Not bled through,” he notes, tracing the neat edges of the medical tape. “You’ve been taking good care of it. Well done.”

You can’t help the little twitch that evokes, your whole body reacting to the deep timbre of his voice. He’s not oblivious to his effect on you, a glint in his eye as his bristly jaw brushes the inside of your knee.

“T-told you, it wasn’t too bad,” you manage weakly.

He hums and your pussy clenches helplessly around nothing. His eyes flick down and you know it’s all over.

“And what about this, hm?” he asks. You whimper as his thumb skims the lace edge of your panties. “Have you been taking care of this?”

Flustered and yet so, so turned on, you can only shake your head. He coos in mock disappointment, rubbing slow circles across your labia, closer and closer to where you’re aching and needy.

“It’s alright sergeant,” he soothes, “your captain will take care of you.”

Except he only rubs you through your panties A maddening pressure back and forth along the wet seam of your cunt, never delving deeper. You break down in hardly any time at all.

“Sir, please,” you whine, wriggling. He’s quick to brace you still again, leisurely movements never faltering.

“Please what, darling?” he teases.

“I-I need…” You whimper with embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut. “I need you to take care of me, please, captain.”

He practically growls as he tears through the hip of your panties, tossing them aside in a sodden heap on the ground. With two fingers, he parts your labia, eyes hungrily drinking in the cream shimmering between them.

“All this and I’ve barely touched you,” he rasps, awed.

You nearly sob with desperation for something, anything. He shushes your fussy little noises with his thumb, dipping into the pool of slick at your entrance. Gets the pad soaked before drawing a line up to your swollen, sensitive clit. Your mouth falls open as he starts drawing tight, firm circles over that bundle of nerves.

He treats your body and your pleasure with all the confidence and competence you’ve come to expect of John Price. It takes shockingly little time for him to learn just how to press, how fast to rub, the patterns and circuits that get your legs shaking. And that’s before he twists his wrist and sinks a finger inside you.

“Practically sucking me in, love,” he murmurs, petting at your walls. You shudder and wordlessly beg for more, rocking your hips. “Need another already, greedy girl?”

He doesn’t even wait for your nod before stuffing you with another, curling and scissoring, exploring. You keen as he finds a sweet, sensitive spot inside you and begins toying with it, his thumb still swiping relentlessly at your clit.

He settles into a rhythm that has you moaning and keening, the heel of your boot digging into his shoulder blade. All the while he showers you in praise and encouragement, the dirtiest compliments that make you clench down tightly on his hand. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending lit up with pleasure.

It’s builds and builds and builds, never quite cresting. You’re near tears when you moan his name, trying to find some leverage or angle to finally tip you over the edge.

“Do you need to cum, doll?”

“Yes, yes,” you cry, “please, sir, I wanna cum for you. Please, I’m s-so close.”

He hums, bracing your thigh with his free hand as he leans in. Your foggy brain doesn’t have enough time to process before he latches onto your clit and a third finger bullies into you. You wail. Your thigh twinges from the dull pressure of his shoulder, but the slight pain only adds a delicious edge to the pleasure.

His tongue swipes across your puffy clit once, twice, three times and you’re gone. You gush all over his hand, his beard, onto the chair. Your hips jerk as he works you over, fingers abusing your g-spot relentlessly despite how tightly you clamp down. Your body feels nuclear, nerves popping like firecrackers.

He only relents when the waves of ecstasy threaten to drown you in overstimulation. He eases his fingers from your twitchy hole, making room for him to lick you clean. It’s loud and obscene, yet there’s no room left for embarrassment anymore. You shiver and pant in the aftermath, your body unravelling into a puddle.

“Wh-what about you?” you ask as he begins straightening out your clothes. There’s an absolutely delectable-looking bulge in his fatigues that you’re dying to get your tongue on.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “If you want more –” (“I do.”) “- then you’ll have to wait until you’re healed up. Non-negotiable.”

You try to pout, but the effort is thwarted when he chucks you gently under the chin.

“C’mon, let’s have a lie down.”

He steadies you as you wobble to the couch off to the side, lying down first and letting you cuddle up between his legs. It’s a comfort more than you would have expected from a clandestine little triste, but you should know better than to doubt your captain. Head resting on his chest, you let yourself drift for a while, lulled by his fingers carding through your hair.

“Price…?” you ask after a while.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t do this just to… I dunno, make up for something, right?”

He huffs. “No, sweetheart. I’ve been arse over teakettle for a while. Staring like a complete muppet when you train.”

You hide a grin against his collarbone. “Good. I thought I’d have to start making things up for you to owe me.”

His chuckle rocks through you, and for the first time in a while, it feels a bit like home.

[hellishjoel]

chokehold

1.6k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi

chapter summary: Joel teaches you how to face fuck. 

chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (sweetheart, angel, little bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, face fucking/oral (m!receiving), size kink

A/N:  very lightly edited, but I wanted to give a little love to joel and little bunny since the third chapter is taking me some extra time! divider is by @firefly-graphics! and always a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this over and endless encouragement <3

Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slow and steady, because that’s just the pace you’re taking him. 

Facefucking is still experimental to you. He’s your first partner, and you’re nervous to impress. 

What you don’t know is that Joel would never judge your inexperience. All sexual pleasures involve trust, praise, and a little direction.

Joel stokes your hair affectionately, growing more possessive as he gently guides your mouth up and down his thick length. 

You can feel the power shift as your knees dig into the floor, eyes hesitantly meeting his while you try to take more of his shaft. You want more, you’re willing to push your limits. 

Joel seems to sense your loss of inhibitions, your twinkling eyes meeting his whiskey ones. 

“Want me to use that pretty little mouth of yours?” Joel’s words vibrate through the room. He pulls his cock from your lips, smearing his tip from one corner of your mouth to the other as you catch a breath. His warm pre-cum slips onto your tongue, and all you crave is more. 

Watching you desperately try to get him past your parted lips again is enough to force out a dark, low chuckle. 

“Wanna hear y’say it, baby.” 

Your impatient whine and eager hands on the back of his thighs make you beg, “Please, Joel,” in that wrecked voice that he loves so much. 

Joel presses his hips forward once more, watching his tip slip past your puckered lips and back into the hot heat of your mouth. “Yeah, right where I belong, huh, baby? Right where that cock belongs.” Joel’s hand comes to cradle your face, tracing the bulge of his length against your cheek with a sinister smirk. 

The further he pushes on, your tells start to show. He admires the way your eyelashes flutter, gagging and coughing around him but insistent not to let yourself off. A stray tear slips down your cheek. He collects it with his thumb and brings it past his lips, tasting what you give him. 

“Even your tears taste pretty, sweetheart,” he mutters predatorily, watching as your eyes blow wide, shyly moaning against his length. 

“When it gets to be too much, try to stay on. Swallow around me,” Joel gently nods his head. “Go on.” 

You obey, swallowing around the thick trunk of his cock, throat feeling a little looser now. You’re oh so willing to take on the discomfort just to please him. Anything for Joel, because he’d do anything for you. 

As his hips pick up a lazy pace, Joel encourages you to drop your hands from the safety blanket of his thighs. Like the good girl you are, you ease them to the base of your spine and lay one wrist over the other. He’s tied you up in that position more times than he can count, allowing Joel to take control and use you as he pleases. Such a good fucking girl. 

Tears pool along the top of your cheeks, the sight of glassy eyes igniting a fire deep in his belly. The overflow of saliva trickles out along the corners of your mouth, pooling down to his length and soaking the coarse hair on his balls. 

Joel watches as you shift anxiously on your knees, eyes pleading because somehow you want more. 

“Oh, honey,” he drapes in a degrading tone, stroking your hair away from your wet face and letting you catch a breath as his hips halt. “Need more, don’t’cha, doll?” He drawls, cooing softly as you lay your head against his thigh. Your orbs lazily look to him and nod weakly, still measly sucking on his tip. 

You bravely flick your tongue along his tip’s sensitive slit, toying at the idea of getting a rise out of Joel. 

A hiss is released past his clenched teeth, his whiskey eyes turning wild. And then you do it again. 

Joel’s hips jerk like that of a bucking bull. His hand in your hair turns to a fist, causing you to clench your eyes closed at the scorching prickle along your scalp. Joel scoffs as you fucking moan against him. 

His grin turns wicked, twisted at the thought of you enjoying some rough love. 

“Fuckin’ naughty, aren’t ya, little bunny? Yeah, bein’ a damn brat,” he chastises, watching as you frown around his tip and sucking it insistently. “Think m’gonna have t’finish deep down that pretty throat of yours, make ya choke on it,” he remarks as he repositions your head with a newfound need to punish.

Joel gathers your hair into two sets of pigtails, fisting them between his large palms. He watches you struggle to stay upright and drags you into position. “Keep that cock in your mouth, don’t let it go, sweetheart,” he gripes as you struggle to maintain him. It almost feels like a twisted game the way he nearly slips loose from your heat. 

Your mouth was full, jaw aching for a break that was nowhere in sight. Your fingers intertwine to keep them locked at the very base of your spine, whining nonsense against his cock. Soaking wet and dripping onto the hardwood, your pussy clenches around the ghost of what is currently occupying your mouth. 

You wanted to touch yourself so fucking bad. The self-discipline it took to keep your hands together makes your stomach churn. Your pearl twitches with enthusiasm, drenched in your own arousal. 

The muscles in your thighs are tight, your chest heaving and causing your bare breasts to rise and fall at a quickened rate. The overflowing spit that drips down from his balls lands on your chest. Joel can’t seem to stop staring at the gleam. 

Your nose brushes against his thick pubic hair as he buries your face against the base of his stomach, and you sputter up a cough. Lungs squeezing, throat tightening, you will yourself to swallow around him and stay right where you are. I’m yours, Joel. Please, take me, use me. 

“Fuck,’ he growls upon yanking you off his cock, smirking widely as you gasp for lost breaths. “Love that goddamn throat,” Joel mutters before reaching past you and pulling your hands to the front of his thighs, which quickly form a home for you. It’s grounding, to feel him, to feel his blood pumping through his body, and etch mine on the inside of his upper thigh mindlessly. 

“Got me so close, honey,” he starts, and you’re already eagerly nodding. Joel brings his thumb to your throat and slowly circles one spot against the column of your flesh. “Wanna feel myself right here, think you can do that, sweetheart?” 

Your eyes soften at the depth he wishes to go, but you’d do anything for him. You nod shyly and drop your jaw, flattening your tongue just for him. Always for him. 

Joel’s pace is gentle at first, working up a rhythm that has your throat molding perfectly around him. You gag each time he thrusts all the way, knowing when to swallow and when to breathe, Joel has taught you this new erotic art. 

The saliva dripping down to the base of his cock greets your chin repeatedly. You hollow your cheeks around him, and he moans naughty filth. 

“Such a pretty slut for this cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good- god damn,” Joel pauses with his length fully down your tight throat, grinding himself against your mouth as you clench your eyes close and gag. Joel places his thumb on that sacred spot against your neck, and he can feel his tip bulging against the column of your throat. You’re so fucking full of him, and it’s enough to make him spill. 

The hold he has on your hair tightens, scalp prickling as you cry out along his length. Salt bitters your tongue, weakly swallowing back load after load of his warm, thick finish. You swallow around his length and moan lowly, all muffled and messy for him as he crashes harshly through his own concocted orgasm. 

Your nails etch half-moon shapes into the back of his thighs, keeping him there, pushing for him to cross the finish line. And it was all for you. 

Tears of happiness stream down your face as you let him finish painting your throat, releasing with a dramatic pop as you do your best to swallow every last dribble. You’re careful as you give his sensitive tip a few sweet kitten licks. His hands are at the ready in your hair as he hisses harshly, ready to control you if it’s too much overstimulation for your poor old Daddy. 

Sponging kisses down his softening length, you lay your head against his thigh, and he cards his fingers through your hair. A soothing hum leaves your throat, fluttering your eyes closed as his thumb comes along to brush away the stray tears. 

It’s easier to ignore the throbbing between your legs now that Joel has found peace. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you listen only slightly as he begins to coo gentle affirmations for you.

Joel holds your hands and helps you stand, your arms already tiredly linking around his neck as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, “always make Daddy so happy, you know that?” Your head bobbles loosely. His sweet remarks make your muscles even more pliant in his arms as he easily sweeps you off your feet and moves you to lie across the bed. 

Joel takes all of you in. Sweat glistening along your temple, parted lips lacquered in spit, the extra effort it takes you to swallow, how perky your nipples are, and the slick that’s all but made a mess down your thighs. 

“Shit, she’s so pretty f’me,” Joel whispers as you grin weakly.

“My turn now?” Your wrecked voice squeaks, to which Joel slowly nods, helping you pitch your legs up on the edge of the bed.  

“Your turn now, little bunny.”

[seonghrtz]

ME & THE DEVIL.

SYNOPS𝑖S,ㅤㅤsukuna falls in love with the purest angel.

両面宿儺ㅤ♡ ⠀ angel!reader⠀ . . .ㅤ fluff & angstㅤwarnings suggestive blood death occ sukuna　─　13k words.

The worst crime a creature of darkness could commit was to fall in love with a creature of light.

Sukuna Ryomen was aware of this, and yet he allowed himself to be loved by an angel, just as he allowed himself to love one.

But his disobedience cost him dearly, and his whole world fell to ruins. For the first time in his life, everything he had ever sworn was beautiful was reduced to cold, distant memories that occasionally disturbed him in the dead of the night.

The peaceful life he had once been promised, sworn to under the stars, had been taken from him in the cruelest way, just as the only person he had sworn his eternal love to had been taken from him, ripped from his arms, turned into nothing more than a sweet memory that could no longer be touched. It had been like taking away the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

And now he was trapped in chains, thrown deep into the cell of the maximum security prison in the dark lands he once called home, and now was nothing more than a place where he was imprisoned, without the slightest will to live, and with only revenge trapped in his thoughts and the deepest desires of his dark and broken heart ⸻ which he believed he no longer had, since it had been taken from him, just like the life of his beloved.

𝔊aia, The Society of Humans

Sukuna rolled all four of his eyes at once and smoothed his black hood over his pink hair. He hated going to Gaia, hated leaving his home in Umbra, the Society of Darkness. Although the presence of demons and creatures of darkness was permitted by law in Gaia, its inhabitants were not very fond of them ⸻ especially with their frightening appearance and deadly gaze ⸻ but unfortunately it was only in Gaia that he would find the best whisky of the Three Societies. So much work for a bottle of alcohol.

The demon held the leather pouch with two bottles he had bought and another with a slaughtered calf that he would have Uraume prepare for dinner. However, his plans fell apart when he realised that there was something wrong with his surroundings in the Lost Forest ⸻ the path that would lead him to Umbra. In one swift movement, Sukuna stopped and turned to see a white figure hiding behind a tree with a broad trunk. Out of patience, he left his leather pouch with the drinks and the calf on the ground and approached the tree. Ryomen leaned one of his arms against the trunk and waited for the figure to leave its hiding place ⸻ which didn't take long.

"Oh," the person ended up facing Sukuna's cloaked chest, startled by the demon's sudden presence.

"Oh?" Sukuna repeated the stranger's words, raising an eyebrow.

Looking down with eyes that conveyed nothing but boredom, he analysed the person before him. Her long, white gown seemed to glisten in the dim light filtering through the massive treetops of the Lost Forest. Something that hadn't gone unnoticed by Sukuna, aside from the unique, angelic beauty of the stranger before him, was her majestic wings.

Those wings could only belong to someone from Oriana, the Society of Light. And not just anyone, but an angel.

An angel…

This little encounter between them was wrong in itself, as it was against the laws of the Three Societies.

Though the Society of Light and the Society of Darkness lived in eternal feud, the only thing they had agreed upon for thousands of centuries was that no being from Oriana could have contact with a being from Umbra, and vice versa. Interaction between the two societies was strictly forbidden. So much so that the worst crime a creature of darkness could commit was to have a romantic relationship with a creature of light.

And that rule applied to Gaia as well.

Without a word, Sukuna turned his back on the angel and went to gather his things and leave for Umbra, he had already spent too much time in the lands of Gaia for his liking.

"You..." the angel began to speak, trying to get Sukuna's attention, but nothing seemed to stop him.

"Can you stop following me?" Sukuna turned around, burning with anger. "Or would you rather be a side dish with the calf at my dinner party?"

"You... you wouldn't do that, would you?" She looked at him in horror at the idea he was suggesting.

"You want to stay and find out?" A sinister smile formed on Sukuna's lips, making the angel tremble all over and take small steps backwards. "Just as I thought, how pathetic you are," he murmured the last part.

"I am not pathetic!" The angel said with conviction, but her posture still showed fear, as did her trembling voice.

"The very fact that you're an angel, on Gaia, far away from your brilliant, stupid society, following a demon through a forest, tells me exactly how pathetic you can be. Now leave me alone."

"What's your name?" She avoided the last topic, even more curious, but without moving.

"That's none of your business," Sukuna made his way to the portal that would take him back to Umbra, this time without an angel in his way.

All five times Sukuna had returned to Gaia with the solemn intention of buying at least two bottles of whisky, he had met the (pathetic) angel who had followed him through the Lost Forest. She kept asking him questions, to which he answered with absolute silence. But during the five times, she didn't seem to mind his silence because she knew he was at least listening to her ⸻ which seemed to be enough to make her happy.

But the sixth time Sukuna went to Gaia, she wasn't waiting for him in the forest.

The demon was surprised by the little angel's absence and shrugged his shoulders when he realized that she wouldn't appear on his path.

He briefly tried to convince himself that it was better this way, both for his short patience and for the innocent, pathetic angel who knew nothing of the world she lived in.

But something seemed wrong…

It seemed wrong to walk back to Umbra in silence, with only the sound of the forest itself ringing in his ears. Sukuna wouldn't admit it, but a part of him, deep down, missed the thousands of questions the angel had asked him, both about himself and where he came from. But he couldn't miss that singular thing.

It was best to stay away from her, so he wouldn't get into any unnecessary trouble. Although he liked getting into trouble and unnecessary fights, Sukuna preferred to avoid anything that involved Oriana and the Light Ones; it was easier to get into a fight in Umbra, where he knew the laws and the rules of the game. Not to mention that he knew that if he got involved in anything with Oriana and was found out, even if he hadn't done anything, the creatures of light would do everything they could to put him in prison for life.

Sukuna looked back once more and, realising that there was nothing there, not even a shining white figure, he simply stepped through the portal into the chaos that was the Society of Darkness.

"Where were you last time?" Sukuna asked when he met the angel again after the fiasco of the last time he was in Gaia.

"Oh, did you miss me?" The angel smiled openly at the demon's comment when they met on one of the paths in the Lost Forest.

"Answer my question." Sukuna said authoritatively.

"I was in Oriana, my mother asked me to come back because she felt I was spending too much time in Gaia," the angel smiled and walked after Sukuna as she always did, "You know, you never told me your name..." She commented, playing with the white fabric of her dress.

"Why should I tell you my name?" Sukuna asked.

"Because I've already told you mine!"

"My name is none of your business."

"I promise I won't bother you anymore if you tell me your name!"

"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep." Sukuna rolled all four eyes and turned to the angel.

"Please," she begged him.

"And stop begging, you look pathetic doing it."

Sukuna looked into the bright, innocent eyes of the angel before him. There was something there that made his heart skip a beat. The way she looked at him was so pure that a part of him wanted to corrupt her completely, but the other part wanted to drown in this purity that made him feel less like a monster for a few seconds ⸻ even though he was a demon by nature.

"Lord Sukuna." He said quickly, using his title.

"Lord?" The angel asked curiously, "Do they have titles in Umbra?"

"Do you think Umbra is the end of the world?"

"No, no! In Oriana we don't have much information about Umbra..." She explained quickly.

"So you want to go to Umbra?" A mischievous smile appeared on the demon's lips.

"I'd love to, actually!" she said, delighted at the idea of getting to know another place, especially the mysterious Umbra.

"You'd be killed the moment you set foot in there," Sukuna laughed at the angel's fearful reaction to his statement.

"But... but I... I've never done anything..."

"Understand something, Angel, Umbra and Oriana do not mix, it is forbidden by law, so I think you better stop what you are trying to do or planning to do, because in the blink of an eye you will be killed. Oriana is the safest place for your kind, and I suggest you get back there before it is too late for you to see the light again.”

"Lord Sukuna..." She swallowed dryly, "I know I'm not the best company you could have, but please... I just..." She took a deep breath, giving up on saying what she really wanted to say "I... I'm sorry for bothering you all this time, I..." The angel turned her back to Sukuna, ready to walk away and perhaps leave Gaia forever, but was stopped by a hand on her forearm, holding her tightly and preventing her from leaving.

"Never stop speaking your mind. Finish talking and I'll let you go."

"I... I just wanted a companion, someone to talk to, but I think I was looking for that in the wrong person."

Sukuna's hand slowly left the angel's forearm.

"Angel..." Sukuna said and turned to leave. "Meet me here, same time, tomorrow."

"Lord Sukuna?" The angel glanced at the demon who had his back to her, but received only silence from Sukuna as he made his way back to Umbra.

Sukuna took a deep breath for the tenth time, wondering why he had acted without thinking the day before. He waited for the angel while he thought about everything that had happened and why he thought it was a good idea to take her to a less crowded part of Gaia ⸻ or rather, a field away from people. The truth was, even he didn't know why he was acting the way he was.

That angel could only have bewitched him...

And if she hadn't bewitched him before, he was certainly bewitched the moment their eyes met.

For some reason, the angel looked neater than usual, even wearing hair ornaments that matched her white dress with gold details.

"Sorry for the delay, Lord Sukuna!" The angel smiled as she approached the stone he was sitting on while he waited.

Sukuna just stared at her and got up, taking a different route from the one he usually took.

"Where are we going?" She asked curiously, having been curious ever since she had been told to meet on the road to the Lost Forest, something that was certainly far from Sukuna's fetishes.

"I will take you to a deserted place to devour you," Sukuna said calmly.

"WHAT?!" The angel's eyes widened in shock at the demon's comment.

"Well, if you keep quiet, I might consider sparing your life, if I don't turn you into dinner first."

Silence fell between the demon and the angel as they walked, and all that could be heard was the sounds of the forest and their footsteps on the leaves, the broken branches on the ground, and the fertilized earth beneath their feet. Sukuna was surprised by the angel's silence, but didn't question her, while she herself was lost in her thoughts, trying to prove something true about him devouring her.

"We're here." Sukuna said, drawing the angel's attention and freeing her from the thought loop she was trapped in.

She looked around; it was an open, flowery field, and there was a cliff overlooking the sea, which seemed to connect with Gaia's sky on the horizon. Enchanted by such a beautiful view, the angel approached the cliff, feeling the icy, salty breeze against her body.

"If you stand too close to the cliff, you might fall." Sukuna said from behind the angel, frightening her.

"Oh, you're right!" She said, a little frightened at the thought of falling from that height.

"You have wings, do you know that?" Sukuna rolled his eyes, "You can fly if you fall."

"Oh, that's true, well, it would be true if I could fly, but I can't.”

"Haven't you learned how to fly?" Sukuna said in a provocative tone.

"Um, I just got hurt and the healer said that if I wanted to fly again, I'd have to spend some time recovering, without forcing it."

"That must suck for you..." Sukuna shrugged and sat down on the grass to bask in the sun.

"You have no idea, almost everything in Oriana is on top, so it's easier to fly there. That's why I spent so much time in Gaia, everything is on the ground here, I don't need to use my wings," the angel sat down next to Sukuna and looked up at the clear blue sky, "What's it like in Umbra?"

"Why are you so interested in Umbra?"

"Because... Well, because nobody in Oriana talks about Umbra, it's almost as if it's forbidden. I once asked a group of colleagues if they knew anything about it and they just stared at me and then scolded me for commenting on the place."

"There's nothing wrong with Umbra, Angel, it's just an ugly place that harbours evil people with terrible hearts, it's no place for creatures of light."

"But you're generalizing, aren't you? Not least because you are an exception, aren't you?"

"Exception? An exception to what?" Sukuna arched an eyebrow.

"Well, you're not evil, maybe you've said some evil things to me, but you've never done anything too bad."

"Gaia's laws are completely different from Umbra's. I just don't feel like being arrested again."

"Have you ever been arrested?" The angel asked him incredulously.

"Like ten times? Or more?" the demon shrugged, "It's quite common in Umbra. Why is that? Isn't there a prison in Oriana?"

"Well, we do have something called a detention center, where those who break Oriana's laws are taken, but it's rarely full."

"Ah, you really are privileged..."

"Lord Sukuna, you told me that Oriana and Umbra don't mix, but why?"

"You really don't know anything, do you? What did they teach in the schools in Oriana?"

"Nothing to do with Umbra, the only thing they say is that we can never go to Umbra or have contact with any dark beings," the angel murmured.

"And here we are, aren't we..."

"But what's so wrong that our contact is forbidden by law?" The angel asked curiously.

"It's a long story..." he said, uninterested in this particular conversation.

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Maybe another day..."

"So you mean we'll have more meetings like this?" She smiled excitedly at the thought of seeing Sukuna again.

"Yeah... maybe... if you behave like a good little angel, I can think about..."

The angel lay down beside Sukuna and looked up at the clear blue sky. It was beautiful, and as much as it resembled Oriana's sky, in some ways it was extremely different. But perhaps it was the presence of the person, or rather the demon, next to her that made everything she knew, or thought she knew, seem completely new.

"Your marks... the ones you have on your body, were you born with them?" she asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Uhum," Sukuna mumbled in reply.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Why the hell would I have a favorite color?"

"Now that you've said it... I don't know either. In Oriana there aren't many colours, it's always light tones and often the same shades of white and gold. When I came to Gaia, I was enchanted by the variety of colors..."

"You really do surprise yourself with very little..." Sukuna squinted at the angel, "How did you manage to come to Gaia?”

"I was tired of Oriana. It was always the same things to do, it was the same boring routine every day. Just playing the harp, sitting by the crystal lake, reading and talking about the same things... I begged my grandfather, who is a general, to let me go to Gaia, if only for a few hours.” The angel's eyes focused on the slowly changing shades of blue in the sky, from light blue to pinkish orange, as her mind wandered through her memories: "Did you know that there is no night in Oriana?"

"Why don't they have a night?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow. Oriana was the complete opposite of Umbra; while one was bathed in light, the other was bathed in darkness.

"When the sun goes down, the sky turns orange until the next day's sunrise.”

Time seemed to flow when she was in Sukuna's presence. He said nothing and answered her questions indifferently, maliciously, spitefully or sometimes not at all. But the angel was happy. She was happy that she didn't have to spend so much time bound by the pure customs of Oriana, that she could speak freely and ask her thousand questions without being silenced for merely expressing a genuine curiosity about the worlds beyond the sacred portals of the Society of Light.

"Lord Sukuna, thank you for showing me this place and listening to me..." the angel murmured as she turned her head sideways to look at the demon's profile.

"Tsk... it's not a big deal..." Sukuna just stood there with his four eyes closed, enjoying the breeze (and secretly his new companion).

Sukuna had never thought that meeting this angel would become part of his routine in Gaia. Even Uraume had noticed that his Lord's frequent forays into the Society of Humans were no longer just about the good bottles of whisky or the cheap meat. However, Uraume knew better than to question his Lord and put this fact to one side ⸻ at least Sukuna seemed less grumpy when he went to Gaia.

Although he denied it, especially to himself, it was a form of entertainment to be in the company of the innocent and curious Angel.

And, in a way, it made him feel a little better that he had broken one of the strictest rules in the Three Societies.

Looking around, the demon saw the young angel munching on a typical Gaia fruit as she accompanied him to yet another secret location far from any civilisation that he had suddenly decided to take her to. It was a great surprise to him that she simply followed him, without questioning or even suspecting that this might be the last time she would see the light of day. It was amazing how much trust she had in him and how naive she was about her own world, her own people. And even though Sukuna had no intention of hurting her, except with his unfiltered words that came out without thinking, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen to her if she accidentally bumped into another demon, or perhaps a perverse human from Gaia.

It was almost comical how concerned and protective he was when it came to the Angel. Even if he refused to accept such feelings, only justifying his actions with the idea that she wouldn't survive a second without him by her side.

And when she almost fell on her butt in the middle of the road, it was as if Sukuna had received a sign from the universe itself, confirming his theories.

‘She's not even safe from herself,' he thought as he watched her laugh at her own disaster. She was too precious for any of the worlds.

"Are we there yet?" She turned his head in Sukuna's direction.

"Uhum," he mumbled.

And before she could complain that he had given her the same answer a long time ago, Sukuna pointed his head in front of her, making her look expectantly where he was looking.

The great waterfall, with its crystal-clear water reflecting the sun's rays divinely, had enchanted her.

It was beautiful. Just as beautiful as the open field of flowers by the sea that Sukuna had taken her to the other day. But these trees with their green leaves, the flowers, the water falling in a steady, calm rhythm, it was all so beautiful, so wonderful in her eyes.

"How did you know such a beautiful place existed?" Smiling, the angel approached the edge of the pond and placed her hand in the water, surprised to find it warm and not as cold as she had imagined.

"I found that out when I was hunting." Sukuna replied, sitting down on a rock near the edge and getting his feet wet.

"We... Can we swim here?" she asked excitedly.

"Um, go ahead." Sukuna said nonchalantly, after all they were far from Gaia's civilization and it was very unusual for there to be any people or creatures there.

Without further ado, the angel began to remove her long satin skirt and the pearl belt, then the top of her dress and the necklace she was wearing.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sukuna caught the Angel's eye just as she was about to remove her underwear. He had kept quiet, just watching her undress, but he hadn't imagined that she would be naked in front of him.

"Taking my clothes off? To swim?" Her speech came out more as a question because she was confused by the situation.

"You know you don't have to be naked, right?"

"But in Oriana it's very common to bathe in the lakes without clothes..."

"Are you telling me that you get naked? In public?" Sukuna arched an eyebrow in disbelief at the creature of light before him.

"And why wouldn't we? It's actually quite common over there."

"Yes, but I'd advise you not to do it here in Gaia, or anywhere else but Oriana..."

"Hm? Ah, well then..." Giving up on the idea of taking off her underwear, the angel simply removed her hair ornaments and walked over the wet stones into the lake "Aren't you going in too? The water's fine."

Sukuna stared at the angel for a few minutes, watching her play with the water, before deciding to take off his clothes and join her in the water. However, he was content to stand at the edge, leaning against a rock.

The angel approached him with a slight smile on her face, leaning her back against the stone and standing next to Sukuna.

"So in Oriana you strip naked in public?" Sukuna asked with a mischievous smile and was answered with a murmur and a positive nod from the angel, "Hm, I'd pay to see a show like that..."

"I wish I could take you to Oriana," she sighed, "but apparently there's some kind of spell on the sacred gates that prevents anything but a creature of light from passing through."

"Why do you think I wanted to go to your fancy little town?"

"Because you always take me to beautiful and enchanting places, I'd like to thank you for that."

"I don't need your thanks, let alone to see your gold-painted paradise." Sukuna said dismissively.

The angel shrugged at Sukuna's reply. She was getting used to the demon's blunt and direct manner.

Looking at the water, she noticed that it was so clear that she could see the bottom. Interested in a small pebble that caught her eye, the angel dived to the bottom without saying anything and returned to the surface with the stone in her hand. She had been so busy admiring the red stone that she hadn't noticed Sukuna looking in her direction.

"What do you have in your hand?" the demon asked in a tone that did not hide his curiosity.

"It's a red stone," she said smiling, "On my first trip to Gaia, I came across a merchant who sold jewelry, he had several necklaces with the same stone, I think it's called a ruby... But whatever it is called, it reminds me of your eyes"

"So you like stones?" Sukuna asked, ignoring the angel's last comment about his eyes and especially the fact that his heart was beating a little faster.

"Yes!" she replied with a smile.

"Follow me!" he ordered as he climbed out of the water and picked up his clothes from a rock, but didn't put them back on.

Confused by the sudden change of plans, and a little sad to be leaving the warm water, the angel picked up her clothes and began to follow the demon, who walked around the pond, without asking any questions. When they reached the edge of the waterfall, Sukuna went behind the water and disappeared from the angel's sight.

Uncertain about what was happening, but trusting the demon, she closed her eyes and went behind the waterfall as well. When she opened her eyes again, she was surprised to see a path behind the water. But what made her eyes sparkle were the coloured stones set into the wall, glowing and illuminating the whole place.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Sukuna asked as he followed the path in front of him.

Without hesitation, the angel quickened her pace and followed Sukuna. It didn't take them long to reach their destination, a small hot spring.

"The water is better here than outside." Sukuna said as he stepped into the water.

The angel left her things on the ground and stepped into the water, relaxing next to the demon.

"Just when I think you can't surprise me anymore, you come along and prove me wrong, Lord Sukuna."

"Or maybe it was your golden palace that wasn't so interesting."

"Well, I think you'd be surprised by Oriada's angelic beauty."

"More surprised than to see you swimming naked in a pond?" A mischievous smile formed on Sukuna's lips as his predatory eyes stared intently at the angel.

"Lord Sukuna!" A blush spread across the young angel's face as she turned her head to the side, trying to avoid the demon's gaze.

A small laugh escaped Sukuna's lips as he was amused by the angel's reaction. Maybe spending time with her wasn't the worst thing in the world, as he always tried to convince himself it was. She had a special way of making Sukuna want her by his side ⸻ even if it was forbidden. Sukuna squinted at the angel, noticing the doubt in her expression, showing her indecision about whether to say what she was about to say.

"If you thank me again, I'll never take you anywhere again." Sukuna lied.

"Ah! How... How did you know what I was going to say?" She looked at him, startled.

"You're as predictable as an open book."

"Oh?! But I know how to disguise it well."

"I doubt it." Sukuna smiled sideways at the direction of the conversation.

"I'm a very good liar!" She swam over and stopped in front of Sukuna.

"Oh yeah?!" Sukuna brought his face close to the angel's.

"Yes!" She said with conviction.

"Hm." He murmured as he pulled the angel by the waist and brought her closer to him. "Then tell me a lie."

"Ah... well... I won't lie right now, because I don't want to," she said confidently, but Sukuna couldn't help but laugh when he heard her answer.

She really knew how to amuse him.

Sukuna had always been indifferent when it came to Gaia. He obviously preferred Umbra, for various reasons, but lately Gaia hadn't been such a hateful place for him, even if he still believed that humans were the weakest and most influential creatures he'd ever seen. But as long as he was on Gaia, with some special company and away from civilisation, Sukuna thought it was a good pastime ⸻ although he wouldn't admit it, being stubborn as he was.

Little did Sukuna know that teaching Angel how to hunt would be so much fun.

From a very young age, the demon had learned to use various tools and strategies to catch small prey. And it was almost a talent, as if he had been born to be a predator.

But the Angel he knew had no such ferocious instincts, and even less skill with weapons. While Sukuna was a predator, the angel was nothing more than a small, defenseless prey.

The fact that she was so clumsy amused the demon, who could hardly contain his laughter when he saw that she couldn't keep the bow and arrow together.

With a sideways smile, Sukuna positioned himself behind the angel and helped her. He put her arms in the right position and told her to aim at the tree in front of them. Taking a deep breath and holding it, the Angel released the arrow, sending it flying into the hard gravel of the tree.

With a big, bright smile, the Angel turned to Sukuna, proud of her achievement ⸻ even though he had helped her.

"Let's raise the level," Sukuna smiled sideways and pulled the angel through the Lost Forest until they found a majestic deer near a small lake. "Now do what you did with the tree," he whispered in the angel's ear, so as not to frighten his prey.

The angel positioned herself, holding the bow and arrow just right, and took aim at the deer. But when she looked at the animal, she couldn't let go of the arrow. Hitting the tree was one thing, but now an animal seemed too difficult. She lowered the bow and arrow and looked at Sukuna with a depressed expression.

"I... I can't..."

Sukuna just watched the angel, knowing deep down that she couldn't hurt what she saw suffering in front of her. She was too pure for such brutality.

The demon simply took the bow and arrow from her hands and positioned the weapon perfectly before hitting the small deer in one of its vital points. The angel closed her eyes as the animal grunted in pain.

"Let's go." He walked around the lake to pick up the animal and headed for the waterfall that he had taken her before.

Arriving at the place, Sukuna wasted no time in making a fire and gathering the things he had brought from Umbra to cook for the angel. He prepared everything, taking out of his leather pouch a few other ingredients he'd taken from the kitchen at home ⸻ hoping Uraume wouldn't miss them too soon. The demon wasn't the best in the kitchen, but he'd seen Uraume make this kind of broth for so long that he hoped it would work.

"Do you need help, Lord Sukuna?" The angel asked as she approached the demon who was preparing the food.

"No," he replied, "just sit there," pointing his head in the direction of a rock near the water.

Without questioning him, the angel obeyed his command and sat down on the rock, watching as Sukuna cut the fresh meat from the deer with his back to her. The demon had broad, strong shoulders and there were black lines that adorned his body perfectly. The Angel felt her own cheeks begin to burn with every second she looked more closely at every detail of Sukuna's body ⸻ the one that most resembled a sculpture.

Suddenly ashamed of where her thoughts were taking her ⸻ thoughts she hadn't imagined she would have ⸻, she stood up and began to walk around the pond, observing the different kinds of flowers that were around. Sukuna could always point to the fact that she was surprised by the smallest things, but where she came from they didn't have all these vibrant, captivating colors. It was truly a fantastic experience for her.

The angel picked some flowers and sat down on the stone she had been sitting on before. Sukuna, meanwhile, continued to concentrate on preparing the food.

The demon was so focused on his goal that he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfection (and he certainly wasn't doing it all for the angel, he kept telling himself). However, all his concentration on the broth he was preparing was taken away when he felt something resting on his head. Looking up, he saw the angel standing behind him with a huge smile on her face.

"What's that?" He asked, feeling her adjust the object that adorned his head.

"A flower crown."

"A what?" he asked, incredulous at the answer.

"A flower crown." The angel repeated her answer with a slight chuckle.

But who would believe it, or even imagine the scene? A demon with a crown of flowers on his head. It didn't seem like words that would fit into a sentence in a harmonious and positive way. And maybe it didn't help that the demon in question was none other than Sukuna Ryomen.

Sukuna just rolled his eyes and poured some of the ready-made broth for the angel sitting next to him. She gladly took the bowl and didn't take long to taste it.

The demon looked in the angel's direction with a hopeful expression, feeling a slight fear grow in his chest to know what she thought of the food.

"Is there anything you don't know how to make? This is delicious!"

"Of course it would be delicious, I made it myself," he said smugly, but deep down a sense of relief was inevitable.

"Could you teach me to cook? I bet I'd be better at cooking than hunting."

"Who knows, one day..." Sukuna said vaguely.

Thinking about such a moment in the future seemed quite unlikely in reality, but nothing stopped him from imagining such a situation ⸻ not even for a moment.

Gaia's sun shone brightly, its rays reflecting off the crystal clear waters of the calm sea before the curious gaze of a creature of light.

Sukuna, following the path to a small abandoned hut, noticed that someone was missing from his side and turned to see the angel watching the landscape.

"Hey, Angel!" Sukuna caught her eye "If you just stand there, we can't get into the sea!"

"We can get into the sea?!" She asked excitedly, running across the sand to catch up with the demon.

"And why can't we?"

"Well, we don't have a sea in Oriana, but I read some books that talked about scary sea creatures."

"These creatures tend to stay at the bottom of the ocean, there's not much for them on the coast."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Do I look like I'd lie?" Sukuna turned to face the angel, then rolled his eyes when he saw the expression on her face at his question. "Okay, no need to answer, I get it." Sukuna made his way to the wooden hut that stood on the other side of the beach.

The hut had been abandoned for years, but it was still in good shape and usable. It looked more like a single person's house on the beach, as everything in it was for one person. Sukuna used to go there when he went fishing, but that was a long time ago ⸻ it was easier to hunt or buy something at the Gaia market than spend time waiting for a fish to show up.

The angel left the leather bag she was carrying on a wooden chair outside the house and watched the scene unfold before her. The more time she spent with Sukuna, the more she realised that she knew very little about the world. There were many things she had never seen, and things she had never imagined could exist. And she never thought that she would be eternally grateful to that stubborn, arrogant demon for showing her all that, for making her feel things she never thought she could feel.

"I thought you were excited about going to the sea."

"Well, I guess I'm a little scared." A short laugh escaped Angel's lips.

"Angel..." Sukuna approached the creature of light, holding her face to make her look at him, "I'm here, if anything happens I'll save you."

"What if we go in together...?" The Angel bit her bottom lip.

"OK, then get ready," Sukuna let go of the angel's face as he went into the hut to drop his and the angel's things and take off his clothes, leaving only his underwear.

When he came out of the hut, he found the angel already in her underwear, curiously watching the scenery, as if she still had doubts about going out to sea even if she wanted to. Sneaking up on the angel, Sukuna took her in his arms as if she were a bride and walked out to sea while she struggled against his big, strong chest, begging him to let her go.

"Lord Sukuna, please let me go!" The angel pleaded.

"Since you ask!" Sukuna released her into the sea.

"I can't believe you did that!" the Angel said as soon as she came back to the surface.

"You're the one who asked me to let you go!" He raised both upper arms, as if to declare himself innocent of such an accusation, and crossed both forearms as he smiled sideways, suppressing the urge to laugh at the whole situation.

"That was very evil– AH!" The angel screamed in fright as she felt something brush past her leg and leapt into Sukuna's lap, who caught her without the slightest effort.

"What happened?" Despite a smile on his lips, Sukuna's tone could not hide his concern.

"Something went through my leg..."

"It must have been just a tumbleweed," the demon's explanation reassured the Angel, who slowly got off from his lap.

"It's not that bad..." the Angel smiled slightly, "but I still think I'd prefer to be a little closer to the coast."

"So you want to go back?"

"Uh, just until I get used to it."

With the waves breaking on her knee, the Angel let her intrusive thoughts take over and she kicked at the water, wetting Sukuna in the process. The angel looked at the demon beside her, shocked by what had happened, and Sukuna just looked at her, expressionless, which made her shudder a little with fear.

"Was that a request for war?"

"No, Lord Sukuna, I didn't mean it, I swear–"

"You have five seconds."

"Five seconds?" She looked at him doubtfully.

"Five... four..."

Without thinking too much, the angel just ran as fast as she could.Without even finishing counting, Sukuna took off after the angel. He kept his speed down, though, because he knew it wouldn't be any fun if he caught her first. But as he grew tired of his own game, the demon soon caught up with her and threw her over his shoulder.

"Lord Sukuna, please forgive me, I swear I didn't mean to"

"I'm not entirely convinced of that..."

"Please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Sukuna stopped walking, interested in the angel's proposal.

"Yes! Anything!" The angel pleaded.

"I don't want anything right now." Sukuna lifted her from his shoulders and carried her in his arms, "But I hope you will remember this promise."

Time passed slowly as they enjoyed each other's company. As the sun began to set, the angel returned to the hut, dripping wet as she held several small shells in her hands. She left the shells on the table and Sukuna soon handed her a bowl of stew he had prepared.With the bowl in her hand, she left the hut and took a seat on the steps, enjoying the food and watching the sun set. It wasn't long before Sukuna joined her.

They both watched the horizon as they enjoyed their meal. There was no greater tranquility than that moment. But a strong wind blew across the shore, sending a shiver down the Angel's spine.

"I think it's time to go in." Sukuna stood up with the two bowls in his hand and walked into the hut, followed by the angel.

"Um, Lord Sukuna... it's starting to rain..." The angel said as she looked out the window and hugged her own shivering body.

"You are shivering." Sukuna approached the angel and rested his big, strong chest on her wings.

The angel felt a shock run through her body and a sudden warmth that slowly warmed her icy body and stopped the shivering.

"Your body is warm."

"I know," Sukuna whispered into the angel's ear.Without hesitation, he grabbed her waist, turned her towards him and then picked her up. He calmly walked over to a small three-seater sofa and sat down with her still on his lap.

"Lord Sukuna..." the demon's name came weakly from her lips as she rested her hands on his strong shoulder, drowning in the depth of his crimson eyes.

"Hm?" He murmured, looking at the face he adored so much.

"You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." One of her hands reached for Sukuna's face, running her fingers gently over the marks on his face.

"I disagree. There is nothing in the Three Societies that compares to your beauty."

Sukuna's lips reached for the Angel's and captured her in a soft kiss ⸻ something that was certainly controversial given his personality. The kiss didn't last long, but it was enough to make Sukuna thirsty for more. When they parted, the Angel tried to catch her breath, but it wasn't long before Sukuna was kissing her again, this time with a certain need, an unquenchable desire to have her all to himself.

The demon sat her down on his lap, using two of his hands to hold her there while the others traveled the length of her body, decorating every little curve.

"Lord..." The angel let out a faint moan as she felt Sukuna's hand squeeze her breast.

"You're so perfect..." Ryomen murmured as he approached the angel's neck and kissed the length of it.

"Sukuna... you... you're..." the angel let out a louder moan as she felt something hard against her intimacy as Sukuna kissed her collarbone and with one of his skilful hands undid the knot of the bra she was wearing and wasted no time in sucking on one of her exposed breasts.

"How do you feel?" A mischievous smile formed on Sukuna's lips as he watched the angel's satisfied face.

"It's... good," she moaned softly.

"You seem to be enjoying it, would you like some more?" One of the hands that had been on the angel's waist moved down to her ass and she gasped as she felt a strong squeeze.

"Uhum"

"Use your words, angel," he murmured in her ear.

"Yes... please... please..."

"I'll make you feel so fucking good..."

"Do you still want to go to Umbra?"

Sukuna's question had been the first thing he had said when he had met the angel again on the way to the Lost Forest.

"Yes! I'd like to go there." The angel smiled, her cheeks flushed.

The angel thought that after what had happened between her and the demon the last time they met, it would be difficult to look him in the eye again, and perhaps she wasn't entirely wrong. Sukuna had touched her in places she had never imagined being touched so viciously. But she couldn't deny the indescribable pleasure she had felt that night.

"Okay, then, let's go to Umbra," Ryomen shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

"Wait, really?" She looked at him hopefully, hoping this wasn't just a joke.

"Yes, but you can't go to Umbra like that." Sukuna looked the angel up and down, observing her natural angelic appearance.

"What do you mean?" she tilted her head in doubt.

"If you go through the portal, you'll soon be recognised. In Umbra, things aren't as clear as your clothes."

"So what do we do?"

"Put these clothes on." Sukuna handed the angel a burgundy dress with black details.

"Shall I put it on here?" she asked, holding it to her chest.

"It's not like you've never taken your clothes off in front of me," Sukuna smiled sideways, teasing the angel.

"Lord Sukuna!" the angel said embarrassed.

"Lord Sukuna? That's not what you called me last night."

"I'll change behind that tree." She said, ignoring both Sukuna's comment and his cheeks burning with embarrassment, and went to change.

"We need to fix your wings too..." Sukuna said as soon as the angel returned ready. "Can you hide them?"

"If I have a cloak, maybe I can."

"Too risky, I think we have to stick to my main idea."

"Your main idea?" The angel looked curiously at the demon who was fiddling with his leather bag.

"Let's paint it black." He took two tins of paint from the bag.

"You really came prepared..." The angel looked at him in amazement.

Sukuna opened one of the tins of paint and positioned the Angel so that she was facing away from him. The demon wasted no time and quickly stuck his hands into the can and began to run his paint-smeared hands over the Angel's wing feathers, but she quickly pulled away, laughing at Sukuna.

"That tickles!" She turned to Sukuna with a big, bright smile as she laughed.

Sukuna just watched the Angel and felt the urge to take that sound and put it in a bottle so he could get drunk on it every night.

"I think... I think we'd better hurry so we don't waste any time." Sukuna looked away from the angel and took a deep breath, controlling the urge to take her for herself at this moment, in this place.

The angel agreed, holding back a laugh as Ryomen ran his inky hands down the length of her wings.

"We need to do something about your face," the demon said after he had finished painting the angel's wing, closing the tins of paint and taking a cloth to wipe his hands.

"My face?"

"Put this on." He handed her a lipstick and she put it on without question.

"Can we go now?" She asked excitedly.

"I think we're ready."

"Lord Sukuna, may I ask you something?" The angel's hands found the fabric of her skirt and she began to play with it, trying to distract herself.

"Hm?" He turned to the angel, waiting for her to speak.

"How do we get to Umbra?"

"Through the portal," he replied bluntly.

"But how do I get through the portal?"

"Like everyone else," Sukuna held out his hand to the angel, who took it immediately. "Unlike Oriana, there is no barrier that prevents creatures other than creatures of darkness from passing through the portal. Anyone can pass through, but most aren't curious about Umbra because it's an ugly place with a bad reputation."

"So if I'd wanted to go to Umbra all along, I could have?"

"Yes, but you'd soon be barred because you look like a creature of light, so you had to change your clothes and your wings." Sukuna replied, "And remember, under no circumstances are you to say you're from Oriana."

"All right." She said with a smile, feeling more relieved and excited for everything that was to come.

𝖀mbra, The Society Of Darkness

The Angel had never imagined that she would actually pass through the portal and visit Umbra. This moment seemed more like one of her dreams than reality, and she couldn't help but be amazed by the whole place around her ⸻ no matter how hard she tried to hide her curiosity.

Umbra was completely different from all the descriptions she had read in the books about it in Oriana and Gaia. It wasn't a pretty place, and it was certainly dark and gloomy, but it had a unique charm that enchanted her.

The ground beneath her feet was rocky and barren, dry and devoid of vegetation. The surrounding trees were basically just a twisted trunk and branches, creating a frightening and sinister appearance. The sky was dark, as Sukuna had told her, and she had no idea whether it was morning, afternoon or night.

"We're in the Dark Forest, soon we'll reach my land." Sukuna said, still holding the angel's hand and leading them through the place.

"Your land?"

"Uhum," he murmured in confirmation, "my land is not so far from the forest, but it is far from civilization."

"Why do you live so far from civilization?"

“Because I have no patience.”

And just as Sukuna said, it wasn't long before they arrived at Sukuna's home.

"Do you live in a shrine?" The angel asked as she looked at the huge Torii in front of her and a huge shrine in the background, but like everything else she had seen in the Dark Forest, it had a frightening appearance and an evil aura.

"Something like that," Sukuna shrugged as he entered his own territory with the angel. Even he couldn't believe he was taking a creature of light into his own home, something he had promised himself he would never do, in life or in death.

"Lord Sukuna." A servant bowed as he saw his master.

"Where is Uraume?" Sukuna asked the servant.

"In the kitchen, making tea for your brother."

"Really?" Sukuna rolled his eyes, ignored the servant and pulled the angel into the room.

"You have a brother?"

"Twin," Sukuna replied indifferently and led the angel into the room where he took his meals.

The Angel simply observed the interior of the sanctuary, which was much larger than it appeared. She had the feeling of being in a palace, but one that was much darker. There were many shades of black, red, grey and even gold. There weren't many paintings on the walls (at least not the kind she was looking for), but the few that were there depicted wars or monstrous animals.

"Jin..." Sukuna's boring tone made the angel turn her attention to the demon instead of her surroundings.

"Ryomen– Oh, you have a visitor?" The man called Jin turned to the angel with a friendly smile.

Jin, as Sukuna had called the man earlier, was the complete opposite of Sukuna. He was tall, but not as tall as Ryomen, and he didn't have four arms or any visible body markings. Perhaps the only similarity was the pink hair. Other than that, nothing was the same. He certainly didn't match the descriptions of demons she'd read in some of Gaia's books, and even less did he resemble some of the ones she'd met at the Human Society fair ⸻ although she didn't consider those to be any kind of parameter for characterizing the citizens of Umbra.

Sukuna quickly introduced the angel, hiding her true identity as a creature of light and calling her by her name. It was the first time Sukuna had called her by her name and not "angel", well, apart from the intimate evening they had spent on the beach when he had spared no expense in using her name.

"I'm sorry Ryomen, I didn't know you had a guest today. I just wanted to introduce you to your nephew, Itadori Yuji." Jin said with a smile on his face as he held his son in his arms.

The angel approached the baby with more curiosity than the boy's own uncle and smiled as she noticed the huge rosy cheeks and a few pink strands on his head.

"Would you like to hold him?" Jin asked the angel with a gentle smile.

"May I?" She turned to Sukuna and waited for his confirmation to hold the newborn in her arms. "He's so cute."

"His face looks like a knee." Sukuna said as he approached the angel and looked at his nephew.

"Don't say that!" The angel scolded Sukuna, who just shrugged with a mischievous smile, "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen." She smiled at Jin and handed the baby back to him.

"Isn't he a bit small and big-headed?" Sukuna asked.

"He has the proportions of a healthy baby, and that's what's important, Ryomen," Jin said politely, "Now that I've introduced you, I'll be going home. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss."

"My pleasure!" The angel smiled "I hope Yuji grows up healthy."

"Thank you," Jin smiled before leaving the room.

"Well, I think I'll ask Uraume to prepare something for us to eat and then I can take you to the garden."

"Do you have a garden?" She asked in amazement, never imagining Sukuna to be the type of person to have a garden or anything like that at home.

"Don't get too excited, it's not as nice as the places I've shown you in Gaia," Sukuna said, referring to the places in Gaia that contained extravagant and unique flora.

The Angel simply sat down at the table and waited for Sukuna to return so that she could continue her questioning about Umbra and her own home. The Angel had an endless curiosity, she loved to discover new things and understand what she didn't know. Though the people of Oriana found her questions irritating and unnecessary, telling her that perhaps it was better to live in ignorance than to dwell on reality, Sukuna embraced her curiosity and answered what she knew, always answering with the truth and never trying to soften his answers. The demon never criticized her questions, or even said they were annoying or unnecessary ⸻ although at first he was a little irritated by the number of questions she asked. But he let her ask anyway, he loved the sound of her voice and found her curiosity admirable.

“You seem amused by the decorations." Sukuna sat down on the edge of the table.

"This isn't exactly how I imagined your home."

"No?"

"No, I didn't think it would have much decoration, really."

"The shrine and the land belonged to my ancestors, I just inherited everything. And making changes is a lot of work and a headache, so I decided to leave it as it was."

"Your ancestors?" The Angel asked, curious about Sukuna's past generations.

"The Great Demon King." Sukuna replied, surprising the angel and making her eyes widen.

But before she could ask him if he was joking, or even ask him about his family tree, some servants entered the hall, set the table and served the banquet. On the table were various foods that the Angel had never seen before in her life.

"If you don't like it, don't eat it," Sukuna said before starting to eat.

The angel looked at the food with fascination, but soon gave way to her desire and curiosity to learn more about Umbra's cuisine and what made it different from Oriana's and Gaia's.

"This is very good!" She smiled as she tasted one of the dishes and Sukuna just watched her, holding back a satisfied smile. He watched as she tried all the dishes, commenting on what she thought of them as if she were a judge in an eating contest.

After they were satisfied with their meal, Sukuna took her to his garden. The garden was a gloomy place, there were some trees with twisted trunks like those in the Dark Forest, there were some flowers that were shades of dark blue and purple, there were some that had black petals, there were some bushes with dried leaves and some that seemed to be rotting ⸻ something that Sukuna said was characteristic of the species itself.

The Angel approached a tree that had some flowers that seemed to be hanging from it, their petals in shades of purple and blue.

"It's a fuchsia." Sukuna said.

"It's beautiful... If I had a garden, I'd want it."

"And what's stopping you from having a garden?"

"I have no home..." The angel turned to Sukuna with a smile, but her attention was soon drawn to some sort of small house behind him. "What's that?"

"My Cerberus' house."

"Cerberus?"

"My dog. Would you like to see him?"

"Do you have a dog?" The angel asked excitedly, although she didn't have any dogs in Oriana, there were plenty of them in Gaia and she loved playing with them.

Without saying a word, Sukuna approached the little house and opened the door, revealing a huge, monstrous dog with three heads and a snake tail. The angel watched the beast with fear and took small steps backwards.

"It won't attack you." Sukuna said.

"I think I'd still prefer to keep a safe distance..."

"Come on." Ryomen held out a hand to the angel, who reluctantly took it. He took her in his arms and approached Cerberus, who was staring at them with his three heads. He didn't look like he was about to attack her, the little angel in her master's arms was no threat. Or perhaps the dog was aware of his master's feelings.

"He's kind of cute..." The angel murmured, reaching out a trembling hand to the middle head, which approached and sniffed it, soon followed by the right and left heads mimicking the movements, getting used to her scent. The middle head lowered itself, allowing her to stroke it. "And the fur is very soft..."

Without the angel noticing, Sukuna gradually let go of her and let her play with the infernal dog. He moved away a little, folding his arms across his chest. As he watched her, Sukuna began to notice things he hadn't noticed since the night before they ended up together. Though he had noticed her change in personality ⸻ something that happened when he was only in the Angel's presence ⸻ he noticed his own heart growing restless, pounding so hard against his chest that it seemed it might jump out of his body and into the Angel's delicate hands at any moment. She had been an extreme change in his life and in his own feelings. But what surprised him most about the whole situation was that he didn't even mind the change, in a way it pleased him enough. And Sukuna wouldn't complain if he could see a scene as domestic as the one that was unfolding in front of him.

If he could, he would take the Angel for himself and only for himself.

"I think he... or rather they liked me!" She said excitedly as she approached Sukuna with a smile, followed by the dog.

"Would you like to meet the civilisation of Umbra?"

"What? Are you serious?"

"If you behave, we can go."

"I'll behave, I promise!"

"I'll have the horse prepared." Sukuna said with a sideways smile, "Stay here with Cerberus until I get back. And don't be disappointed if you find that Umbra is nothing but a morbid place."

"I'm sure I won't be disappointed, because sometimes it's not the place that counts, but the company."

"Tsk... I won't be long," Sukuna turned to look for a servant with a smile still on his face.

He was fucked…

𝔊aia, The Society of Humans

Sukuna was almost one hundred percent sure that this wasn't the best idea.

It was a fact that the demon liked to keep things between him and the angel private ⸻ less public and more private. But a few weeks before this day, Sukuna had found it almost impossible to say no to the creature of light.

Not that he hadn't tried to say no. He had, many times. But his voice didn't seem to come out as he uttered that simple little word, watching the angel's hopeful face.

It was all a great dilemma for him.

And that's why the two of them, cloaked and hooded, walked through the bustling shops of Gaia, observing the stalls.

They hadn't bought anything, they were just enjoying each other's company as they walked hand in hand. They just commented to each other about the products that caught their eye at the stalls. It wasn't as if they didn't have the money to buy anything. Sukuna had enough money (and plenty of it) to buy all the stalls in the place, but he needed the Angel to really want something there for him to put his hand on his money. But the Angel didn't seem that interested.

However, what seemed to be a quiet (and romantic) afternoon went up in smoke when the Angel heard her name called out in the crowd.

She looked forward and saw her grandfather in his armour, along with other Oriana guards. They stood out from the crowd with their golden armour, which seemed to radiate light from within.

The angel squeezed Sukuna's hand, sensing her desperation, and took a few steps back.

"Angel...?" Sukuna looked at the creature of light doubtfully, sensing the awe coming from it.

"We have to get out of here!" The Angel said frantically as she ran to pull Sukuna between the tents.

The angel pulled Sukuna into the Lost Forest, but the guards and her grandfather continued to pursue them.

"What's going on?" Sukuna asked in a serious tone as he dodged an arrow.

"My grandfather is chasing me..."

"Why?”

"I argued with my grandfather. The last time I was in Oriana, we had an argument and I said something like the people of Umbra deserved our respect and that it wasn't fair to judge them mercilessly based on myths and false accusations. My grandfather didn't like his granddaughter defending those he had always tried to destroy. I just didn't know he was going to come after me– AH!!". 

The angel fell to the ground as she felt something cross her bruised wing.

Sukuna looked back angrily, searching for the archer who had shot his beloved, only to find a dozen creatures of light pointing an arrow at him. The demon just laughed mockingly at the whole situation, he couldn't spend all his time running, he had to fight too.

"Angel..." he said, catching the eye of the creature of light lying on the ground behind him, "remember you promised me you'd do whatever I wanted?"

"Sukuna–"

"Run!" Sukuna said, interrupting the angel, "Run without looking back. I'll take care of them." He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the fight if he knew she was in danger.

"But..."

"I didn't think you were the type to break your promises."

"Will you find me?" The Angel asked, worried that she would never see the Demon again.

"Always."

After hearing Sukuna's answer, the angel got up, feeling a pain in her wing, and ran deeper into the forest.

Sukuna fought fiercely against the guards, who, despite being outnumbered, were no match for the demon. However, after knocking another guard to the other side of the forest, a shrill scream echoed through the place, alerting Sukuna and making his heart clench in his chest as he recognised the voice.

Running between the trees, Sukuna reached the cliff where he had taken the angel on their first encounter. But it was no longer a beautiful place, not as it had been when he was there with her, not when he knew that the scene before him would haunt him forever.

At the edge of the cliff, two of Oriana's guards held the angel tightly, and beside them lay one of her wings. Sukuna's jaw clenched at the sight of the torn wing; not even a demon would do such a thing to his own kind.

"Surrender, demon, and we'll set her free," the angel's grandfather said.

"RYOMEN, DON'T DO THIS!" The angel screamed through her tears as she tried to free herself from the guards' grip.

With each passing second, the tightness in Sukuna's chest grew as he struggled to decide what to do. He could fight all those guards (who were certainly no match for his fury), or he could surrender, accept the punishment and save the life of the only being capable of touching his heart of stone.

Not even Sukuna could believe that he, the most feared demon, would think of surrendering. Just to save the life of a creature of the light.

"Let her go and I will gladly surrender." Sukuna looked from the angel to her grandfather.

"RYO, PLEASE–" her whimper came out weak and garbled.

"Promise me she'll get out of here safely."

"Of course she'll be safe, she's my granddaughter." The angel's grandfather straightened his already upright posture, trying to convey an air of superiority that made Sukuna roll his four eyes, "All right, let's take this demon to jail."

"NO!" The angel shouted, "YOU CAN'T ARREST HIM! SUKUNA HAS DONE NOTHING"

But as the angel tried to free herself from the guards again, her body was thrown backwards, causing her to lose her balance and fall off the cliff.

Sukuna's four eyes widened in shock at the sight, and her body quickly ran to the edge of the cliff to search for the angel's body. Without one of her wings, she wouldn't have been able to fly and save herself. But when he looked down, all he saw was the angel's body being engulfed by the seawater, taking her to an unknown place and out of his reach.

In his moment of vulnerability, Sukuna was stabbed in the back and gradually his vision began to blur until it became a black screen.

𝔘mbra Maximum Security Prison

Jin watched his surroundings as one of the prison guards led the way. Never in his life had he imagined that he would be walking through Umbra's maximum security prison. Of course, he knew about his twin brother's possible imprisonment, but it had never occurred to him that he would be incarcerated in a prison that housed those who defied the laws of the Three Societies, and especially those concerning Oriana.

The guard motioned for Jin to sit in the chair facing a cell, and he simply nodded as he looked around.

Everything was so dark and damp and didn't seem to be hygienic at all. Jin took a deep breath and looked ahead, seeing his brother in the middle of the cell, bound by numerous chains that were supposed to hold him down. However, Jin soon realised that those chains weren't capable of holding his brother, they were there because Sukuna didn't want to leave, he had already accepted being in this unhealthy place.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" Sukuna's voice was hoarse. Jin would have been scared if he didn't know Sukuna.

"I was just waiting for an explanation from you."

"What?" Sukuna looked at his brother, "Do you think it's time for bedtime stories?"

"Well, if that's the only way you can explain what you're doing in this prison..."

"I have nothing to explain."

"Ryomen," Jin sighed, "you're being held in a maximum security prison, I think you owe me an explanation for that."

There was silence in the room, causing Jin to take a deep breath and wonder how his brother could be so stubborn.

"You know what kind of person is imprisoned here. Don't tell me you were pestering Oriana's government in your spare time?"

"I wasn't pestering anyone, I was just living my life."

"And how did you end up here if you were just living your life?" Jin asked, confused.

"I was living my life with an angel..." the name of the angel left his lips with a tone of melancholy mixed with the anger he felt at the whole event that had cost the life of the only person that mattered to him.

"She was an angel?" Jin's surprise only increased when he recognised the name of the person who had been with him the last time they had met. "Having a relationship with a creature of light is the worst crime a creature of darkness can commit. And you were never one to sympathize with anything or anyone related to Oriana."

"She was different from those stupid angels... and very stubborn." Sukuna sighed.

"Ryomen..." Jin called to his brother, finally understanding the whole situation that had led to his current predicament. "I thought you were involved in a murder or an attack on Oriana's government, but... Ryomen, you've fallen in love with her."

Sukuna felt a pain in his chest, as if his heart was about to be ripped out of his own body.

In love.

He was hopelessly in love with the Angel and would never be able to say such a thing to her.

"It doesn't matter anymore..." Sukuna tried to appear indifferent.

"And why not?"

"She's dead." The words Sukuna had been so afraid to say came tearing out of his throat. He had avoided saying them, hoping it would hurt less, but it didn't, it hurt just as much.

"Ryomen..." Jin murmured his brother's name. He didn't know what Sukuna was going through, let alone what was going through his mind, but Jin could imagine it. He couldn't bear it either if he lost his wife and son. "You shouldn't give up. From what little I know of the Angel, I know she would want you to carry on."

"You don't understand, Jin." Sukuna clenched his fists, "She was the purest being in the Three Societies, and yet they had the nerve to kill her. They ripped off one of her wings as if she was nothing and then killed her in the most cowardly way."

"I know that losing someone important is painful and may be a pain that never heals, but you have to move on, be strong for yourself and for them. And cherish all the moments, all the memories you shared. She can't be here with you physically, but I know her love will always be with you.”

Before either Sukuna or Jin could say anything, a guard appeared to escort Jim out of the prison. Sadly, Jin said goodbye to his brother, who remained silent, staring at a fixed point on the floor.

To honor her memory…

What the Angel wanted most of all was for the Three Societies not to be divided by laws, and for them to treat each other with respect. And if that was what she wanted, Sukuna would do anything to fulfill one of her noblest dreams, even if it meant an inevitable war.

As the barren earth of Umbra began to tremble, Sukuna found a sense of satisfaction growing in his chest.

After escaping from the maximum security prison and freeing all those held there, Sukuna had assembled an unstoppable army hungry for vengeance.

The angel was right. The people of Umbra deserved the respect of the others, and if they were incapable of giving it freely, then Sukuna would have to enforce it in an unconventional way: by starting a war after centuries of "peace".

Ryomen's thoughts turned back to the Angel. He wondered if she would be proud of him for leading the creatures to receive what they should have received years ago. Perhaps she wouldn't be so happy about the means Sukuna had chosen, but she would certainly be proud if it brought positive results.

Sukuna would turn the Three Societies into hell itself for the Angel, and that's exactly what he was going to do.

In the midst of the chaos, it wasn't difficult to invade Gaia, especially as the humans were no match for the creatures of darkness. And when Sukuna reached Oriana's portal, which prevented the dark creatures from passing through, he smiled mischievously.

There was nothing Sukuna couldn't do, and no portal would stop him from avenging the Angel's unjust death.

With his four hands clenched into a powerful fist, Sukuna punched the portal until it shattered into tiny, insignificant pieces. A sigh escaped his lips, it had been easier than he had thought.

𝕺riana, The Society of Light

As he stepped through the portal, the demon immediately noticed the golden sky and the great buildings hovering above him ⸻ just as the Angel had described them to him long ago.

There was certainly something angelic about Oriana, but he knew that the vast majority of the creatures of Light were as rotten as the trunks of the Dark Forest.

Almost at the centre of the entire Society of Light civilisation, Sukuna noticed a large building that resembled a temple, made of white marble and decorated with gold and gems that reflected the light.

If the Angel's grandfather was anywhere, he had to be there.

As some of the creatures of darkness entered Oriana and fought with the guards of light, Sukuna was busy trying to figure out how to get to the top while dodging the attacks coming his way. After climbing some sort of golden tree, Sukuna arrived at the temple, causing the whole place to shake.

"Demon." The angel's grandfather appeared on the other side of the temple, holding his bow with an upright posture that conveyed superiority, something frightening, but not to Ryomen. "What do you think you're doing?"

"A war?" Ryomen shrugged.

"And why are you starting a war after centuries of peace?"

"Peace?" A dark laugh left Sukuna's lips, "You creatures of the light treat my people with contempt, imposing laws that only benefit you and branding all creatures of the dark as villains. We have stood by and tolerated you for many years."

"And why now? Why are you revealing yourselves now?"

"Because I didn't care before... until you took the one good thing from me."

"If you hadn't got involved with my granddaughter, she'd still be here!"

"Oh really..." Sukuna rolled his eyes and attacked, hitting the Angel's grandfather square in the face.

Ryomen felt his anger take over as he viciously attacked the creature of light. There was nothing left to stop him, for the only thing that had any influence over him was no longer at his side.

"She..." the creature of light choked on his own blood, "My granddaughter... still lives..."

Sukuna felt a hand close around the angel's grandfather's neck.

"She's... she's in the... Sacred Garden..."

"And where is that?" he asked harshly.

"Behind... the temple..."

"If that's a lie, know that I'll cut you seven feet to the ground myself." The demon struck the creature of light one last time, knocking it unconscious, and made his way back to the temple.

The Sacred Garden was a place beyond Sukuna's imagination. There was a huge pond of crystal clear, translucent water surrounded by a garden of gold and white flowers and some fruit trees. Although it was a beautiful sight, the angel hadn't lied when she said that everything in Oriana followed the same colors.

In the midst of the flowers, and facing a defoliated golden trunk, was a glass coffin in which the angel lay serenely.

Ryomen felt his heart clench in his chest as he approached the glass coffin. One of his hands rested on the glass, incredulous and afraid that this was his own mind playing tricks on him.

He had spent days believing that his beloved, sweet angel had died, blaming himself and angry at himself for being her undoing. But there she was. Lying serenely, just as he remembered her.

Then Sukuna opened the glass lid of the coffin and a hand reached for the angel's icy face.

"Forgive me..." the words came from his lips like a breeze and he slowly approached her face to kiss her goodbye before returning to the war.

But as Ryomen reluctantly pulled away from the angel, she slowly opened her eyes, startling the demon.

"Ryo?" She asked confusedly, trying to tune into her memories.

Sukuna whispered her name and took her in his arms, nuzzling her against his strong arm. Oh, how he had missed feeling her in his arms.

"What happened?" she asked, confused.

"It doesn't matter anymore..." He replied, running a hand through the angel's hair. His hands moved down to her face, gently caressing her cheek before kissing her.

𝕾omewhere in Gaia, The Society of Humans

With a small porcelain watering can, the angel smiled as she watered her fuchsias, which were growing every day. She looked at the blooming flower in front of her and remembered the day she had fallen in love with it. Surely it was a memory that would live forever in her heart.

She walked through the small garden and into the house, where she saw her husband sharpening one of his knives while drinking tea.

"Jin sent a letter." With a smile on her face, she approached the demon and sat on his lap.

"He always sends letters."

"It's Yuuji's birthday, he's turning five." She smiled excitedly.

"That brat only has birthdays and never grows up," Sukuna huffed, dropping the objects in his hand to hug his beloved's body, one of his hands running up her back, stopping on the angel scar where one of her wings should have been.

"I know you like Yuuji deep inside." The Angel approached Ryomen's face and kissed him.

"Perhaps, but there are things I like better." A mischievous smile formed on Sukuna's lips as he approached the angel's neck. He planted a kiss on a particular spot of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Five years ago, the Angel broke one of the most sacred laws of the Three Societies, the one that prevented contact between a creature of Light and a creature of Darkness. And five years ago, Sukuna Ryomen led an army to avenge her (presumed) death, ready to fulfill her wish for unity between the Three Societies. Five years ago, the Three Societies signed a peace treaty that did not prevent contact between them, but encouraged cultural exchange between the societies.

But all that was over, as was the law that forbade love between a creature of light and a creature of darkness. And now the angel could live out her dream, enjoying a peaceful life with her beloved. And Sukuna, well, he had found the peace he had dreamed of. He had no more worries, not when his whole world was safe in his four arms.

© seonghrtz, 2024. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[gremlingottoosilly]

A bomb threat (And how it got you a boyfriend) special forces!Konig x fem!college!Reader

Konig saves you from a bomb threat when you get stuck at your Uni. Based on his bio - presumably, Konig was a part of the Austrian Special Forces before joining KorTac. He is also a bit of a dork and we have a bit of an obsessive episode.

Tags: Fluff, Reader is a cringefailure, Konig is overstepping his authority, hurt(not really)/comfort Warnings: Bomb threats, mentions of terrorism Word count: 2450

Someone called a bomb threat in your college. 

Well, at least, this is what the automatic email is telling you. The email that was sent to you, about especially avoiding the library on the second floor because the anonymous(not for long, since they have a knack for exposing who the hell is calling those threats each time) caller said that there is a huge chance of the bomb being placed here. 

You know, the same library that you were sitting in, right now, reading this exact email on your laptop. You thought no one was around because it wasn’t a busy day, just after the major finals, with most people staying on campus only if they failed first tests or just wanted to get extra credits for some extra curriculum. Even if you were staying here just because you wanted to work on campus’s newspaper – the library is a good place to scoop for some rumors about the dean of the uni being three raccoons in a trench coat, or the lunch staff posing as Polish mafia. 

The thing is – it seemed like you were the last fucking person to receive the email. The thing is, there are only a few weeks left before summer break, and the campus already started to turn off major announcement equipment since no sports or other events are planned. Are you going to die? Probably, there is a huge chance of you dying, as you can feel directly in your bones – god, there are probably some terrorists or uni shooters or that weird Christian suprematist who are going hysterical at the mere sight of religion other than theirs. You are going to die, you are going to die, you are going to…

— Scheisse! There is a civilian! 

You were never particularly religious, maybe only at the time of finals and work submissions – and in situations like this, where you are already mentally preparing yourself to get blown up with unfinished articles and forgotten hopes and dreams and everything and…

You were never particularly religious – so you have no idea why your pre-death auditory hallucinations suddenly included an angel’s voice with devil's timbre and some huge, tree-trunk-like hands wrapping around your waist, checking you for possible injuries or explosive device. 

These hands are really huge – and muscular, you can see how tense they are even through your black uniform, and they are roaming over your body in a way that would make you scream bloody murder and file sexual harassment if it didn’t belong to an obvious angel. Angelm in special forces uniform, an angel with a really nice boyish voice and warm hands that are sliding to your thighs, groping and checking for every possible outcome – for weapons, probably, because you are literally the only person in the room that was deemed as a bomb threat, and if you were this guy, you’d also think that you were the culprit. 

His fingers linger on your hips perhaps a bit too long – you can him patting you down like you were heading to a club – and then he lets you go reluctantly, not finding anything except for your phone which he also checked for possible timers. The interaction lasted…a minute or so, but you are already hot and bothered, getting off the strong hands holding you, even though he already let you go. 

— Are you alright? 

He must have noticed your worried face and international student badge – his English is a bit accented but nonetheless confident. You never thought that small traces of German in a speech can sound so fucking hot but, perhaps, you are just traumatized and high on adrenaline and weren't getting laid for too fucking long. 

He wears a badge – something something long German words, huge design construction that made you think he must be pretty high-rank – knowledge that you only had because of the movies and games you were playing, trying not to get off the military kink too much. Something in the situation told you that you’d spend the whole evening searching for porn with guys dressed in all black today. Maybe, a touch of cargo. 

— Y…yeah. Fuck, sorry. I’m fine, fine. Yeah. 

You are rambling and he tilts his head to the side. This large, looming hand goes to your face – you wait for either a harsh slap to return you back to reality, or a passionate and deep kiss from your fantasies and dirty novels. He slowly traces his fingers on your face, getting up, in the hairline, searching for something – perhaps, a nasty head parasite that got you acting so weird around this random guy. Random guy who is just doing his job, securing that you’re safe, sound, and not going to explode in the next few minutes. 

— No head injuries. Gut. 

You want him to touch your face some more. You want him to check for mouth injuries, to evaluate the status of your lips. Maybe do some chemical tests with that gloss you were using today. Check the reaction with his tongue. 

He twirls you in place and you almost want him to press you against the wall. Search you some more, maybe get his hands a bit deeper, pass the oh-so-modest pants that made you look like a little bitch boy – his hand goes to cup your waist again, checking for anything that might catch his interest. Nothing – and you were never this sad about Hot wearing a concealed weapon that might force him to pin you down or get you into a chokehold with those massive biceps of his. 

— What were you doing here, ma’am? 

Studying in Vienna, you never found an Austrian accent this sexy. Never knew that you might like being handled like this before – it’s not romantic, not even in the slightest, but you smile a bit shyly, a bit awkwardly, and look at him from under your lashes, trying to look as innocent as possible. You are innocent – you weren’t doing anything, you were just trying to study and write in the last few weeks. Concentrated enough, so you never even noticed a fucking bomb threat. Didn’t hear soldiers running through the building, securing each room. 

— I…study here? 

You gulp loudly, taking a few steps away from the soldier. Allowing him to examine the room, deem it safe – the bomb threat called on your university was probably fake. Maybe a call from a paranoid individual, maybe someone with nothing better to do than pranking colleges. You seriously doubt anyone would try to blow up this place while almost none of the students are actually inside – especially the library during the low season. Even you almost decided to ditch the traditional writing atmosphere and just do something in the cafeteria. 

— Oh. 

His voice actually sounds…nice. Funny even, that small remark also makes him cough and look at you more seriously. He has a mask concealing his face, some weird hood or net on top of it – you try to see his eyes, but you can only occasionally catch glimpses of ice staring at you. Mysterious, you like it. Too mysterious, that little journalist club member inside of you is itching to get a look at his face better – you tilt your head to the side, contemplating just yanking it upwards and praying that he won’t kill you. 

Although you wouldn’t mind being crushed in his hold. 

— Let’s get you out of here, ja? 

You don’t question him when he suddenly picks you up – when the world starts to spin and you are pressed against his chest, his hands are supporting you under your knees and back. Securing you in place, making sure you are nice and comfy in his hold. You don’t ask questions when he slightly adjusts your hold so he can touch more of your thighs – you think he is just getting you comfortable, and you appreciate just how thoughtful he is. 

You don’t ask questions when he holds you almost like a bridal carry, even though you are certain you aren’t injured, and someone like him probably has more interesting things to do than saving poor college students who decided to ignore bomb threats. 

His hands are warm, his chest is even warmer, and his muscles aren’t even slightly trembling. You don’t know what sort of training those guys are coming through, but it must work – his steps are light and decided even when he can’t press you firmly against him, vest standing in the way. You don’t know what to do with your hands and you don’t want to mess with the government property – you think there is a law against fidgeting with special forces soldiers on duty – so you just get them on your knees. Like a good girl. Polite girl. Girl who isn't drooling over the guy who is just doing his job. 

— Thank you. For saving me. 

You whisper it in his headset – you are worried about someone else also hearing you, but there is something intimate about tilting your head upwards and getting right into his face, your lips millimeters away from the edge of his mask. You don’t want to sound suggestive, so you sound weak instead. You don’t to sound ungrateful, so you sound pleading instead. 

His hold on your thighs gets stronger. You lick your lips nervously, chuckling to ease the atmosphere a little bit. 

Your leg brushes above his waist – and you swear that you can hear his breath hitching. It’s impossible, you think, he must be a tough and content little soldier, perfect to save damsels in distress just like you – but something in his posture, in the way his fingers twitch slightly at the edges of your body, makes you think otherwise. Maybe, you’re just dreaming. Maybe, you know nothing. 

Someone slams into the room. Another man – shorter than the one who holds you, by a large margin, but none less intimidating. Burly, muscular, dressed up in full uniform which is expected – and with his face covered up by a similar veil or mask or whatever this is – which is unexpected. You thought that special forces would have something less eye-obscuring, but what do you know? You would be dead if the bomb threat was real. 

— Other sectors secured. No bomb in sight. Commander. 

He almost hisses, the similar accent in his voice makes your cheeks heat up even more. You feel weird, dirty even, thinking of those two large, intimidating men in such an intimate setting while they are just trying to save your life – but you try to silence that little annoying voice, to convince yourself that this is probably just adrenaline, ovulation and sudden urge to procreate before you would die. 

You feel your entire body stir when the man takes a step closer, looking at you. You can’t see his face, not even the outline of it – but you feel the burning gaze on your scared expression and obediently folded hands. 

— Gut. Other civillians? — 20 civilians in the building in total. University workers, some students. Already evacuated. — Any casualties? You hear a cruel chuckle from a shorter man. — If they were, you’d hear about it, sir. No, the sector is clear. — Gut. Dismissed – we’re finishing here. — What are you doing with the civi…

— Kruger, dismissed. 

The man who holds you is surprisingly stern when he isn’t talking to you. He used a much softer, quieter tone when he was talking to you, observing if you were hurt or in danger – and he is much, much different now. A cold voice, serious tone, the image of the ruthless commander flying in your head – well, at least you were right about his patches meaning something important. 

A shorter man leaves, and the door behind him swings open. To your surprise, the man who holds you – a mysterious stranger, you can’t even seem to find a name on his uniform – doesn’t let you go. His touches feel like you’re burning alive, he is igniting and brilliant and fucking perfect and…

He lets you down to the care of the local police department and some of the uni workers. His hand brushes over your face again – you think he was checking for the injuries but, then again, why would he touch your hair ever so gently only to move it out of your face to take a good look at your lips before letting you go? You’re imagining things, you probably must be – the man is just doing his job, he isn’t trying to fuck you in the nearest hallway even if you wanted him to. 

— Sir. I…thank you, really. For the help. 

— I didn’t do anything, Schatz. Someone must been playing a joke on everyone. 

You are going to find the guy – or a girl, or someone else, you don’t discriminate, everyone is equally capable of calling on the false bomb threats – who informed the special forces about the bomb in the building, and then you are going to kiss them. 

— What kind of joke is this? 

— A dumb one. 

He looks over to his unit – a group of tall, burly men, with weapons and uniforms and everything a girl could ask for – already packing in the vehicles to move out. You brace yourself to ask for his number – for his contact, anything, everything, maybe the favorite tree in the park under which you could meet again. You know that those guys aren’t supposed to reveal their identities, that he is probably out of town anyway, special forces aren’t usually called off to false threats, you know that your attempts are futile and yet, you lick your lips for added confidence and…

— Goodbye, Scahtzen. Stay safe, ja? Don’t want to save you from a real bomb one day. 

— I…I…um, you mean you wouldn’t save me from a real bomb? 

He was already halfway to the armored car before you could say anything. You aren’t nearly confident enough to yell across the whole fucking campus territory to get a number of this hot special forces guy, and something in his hunched shoulders, twitching fingers, and slightly less social and more abrasive manners tells you that he would hate the gesture as much as you would. 

Just like this, your first even real-life military crush is driving away, leaving you bombless, hoeless, and, most certainly, more depressed than ever. Summer is going to be great, right?

*** — What do you mean calling a fucking bomb threat?! 

Your friend wasn’t happy about the pick-up strategy you wanted to use.

*** — Of course, sir, let’s raid a fucking college dorm room. 

Sergeant Sebastian Josed Krueger wasn’t happy about his commander’s newfound love for college girls. 

Mostly because König refused to fucking share. 

[lustfulslxt]

1949 ⭑ Matt Sturniolo

Chapter One

summary : you move back home with your brother and click with his friends, though the tension is high with matt and it turns into something more

warnings : brothers best friend trope, slow burn, tension, sneaky relationship, swearing, eventual smut, slight traumatic past relationship with reader’s mother, and probably some other stuff

a/n : each chapter will have a different collage solely based on what takes place in it. kind of a new idea but i’m gonna run w it. if you don’t like it, use your imagination and pretend it’s not there xx

3.4k words

prologue

—

Surprisingly, after the long and heartfelt hug, things were quiet as the three of you make your way back to the car. Your dad insisted on carrying your belongings for you, leaving you arm in arm with Nate, who refuses to leave your side.

The lights on the car flash as your dad unlocks it, heading towards the opening trunk to place your luggage in it. Nate opens the back door for you, holding his hand out, motioning you to get in. You easily slide through, the fresh aroma of black ice filling your senses. A wave of familiarity washes over you, striking you with old memories you’re so fond of.

“Are you okay?” Nate asks from beside you.

You glance at him with a smile before furrowing your eyebrows, “Yeah. How come you’re not up front?”

“Oh come on. I’ve spent thirteen years without you, I don’t ever wanna leave your side again.” He admits with a bittersweet laugh, then pauses, “Wait, unless you’re more comfortable—“

You stop him from getting back out by grabbing his arm, instantly shaking your head. “No, please stay.”

He gives you a smile, taking place right beside you again. Your father opens the door on the opposite side, and starts to scoot in before stopping as he looks at the two of you in the back.

“Wait.. I have to drive?” He questions, feigning absurdity.

“Dad!” Nate chuckles, leaving you all giggling as your dad gets behind the wheel to get you all home.

Home.

It’s weird to think that. You’re going home. It’s you, Nate, and your dad in a city you used to love, but now seems so foreign to you. You can only hope things start to fit together again.

The car ride is silent, the three of you just taking in the abrupt new change. You’re over the moon to be back with them, but you can’t help but notice the difference. And of course, things are going to be different as it’s been thirteen years. You just didn’t really know what to expect.

As you watch out the windows, the scenery becomes slightly familiar and it takes you a moment to realize where you’re at. You recognize the side streets, every turn, every tree, every house. And then you’re there.

Your eyes widen as you take in the house in front of you. Slowly exiting the car, you view the house from top to bottom. It’s exactly the same.

“You never left.” You find yourself stating.

Nate comes to your side as your dad retrieves your bags, “We wanted to stay here in case you ever found your way back home.”

Tears prick in your eyes and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming mix of emotions. Without a word, you lurch into Nate’s arms, engulfing him in a massive hug. His embrace is warm and welcoming, making you realize just how much you missed him.

Pulling away, he gives you a sad smile, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner. Your dad places a hand on your shoulder, causing your attention to shift to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, yanking him into a much needed hug.

“Enough with being all sappy and shit. Let’s get inside, it’s cold as hell out here.” Nate chuckles.

You smile and follow them in, your heart rate increasing with every step you take. You’re in awe once you walk through the door. It’s been years, but everything’s still the same, aside from a few upgrades. It still gives that welcoming feeling you’ve desperately longed for.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Nate asks.

You look towards the staircase where your dad is headed, before looking back at your brother. He has a sort of hopeful look on his face, though you can still see he’s a bit unsure. You swallow the lump in your throat and give him a small upturn of your lips, nodding in agreement.

He starts up the same steps you used countless of times years and years ago, beckoning you to follow him. Your shaky hand grasps the railing as you do, the wooden steps slightly creaking beneath your weight. As you round the corner, you notice your dad standing outside the door to your old bedroom.

“Uh—we didn’t change anything, we kind of just left it as it was.” He starts, his tone of voice a bit nervous, “We did get a new bed when your grandma said you were coming back, figured you’d like more room as opposed to a twin. Oh, and your clothes were just pulled out to make room for what you have now. They’re packed away in the garage. I know your taste has probably changed, so we can do whatever you want with it. ”

You’re left speechless as you hesitantly cross the threshold. Your mind is flooded with old memories that you seemed to have forgotten.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled in.” Your dad says, “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“But—“ Nate is cut off by a tug from your father, pulling him out of the room.

As soon as the door closes, you turn back around to take it all in. Your eyes are wide as you observe your surroundings. Today is full of surprises, you almost don’t even know how to deal with it all.

Your walls are covered in that same pink pastel wallpaper, spare flowers scattered all across them. Your floor still has that white fluffy carpet that you were obsessed with when you were five. The chalkboard is covered from top to bottom with old writing from when you and Nate were little, but you notice something in the corner that looks a bit different.

I miss you so much sis

The tears flooding your eyes slip, streaming down your cheeks as your fingertips brush over the words. You wonder what it’s been like for them. Was it as hard for them as it was for you? Was it even worse?

You take a deep breath and continue around the room. Your small desk is filled with coloring books and writing utensils just like you left them the night before you were torn away from your family. Your toy box is overflowing with all sorts of things — dolls, stuffed animals, legos. You have a giant kitchen set on the side of the chest, one that you vividly remember you and Nate playing with. There’s a small bulletin board by your window, covered in pictures from your younger years.

Being with your family in your old house, your old room, brings so many feelings to the surface. You’re super glad to be home, but you feel so sad. Sad that you’ve gone so long without them, and you’ll never get that time back.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of your bed, before letting yourself fall flat against it. It’s soft and plush, just how you like it, and the fact that they remembered makes you smile.

You don’t know how long it’s been as you lay there in silence, but your eyes feel droopy and you’re practically fighting sleep. However, it takes merely minutes for it to consume you, and you drift off into a much needed slumber.

-

The sweet and smokey smell of syrup and bacon fill your nose, causing you to scrunch it up as you slowly become conscious. Your eyes are heavy and it takes a minute to adjust to the bright light shining through the window. After a moment, your body begins to wake up and you find yourself rolling over in search of your phone. Running your hands through your sheets, you sit up in a slight panic, only to feel the hardness beneath you in the back pocket of your jeans. You pull it out to check the time, shock flooding your veins as you read 12:47 PM.

“Holy shit.” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief that you slept so long.

You swing your legs off the bed, planting them on the ground as you reach your arms up to stretch. Your back subtly cracks, pulling a satisfied groan from you as your legs slightly twitch. Rolling your head from side to side, you stand up and follow the pleasant interruption that awoke you from your peaceful tranquility.

As you make your way downstairs, you hear shuffling in the kitchen. The sound of grease popping is heard, followed by a loud yelp. Quickening your stride, you round the corner and see Nate watching the stove from quite a few feet away.

“Um, are you okay?” You question, your voice still a little groggy with sleep.

Nate jumps at the sound of your voice, whipping around with wide eyes. “You’re awake!”

You give him a crooked smile, your eyebrows knitting together, “Yeah…”

He recomposes himself and points at the stove, “Sorry, dad had to work and I, uh- I was tryna make you breakfast.”

You bite back a grin and walk forward to the stove, turning the burner down. The extra grease popping ceases, it now only softly bubbling around the bacon.

“You just had the temperature too high.”

Nate chuckles, “I didn’t know you were a little chef.”

“Oh no, I just had to learn to fend for myself.” You match his laugh, pausing at your own words. “Um, sorry I slept so late. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep last night.”

“You’re good.” Nate shakes his head, “I know you were probably tired from the flight, different time zones and whatever.” You nod in agreement before he continues, “If you want, you can go shower and do what you need to do while I finish this. Just make yourself at home, it’s yours too.”

A warm smile graces your lips as you nod once again, “Yeah, okay.”

You turn on your heels, heading back to the stairs. You look back once more, watching Nate bounce all over the kitchen, and laugh to yourself at how he’s still the same as he was. Quickly you head upstairs, in desperate need of a shower to help wake you up and relax you.

Entering your bedroom, you go straight for your bags. You pull out everything you need in order to get ready for the day — a towel, washcloth, toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a simple outfit to wear. After gathering all of your little supplies, you head to the bathroom.

Flicking the light on and shutting yourself in, you move to lay everything out on the counter. You place your washes in the shower, turning the hot water on. As you wait for it to heat up, you hang your towels on the shower rack, and begin to brush your teeth.

Once you finish, you strip from your clothes, and step into the scalding hot water. A content sigh falls from your lips as the water pellets continuously rain down on you. You run your hands through your hair, letting it soak up the water.

You find yourself staring off into space, your thoughts consumed by this new life you have to readjust to. You've wanted it back for so long, and now that you have it, you don't know what to do with it. You feel unsure of what's to come, the looming anxiety paired with an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. You just hope your family can help you navigate these new adventures ahead of you.

Snapping out of your thoughtful trance with bright red, and tender skin, you proceed to wash yourself up like you intended to. Having spent quite some time just staring off, you rush to finish cleansing yourself.

After you're done, you shut the water off and begin to dry off. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap the towel around your hair and move to the sink. You begin brushing your teeth while you air dry before getting dressed. Shaking your hair out, you hang your towel to dry, then make your way back downstairs.

"About time." Nate calls, "I was beginning to think you got on another flight without saying goodbye."

Your face droops, guilt taking over your expression as you stare at him.

His smile falls, "Too soon? I'm sorry."

You muster up a half smile and shake your head, "You're good, just wasn't expecting that."

You sit across from him at the table, both of you having a plate of breakfast in front of you. You notice a cup beside your food and look in it, eyeing its contents.

"It's tea. You still like tea, don't you?"

You grin, "Love it."

His face mirrors yours, and the two of you dig in. Your chewing falters for a moment, and you suddenly realize you should've waited until you finished eating to brush your teeth. Taking his thoughtfulness into consideration, you push past the bitter taste and continue chowing.

"Can I ask you something?" Nate breaks the silence.

You nod.

"What was it like?"

You figured he would hit you with that question sooner or later, but for some reason you're unprepared to answer it. You set your fork down and place your hands on the table as your stare at him.

"Uh," You pause, "It sucked. Mom was — I don't know. It just sucked."

He hesitantly nods. You can see that he has more questions, but he lets them go. There used to be a safe space between the two of you. You never had to worry about overstepping boundaries and swallowing your curiosity. You want that back.

"If you have something to say or ask, go ahead." You offer.

His eyes light up and he takes a moment to think. "Um, I-I just want to say that we know it wasn't your fault. Despite not seeing you for over a decade, I know how you are. It was hard for us, so I can only imagine how it was for you. We don't blame you for it. And if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm always here."

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you swallow the lump in your throat. You needed that. You needed to hear him say that he knows it wasn't your fault, because even though it wasn't, you were worried they would blame you.

"Best little brother in the world." You smile.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "What do you want to do today?"

"I have no idea." You admit with a laugh as you shrug, "Definitely wanna unpack, and maybe go shopping for new things. I only brought my essentials with me."

He nods, "We can do that."

The two of you finish your breakfast over small talk. Nate says he'll clean up while you start on your room, so you head up there.

You immediately pull your small speaker out, connecting your phone to it to play music. Getting started; you move all of your clothes into your dresser. You have a few perfumes and lotions that you place on top. A few pairs of shoes, you place in your closet. After emptying all of your bags, you're left with your journals.

Shortly after the move, you started going to therapy to help cope with things. Your therapist recommended that you write every day, even about the littlest of things. So, you did. Every single day, even when you didn't feel up to it, you made sure to jot down at least something — your feelings, what you did during the day, things you wish to do, etc.

Setting them in the drawer of your nightstand, you move onto your old belongings from when you were just a little girl. You gather the majority of everything, placing it all into several piles. You find yourself smiling at the memories resurfacing from going through it all. Oh, how badly you wish you could just go back.

"Hey." Nate's voice sounds from the doorway. "I brought this."

He holds up what looks to be a photo album. You meet him at your bed, both of you taking a seat as he sets it in between both of you.

"I figured maybe you would want to see some of this."

You eagerly nod, letting him open the album for the two of you to go through it. You find yourself smiling fondly at the old pictures of you guys as a family. There are pictures of you and your dad, you and Nate, Nate and your dad. You can't help but notice that your mother is nowhere to be seen in any of the pictures.

Nate seems to notice your confusion, and elaborates, "So, dad took them all out. It was hard for him; he was really mad at her. We still have them, I'm pretty sure they're just packed away in the garage with the rest of her stuff."

You nod, understanding that things had to have been difficult. You continue to go through the pictures, laughing together and commenting on every memory. However, soon enough, you're also nowhere to be found.

Your smile soon fades as you go through the pictures of your dad and Nate. From Halloween to baseball games, to dad teaching him how to golf. You even see a picture of Nate at graduation, and it brings a grave feeling to your gut. You've missed out on so much, and there's no getting it back.

Swallowing the pain, you point to a group photo of people you don't recognize. "Who are they?"

"They are my best friends." Nate smiles brightly. "They're triplets. That's Nick, Matt, and Chris. I met them in middle school, we played hockey together."

"Triplets, huh?" You say, "That's a new one."

"Yeah, they're amazing. Never a dull moment with them, that's for sure. They're pretty wild to be honest."

You give him a smile, "That's good. I'm glad you have good friends; you guys seem like you have a good relationship."

"It's awesome." He nods in agreement, "Actually, they want to meet you."

"Me?" You question, incredulously. "They know about me?"

"Really?" Nate gapes, "Of course they know about you. You're my sister, and they're my best friends. I talk about you nonstop."

Unable to help yourself, you're leaning over to pull him into a hug. He's always been the sweetest. He knows exactly what to say almost all the time.

"So, are you down?" He asks as you both part from the hug.

Your eyes widen, "Right now?"

He shrugs with a grin, "Yeah, why not?"

"O-okay." You agree, mirroring his shrug.

He pulls out his phone to presumably text them and have them come over. The two of you go downstairs before he leads you to the backdoor.

"They usually just come straight to the back, so we can just hangout out here if that's cool with you."

You hum in approval, already making your way around the backyard. Nate props his phone up against a flowerpot, running out into the yard with you.

"My sister's back!" He cheers, jumping on your back.

You stumble a bit, caught off guard, laughter pouring out of you as you quickly catch him. You turn towards his phone, a giant smile on your face. You're filled with a happiness you haven't felt in so long.

"I'm back." You copy, giving the camera a thumbs up.

He slides off of your back, picking you up and twirling you around. You let out a small yelp, joyous sounds floating in the air from the both of you. The two of you throw your arms up, cheering like maniacs, just like old times.

Your movement halts as you hear a car pull over the gravel in the driveway. Several car doors open and shut, before quick footsteps make their way to the back gate.

You're suddenly extremely nervous, bringing your hands together in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see a hand reach over to pull the latch. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of your next move. Your heart races in your chest, and it's confusing to you. You're just meeting your brother's friends; it should never be this serious. But for some reason, as you listen to the creaky hinges swing the door open, you're met with a wave of undeniable tension.

—

a/n : sort of a lil cliffhangerrr lol. gotta keep yall on your toes :-)

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @matt444nixi @sturniololol @evieolo @dlyansworld @luv2matt @nmegamett20 @angelic-sturniolos111 @stasiesturn @zivall @similartokayyz @fratbrochrisgf @ifilwtmfc

[laurfilijames]

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Hurricane. Power outage. Oral sex (F receiving). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: A hurricane rolls in and knocks out the power, allowing Will to make good use of the time waiting it out with you.

A/N: I've had this idea toiling around in my head for a bit, and when we recently lost power at our cottage, I decided to go for it. I have no experience of hurricanes so I apologize if this isn't accurate, though I tried to remain vague. A big thanks to @rhoorl for the Florida hurricane knowledge and to @ramadiiiisme for supporting this idea through to the very end 💗

---

The sight when you reached the top of the stairs stopped you in your tracks, admiring Will standing by the large window of your living room looking out at the wrath of weather outside, his expression content and thoughtful.

You set down the pile of various candles you had collected from every room in the house, smiling despite feeling a tangle of nerves in your stomach at the potential strength of this growing hurricane.

“Should you be standing that close to the window?” you asked, causing Will to smirk and glance over his broad shoulder at you.

“She’s starting to really ramp up out there.”

You sighed in response, dreading the thought of it getting any worse, the rain already accumulating to the point that the drainage systems on the street couldn’t keep up with it.

Will remained in place, staring back out at the palm trees swaying wildly, the bend of their trunks impressive, seeming completely unbothered by the storm and almost calmed by it.

Coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and brought your hands up to his chest, feeling him take a slow breath in as he covered one of your hands with his.

“I like watching Mother Nature do her thing,” he explained, his voice soothing and even. “She’s angry, letting it all out.” He squeezed your hand as you rested your cheek on his back, already tired of watching the sheets of rain and extreme wind bully everything in their paths.

“I know what that’s like,” he finished, exhaling another slow breath that you felt fill and deflate out of his lungs.

Will turned and gathered you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his somber admission now an afterthought. “So, what did you manage to scrounge up?” he asked, his tone lighter than before.

“Oh, just every candle I’ve ever bought or been given,” you smiled, turning your head to look at the array that was spread out on the kitchen table. “It might look nice when they’re all lit up, but the combination of scents might be a bit offensive.”

Will laughed, his body moving against yours with the motion of it, and you smiled and looked up at him, his blue eyes bright in the dim grey of the storm.

“I just hope the power stays on a bit longer,” you wished out loud, knowing however many candles you made glow wouldn’t be enough to outshine the encroaching dark from the storm let alone the fact that it was creeping later into the night.

“Hmm, yeah, the air conditioner is hardly keeping up as it is,” Will explained, his hand smoothing up your back where it dragged your shirt along with it, the stickiness of your skin and clothes already beginning to feel intolerable.

The lights flickered and the sound of the power surging through the house made both of you part slightly to glance at your surroundings, the warmth from the light of the lamps that were turned on illuminating your belongings for the last time before everything went dark.

Will chuckled while you groaned, his hands rubbing up and down your arms. “Well, sweetheart, it looks like you’ve got a superpower.”

You shot him a glare as you walked over to the table, starting to distribute the candles throughout the kitchen and living room, but not lighting any yet since some light was still coming in from outside.

Will sat on the couch, grinning as he watched you, almost seeming like he was pleased and entertained by the situation.

“How long before you turn on the generator?” you asked, testing your luck even though you knew what the answer was going to be.

He shook his head as he laughed again, “Not until I need to. We might have a ways to go here and I’m not wasting gas in the first few hours of this.”

His eyebrows crept up his forehead as he spoke, his voice stern and amused all at once. “You’re going to have to be patient and trust me.”

You sighed and nodded, flicking the Zippo lighter you held on and off a couple of times before walking into the living room to join him, knowing that out of all the people to have by your side during an emergency, Captain William Miller was the best and most capable one.

He had already spent hours checking the house to make sure everything was secure, gathering supplies like gasoline and food and water, and hauled sandbags all morning with Benny and Frankie that they distributed out to the neighbours, even making a point to check in on some of the elderly ones.

“C’mere,” he purred, beckoning you over to where he sat comfortably, his long legs spread wide with one arm draped over the back of the couch.

He looked at you adoringly as you moved toward him slowly, his smile growing to pull out the creases beside his mouth that couldn’t be kept hidden in his beard, and you matched it with your own sly grin, suddenly forgetting everything that was happening around you as you became pleasantly distracted by the man sitting before you.

You straddled his lap, pulling up the hem of your flowy skirt as you did, seating yourself directly on the bulge in his workout shorts that elicited a low moan from him.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart,” he spoke softly, his eyes flickering over your chest and then up to your lips. “We’re going to have to ride this thing out.”

It was said with such implication that despite the heat, you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your back and down your arms, and you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you squirmed on his vast thighs.

“And what are your suggestions for…riding… it out, Captain?”

Will shrugged and smirked, his eyes glowing the same way his skin was from the humidity that hung heavily in the room, his hands groping at your hips.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

You smiled as you cupped his cheeks, loving the way his dark blond facial hair felt against your palms, and pulled him into a kiss while arching your back to get your body closer to his at the same time, both of you breathing out in the relief of your lips meeting.

Will set the pace, starting off with slow rolls of his tongue with yours, his hands carding up and down your body languidly, reminding you that there was no hurry in any of your actions and that you had all the time in the world to do anything you wanted with each other.

You slid your hands down the thick column of his neck to his chest, feeling his pulse hammer against them, landing on his chest where his body heat poured off of him, the cotton of his t-shirt damp and clinging to his form.

It took everything in you to maintain composure, thankful for Will reminding you to slow it down whenever you found yourself moving your hips faster, his hands pressing and digging into your flesh to force you to keep the steady rhythm that he started.

The slick that already saturated your thong teased you the more you ground your aching core against him, feeling his hard cock straining against the material that contained it, the excitement and anticipation of having him buried inside you intensifying by the second.

The skin on your chin and lips were already raw from how long you had been kissing, the steamy makeout session only made better by dry humping each other until you both were on the verge of finishing how you were, your whines and moans growing while your movements decreased to be as light as possible in an attempt to prolong this intoxicating tease.

Will kissed and sucked at your neck and chest, having already exposed more of you by tugging the neckline of your shirt to the side with eager hands, his breath fanning over your sweat-coated skin when he sighed deeply through his nose.

“Fuck me, you’re gonna make me cum in my shorts.”

He huffed out a laugh, but his admission only spurred you on more, grinding harder on him until his humour faded out and was replaced by ferocity, growling as he pressed his lips against yours again, the sweat that saturated his beard transferring onto you.

The storm was still going strong in the background, sheets of rain pummeling the house and striking the window with a sound that mimicked waves crashing the shoreline, the nerves you felt about it shifting into a frenzied arousal that you directed onto the man beneath you.

Your hands struggled to get under his shirt, the material so stuck to his stomach from his sweat that the skin on your palms dragged along his abdomen, the tackiness making it difficult for you to peel it up over his head.

It hit the floor with a slap, the weight of it evidence of how much the heat and you were affecting him, and you smiled against his lips at the sound of his breath hitching as you slid your hands down his chest to land on his solid pecs while your lower half continued to torture him.

You touched him everywhere you could reach, smoothing down his stomach and back up again, cradling the sides of his neck and then over his shoulders, and finally up to his hair where you let your fingers rake through it until you knew you had made it stick up in a spiky mess, deepening your kiss as the sensation made him press harder into your mouth.

The window rattled from the force of the winds, disrupting you enough that you broke your kiss and turned to look at it, the thought of it possibly shattering filling you with worry as you were reminded of your vulnerability.

Will placed his hand on your chin, his thumb smoothing it while his other fingers tucked up under your jawline, guiding your head back to face him where he silently assured you that everything was fine, his eyes reflecting a surety and vow of protection that no amount of reinforcements on the house could ever match. He adjusted the pad of his thumb so it sat on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly to part it from the upper one, and it surprised you to see how quickly his expression changed, his eyes darkened so much by lust in a matter of seconds that the look in them rivaled the clouds spiraling outside.

He kissed you desperately, his hands falling to your waist where he lifted your shirt upward, only pausing the union of your mouths long enough to remove it from you, your braless chest grazing against his when you leaned into each other again.

Goosebumps broke out across your skin despite the humidity clinging heavily to the air around you, your nipples hardening and feeling incredibly sensitive each time his body brushed against them, your needy moans pouring into his mouth the more his hands roamed over your mostly bare form.

You could hardly handle it anymore, desperate to feel him deep inside you, moving your hips back slightly so you could access him, tearing the front of his shorts down where you reached in for his cock. Will was helpful, lifting his ass off the couch so his shorts could slide down his thighs in order to expose all of himself, his expression serious with brows furrowed and knitted tightly together as he watched you grip him in your hand and began stroking him tip to base, smearing the precum leaking from it all over his silky shaft.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you back to sit directly on top of his groin, guiding your motions as you rocked your covered pussy on his bare cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he hissed, holding your skirt up so he was able to watch you grind along his length, pressing his cock flat against his lower stomach where drips of cum spilled onto the smattering of flaxen pubes.

A slow sigh of approval passed your lips as you continued to languidly ride him, your eyes closing as you lost yourself in the sensation and moaning when you felt Will capture one of your breasts in his mouth and spin his tongue around your nipple.

You could feel him growing more impatient, his lips moving faster along your chest where he eagerly worshiped your tits, his fingers clawing at the thin material of your skirt as if he was ready to rip it to shreds to get at you, and his breathing became more laboured, his chest rising and falling quickly while the exhalations from his nose ghosted against the crests of your breasts.

“I need in there,” he growled, his head shaking to the side a couple of times like there was no way he could handle another second not being inside you, his fingers slipping into the crotch of your saturated panties to pull them to the side before running his index and middle fingers through your slick.

Your mouth pooled with saliva as he drove his long digits in and out of you in broad strokes before bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean, his other hand angling his cock to line up to part your folds while you lifted yourself up on your knees to allow him access to enter you.

You sank onto him slowly, letting him fill you inch by inch until you encased him completely, his blue eyes locked with yours with an appreciation held in them that made your heart beat faster.

Remaining still, you leaned forward and kissed him, your hands holding onto either side of his face, deepening your kiss as you relished in the fullness he provided without moving.

When you parted, Will gave you a soft smile that made you melt, his fingers coming up to trace along the side of your cheek.

“I love you,” he said, the surety in his words clear, although his expression was a thrilling mix of adoration and something waiting to be unleashed, the suspense of experiencing either rough or gentle treatment exhilarating you.

“I love you too, Will,” you breathed, not daring to look away from him.

A strong gale slapped the side of the house, reminding you that the hurricane blasting outside wasn’t to be forgotten, but Will immediately drew your attention back to him, his hands smoothing up your back to hold you against him in a firm, but soft way, his lips pressing onto your shoulder and across your collarbone to your neck, alternating between kisses and nips that told you his control was beginning to falter.

You started moving on him, riding him in careful waves that felt so incredible you weren’t sure how long you could keep it up, knowing that whether you moved slow or fast, you would be reaching your climax in no time.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, resting his back against the couch to watch you, locking his hands on your hips to force you down hard each time you lifted yourself up and almost off his cock.

He was completely enamoured, looking at you as if anything could be happening outside that window and he wouldn’t care to notice, his eyes dancing over your form in a struggle to choose which part of you he wanted to see the most.

Finding the perfect spot that made you thrum with ecstasy, you rolled your hips and bounced up and down, your swollen clit hitting the base of his cock in a shattering blow each time, your skin tingling from head to toe as your orgasm built.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?” Will asked, his words breathy as he admired you sliding on him.

“Yes, fuck!”

Will thrusted up into you a few times, your cries growing loud enough they almost drowned out the noise of the hurricane, your nails digging into the flesh on his shoulder as you approached your high.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Will interrupted, though his voice was soothing. “Not yet.”

His eyes were big and bright despite the dark grey that had fully consumed the room, and although you were taken aback by him edging you, you couldn't deny the trust you had in him to look after you.

“Sit down,” he ordered, nodding to the space on the couch beside him as helped move your legs off of his.

Will stood and removed his shorts that sat halfway down his legs, stepping out of them before moving to kneel on the floor in front of you, his thumbs smoothing on your knees in a way that contradicted the way he forcefully pressed on them to encourage you to spread your legs for him.

He kissed his way up the inside of your right thigh, a low growl coming from him as he inhaled deeply when he reached your core, and then moved over to your other thigh, peppering wet kisses slowly away from where you needed him most until you were squirming where you sat.

“Will…” you breathed, shifting your hips to try to bring yourself closer to him.

“Let’s get this off,” he grunted, his patience thinning as your skirt was preventing him from taking everything he wanted.

He reached behind you, his fingers easily finding the zipper and pulled it down, keeping steely eye contact while wiggling it off your hips with the help of you shifting from one cheek to the other until he peeled the flowy fabric off of your body.

The creases on his forehead were pronounced as he continued to look up at you as he tugged at the waist of your thong, sliding it down to expose your dripping cunt that his eyes were now fixed on as he guided the wet piece of cotton to your feet.

Will hooked his arms under your legs, letting them relax on his biceps, his tattooed forearms wrapping around your thighs to hold you securely. He pulled you toward him, bringing you to the edge of the cushion so you were flush with his face, his nose brushing your folds before his tongue swiped through the mess he had already made.

A long moan toppled out of you as you raked your fingers through his hair, lifting your hips slightly to get even more contact with his talented tongue that licked at you slowly and precisely in an effort to wreck you.

He picked you apart minute after agonizing minute, continuously bringing you to the peak only to stop you there each time, the violent storm outside going ignored and nothing compared to the one raging inside you.

As always, Will was completely focused on his mission, working you with the expertise he had come to master over all the hours spent learning your body, knowing the exact amount of pressure placed on the perfect spot that would send you soaring.

Not once did his hands leave their hold on your legs, completely unselfish in his art and not even considering touching himself, his generosity and the thought of his leaking, rigid cock left waiting for attention adding to your demise.

You pleaded over and over, his name like a song with the storm as your instrumental background, desperate for release as you ground against his face, your heels digging into his waist as he in turn dug his mouth harder into your cunt.

He had you where he wanted you, and pushing your tolerance a little further, Will unraveled one of his arms from around your leg and slipped his hand between the sofa and you, fingering you slowly while he sucked at your over-sensitive clit, the precise hook of his fingers making you clench around them like a vice.

And then he stopped.

You cursed loudly, whining and squirming as he sat up and looked at you with a satisfied expression, his face glistening from your pleasure.

A stray branch from a tree flew by and struck the house, drawing both of your attention to the window, but Will was quick to recover where your focus belonged.

He stood, a slight hitch as he straightened his long legs, his body that had been put through so much physical turmoil over his years of service known to cramp up if left idle for too long.

Will gripped at your knee, pushing it toward the back of the couch so your body was forced to spin and lay down, crawling between your spread legs until he was positioned over top of you with his arms braced on either side of your shoulders.

He kissed you intensely, moaning into your mouth as his cock nudged where he had left you aching for relief, savouring you like he had gone without the press of your lips on his for days.

His hand found yours, interlacing your fingers as he brought your arm above your head, laying his body completely on yours so he covered you entirely, protecting you with all he had.

He was heavy, but comforting, his weight assuring and a reminder of his strength and unwavering love for you, and at the same time it came as a warning of the crushing power he could choose to have, like he was a hurricane all in himself and you were in his path of destruction.

Will paused in kissing you as he adjusted his hips, looking down between your bodies to watch his cock easily push through your tight folds, a shaky breath exhaling from his parted lips as his brows knitted tightly together at the sensation of being back in your embrace.

You looked to the side to see out the window as another blast of wind surged against the house, only to have Will squeeze your hand that he still held in his, his voice calm and even.

“Hey, focus on me,” he ordered, his eyes a turbulent blue when you met them. “Look at me.”

You nodded, holding his gaze as he began to move inside you, the feel of him stroking your walls in long, slow drags making it difficult to keep your eyes open.

Your free hand ran along the flexing muscles of his back, clawing at his sweat-coated skin as he found a pace that brought you right back to the point he had left you at more than once, your head tipping back into the couch as you were dragged into the throes of pleasure even more intensely than before.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart,” Will promised, his voice intoxicating and comforting all at once. “I’ve got you, you can relax…”

He spoke against your neck before moving his mouth back to yours, kissing you gently before probing his tongue in, the tempo of his thrusts deepening now that he knew you were succumbing to everything he was giving you.

He moved on you like the wind moved the rain, pushing and forceful, seeking his own release as he rolled against you with fervor and breathy moans were exchanged between your mouths as you chased your highs together.

Your whole body tensed, convulsing and giving up all control as he fucked you through the shattering orgasm made even more powerful thanks to how he had edged you, feeling yourself release on his shaft that alternated between being buried deep inside you and pulling out almost completely.

Will pressed his mouth hard on yours before breaking the seal of your lips, allowing his laboured breaths and rough grunts to sound out as he fought to follow right behind you, the cadence of your contracting walls coaxing out his end.

You could feel him pulse inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, hot seed that was always generous in its quantity, his pace remaining steady though his rhythm began to break.

Drops of sweat from his brow landed on your chest, his harsh movements shaking the accumulated moisture off of him, continuing to buck into you erratically until he had nothing left to give.

He crashed against your lips again, transferring even more sweat from his efforts onto your skin, his hand releasing yours where he brought it to your head and smoothed it over your hair, kissing you slowly but purposefully as he gradually let the rolling of his hips fade out.

After a minute, Will pulled out of you, reaching for some tissues out of the box on the side table and handed them to you, taking some for himself for you to both clean up. He stood with a grunt, looking down at you with an extended hand to take the soiled tissues from you, the muscles in his cheeks flinching wildly as he clenched his teeth together.

Will paused for a minute, looking out at the tempest scene, all of his veins raised as blood pumped strongly through them, his muscles accentuated beautifully from his efforts, and you couldn’t help but fall even further in love for him, his face stoic and almost unreadable, but only you knew how much emotion lingered beneath.

He sighed as he moved again, stretching his weary limbs while stalking to the kitchen, and you wondered if he had any idea how much you worshiped him even as he did the simplest of things.

You laid there listening to him rummage around, looking out the window at the ever-present hurricane, the room almost completely dark as night had successfully consumed the sun along with the storm.

Will returned with two glasses of water and set one on the table, passing the other to you.

“Drink up, sweetheart,” he drawled, smirking as he spoke. “The eye hasn't even passed over yet, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

The wink he sent you went straight to your core, your anticipation of whatever else he had planned for you enticing you and almost had you hoping this hurricane would last for days.

You returned his smile as you brought the glass to your lips, sipping it as you watched him sit on the couch beside you and grab the lighter off the coffee table, flicking it on so the warm flame illuminated his dewy, gorgeous features in the otherwise dreary dark. He lit the two candles that you had placed there earlier before grabbing his own glass and downing the contents of it, seeing the way his throat moved as he swallowed making you thirsty for more.

He sighed when he finished drinking, running his hand over his face to rid it of the sweat, and looked back over to you still laying where he had left you.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, his eyes slowly traveling up your naked form until they landed on yours.

You shook your head ‘no’, giving him a sated smile, thinking how you would happily give up air conditioning and electricity permanently if it meant sharing more moments like this with him.

Will gave a nod and laid down beside you, helping you shift so there was room for him to lay with his front against your back, spooning you comfortably where you both were able to face the window.

His arm draped over your waist and tucked under yours, his hand cupping your breast, and tangling his legs with yours, brought his groin as close to your bum as he could.

He hummed against the back of your neck, his nose brushing your damp skin, and you smiled when you felt he was hard again, his cock pressing between your cheeks.

“You’re going to outlast this hurricane,” you giggled, squirming so your bum rubbed along his shaft, making him growl against your skin.

“Damn right, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his hand running down your stomach and around to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart where he slowly pushed inside your tight walls.

He kissed your neck, the sensation of his beard on your skin making you moan and shiver, his hand returning to your breast where he tugged and pinched at your peaked nipple.

“We're going to need to pace ourselves, here,” he warned in your ear, beginning the slow drag of his cock out of you before slamming it back in, the conflict he felt between wanting to keep you safe and seeking to destroy you playing in his mind.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie

@rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989

[soapssuds]

Gojo x Fem!Pregnant!Reader pt. 2

He comes back, but at what price?

pt. 1

You gripped his arm tightly, “Toru, this is stupid! You’re not going to die, so please stop acting like you are. And- and please stop saying all this stuff about how everyone only sees you as a tool and as a monster. I don’t see you-“

You stumbled a little when you felt his infinity engulf him. A frown covering your features as he glared at you.

“And there you go again.”

He turned fully towards you, “acting like you know everything when you don’t. Honestly, this whole marriage was probably a mistake. I thought being with you would make everything better, but at the end of the day, we were just two stupid teenagers who lost too many people.”

“Satoru… you don’t really mean that, do you?”

You unconsciously placed a gentle hand over your belly. Your hand laying directly over your baby. He was so excited when you told him you were pregnant. His smile was even brighter than yours. It was hard to believe that the man in front of you was the same person who you happily called your husband, friend, coworker (even though you technically are on break from the jujutsu world at the moment), and soulmate.

He was it for you. Your one and only. But maybe… that wasn’t the case for him too.

You blinked back your tears at the memory as you hastily tried to get most things out of his place before he got home. If he found you here with your things, then obviously that would raise some alarm bells.

“Is this really how you plan to end things,” shoko asked as she helped load up Ichiji’s car. (She had luckily agreed to help you move back into your old dorm room until you could find a suitable apartment.

“Yes…”

“You don’t sound too sure,” she said as Nanami came down the stairs with the last of your boxes.

“I- I’m sure.”

“Well, you do realize that you both are still technically married, right?”

You looked away at that as Nanami closed the trunk of the car and came to stand next to you.

“Of course, I know that… I’m just… trying to figure out how to get him to sign divorce papers without him questioning it.”

Shoko sighed and looked to Nanami, “are you going to say anything?”

You fidgeted in place the moment that Nanami turned his attention to you, “do what makes you happy. Throughout all of our school years and missions we did together, I noticed that you never once did anything for yourself, so you should take that chance now. If you truly want to stay with Gojo, then I’ll happily take everything back up there, but if you don’t then we can look for an apartment for you once we get you situated in the dorms.”

You take a moment to remember your high school days. When everyone was still together, happy and alive. You also remember Nanami and his nervous confession to you, you also remember how you awkwardly told him you were already dating someone. And you remember the absolute annoyance on his face when Gojo would rub it in on how he was the one who was dating you. (You regret telling Gojo of Nanami’s confession when you witnessed the absolute torment that Gojo put Nanami through.) Even when you both were married, Gojo never failed to rub it in Nanami’s face at how he was the one who got to marry you.

But maybe… he just married you out of convenience like he said. That he only married you to make sure you would die or leave like everyone else.

“I… I really want to stay with Satoru,” you didn’t realize it yet, but you were crying. Your eyes spilled big, fat bubbly tears as your lip trembled. You found yourself crying so loud in front of Gojo’s house that all you could do was lay your head in your hands.

Shoko and Nanami could only smile.

“That answers that. Let’s get this stuff back in there.”

And even though it took your blubbery tears and another two hours, all your things were back where they belong. The moving boxes going back into some forgotten closet.

“But what am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just spring the whole baby thing on him. Like hey Gojo, sorry for lying to you back there but we’re actually married! And me being pregnant? Yeah, you guessed it, you’re the father!”

Shoko chuckled lightly as you hit her shoulder, “stop laughing, this is serious!”

Shoko stuffed her hands into her pockets and looked to Nanami again who had already placed a comforting hand onto your shoulder.

“Gojo…, despite being a man-child most of the time, is understanding. He may not remember, but I know he loves you too much to let you go. In fact, you don’t know this but during one of the many times he was annoying me about his relationship with you, he told me something…”

“What was it?”

“He told me how he fell in love with you the moment you met him.”

“But we-“

“Yeah, he also told me that, too. How you both first met at twelve years old. He said that he may not have understood what love was at the time, but he knew it could only be you.”

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Merry Ex-Mas - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Navy Officer!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Cheating/Infidelity (Not Between Reader and Rooster); Friends to Lovers; Romantic/Sexual Tension; Implied Sexual Content/Suggestive Content; Light Angst; Use of “You,” No Y/N

Summary: After surprising your boyfriend doesn’t go as planned, you spend Christmas with Rooster.

Master List

It was Christmas Eve morning and the house that you shared with Fritz, Phoenix, and Rooster was growing emptier by the hour. Phoenix left the night before, after you all got off work, to head to her brother’s house to spend the holidays there. Fritz left at the ass crack of dawn to drive almost half the day to be home with his family for a few days.

And you were getting ready to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas.

He told you that he was spending Christmas with some friends and because you knew his AirBnB password, you could see where he was staying. And after not seeing each other for five months, you knew that you needed to put in an effort to see him for the holidays. The two of you had been having a lot of fights lately and you were hoping that a Christmas together would help patch things up a little.

“You’re leaving soon too?” you asked Rooster, pulling on your coat.

“Yeah, probably in like two hours,” Rooster stated quietly, sitting at the kitchen island as you packed some snacks for your drive. He struggled to hide his disapproval of your choice as he glanced out the window for a moment. “You’re all packed up?”

“Yeah, I’ll get gas on the way to the highway and then I’ll just drive straight there,” you replied, glancing up to see Rooster’s expression as he turned to face you again. Sighing, you turned away from him. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I just don’t want you to drive all that way and be disappointed, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, gathering your last few things.

Bradley and your boyfriend didn’t get along. Actually, none of your friends really got along with your boyfriend. Granted, you complained about him a lot, but unlike the rest of your friends, Bradley didn’t even make an effort to try and get along with your boyfriend. The two of them just avoided each other whenever your boyfriend visited.

Rooster walked you out to your car, carrying your bag for you. You took it from him and moved to put it in the trunk. When you came walking around the car, he opened your door for you. Giving him a quick hug and smile, you slipped into your car.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” you promised him.

“Safe travels,” he returned quietly.

“You too.”

Rooster stood on the front steps of the house as you backed up. Once you were gone from his view, he headed back inside. Even though he told everyone that he had plans with people ‘from back home,’ Rooster was planning on celebrating the holiday alone.

As he pretty much had since he was eighteen, if he had it off.

So, he was just going to bake some cookies like he used to with his mom, watch some movies, and catch up on sleep. He didn’t tell anyone because he assumed that they’d try to drag him along with them and Bradley didn’t want to interrupt their holidays with their families. He didn’t want the pity.

He was just going to have a quiet holiday by himself. And he was okay with that.

~~~~~

You finally spotted the house. But you were a bit confused to only see one car in the driveway since your boyfriend listed off a bunch of names of people that were coming.

Parking behind your boyfriend’s car, you carefully shut the door and walked towards the house. Testing the door, you found that it was unlocked and let yourself inside. The sound of music quickly hit your ears and made you pause. You glanced around the rather fancy AirBnB when you noticed a pair of heeled boots that clearly belonged to a woman.

Frowning, you walked deeper into the house, keeping your steps light. You turned the corner and noticed the bedroom door ajar. Slowly cracking it open, you stood, shocked, when you saw your boyfriend and some woman that you’d never seen before fucking on the bed.

You stepped back from the door, your heart racing as you processed the image. But once you got over the initial shock, you jumped into action.

You started in the kitchen and stole the wine that they brought. Heading back outside, you stowed the wine in your car before you walked over to your boyfriend’s car. You let air out of his tires, not enough to be too obvious, but enough to cause problems—you wanted to drag that punishment out a bit more.

You walked back into the house and returned to the kitchen. Filling a bowl with ice cold water, you carried it to the bedroom. Opening the door as the music hid your footsteps, you tossed the water onto them, causing them to scream out in shock. Scrambling around, your boyfriend’s face noticeably paled when he saw you standing there.

“Baby—” he started, causing you to chuck the plastic bowl at him.

“Surprise,” you called sarcastically. Turning to the woman he was with, you added, “Nice meeting you. Have a wonderful Christmas with him.”

You turned on your heel and stormed out as your ex-boyfriend got to his feet. He pulled on his sweatpants and ran out after you, leaving the other woman alone in the bedroom, but you were in no mood to listen to him.

“It’s not my fault,” he stated, earning a scoff from you in return.

“You just accidentally lied to me, brought another woman up here by mistake, and then your dick just magically fell into her vagina? Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid?” you growled, turning to face him.

“You’re always working. And I love you and I cared about our relationship, but I was lonely.”

“Why didn’t you just break up with me? Why didn’t you grow a pair of balls and tell me that you were feeling that way?”

“I didn’t want to be the dick who broke up with you right before Christmas.”

“Oh, so you decided to be the dick who cheated on me right before Christmas instead?” you countered, raising your voice more.

“How do I know that you didn’t do the same? You’re literally living with a guy who’d fuck you if you let him,” your ex-boyfriend snapped back before adding, “Actually, are you fucking him? That would explain a hell of a lot to me.”

“You know what, have a great fucking life,” you replied, turning and heading out of the house. “I’m fucking done.” Reaching for the door handle, you yanked it open and sent one last glare back at him. “Merry fucking Christmas, dickhead.”

Getting into your car, you quickly backed down the driveway. You didn’t let the tears fall until you were on the highway.

It was already pitch black when you returned home, but it wasn’t too late. You could probably just make yourself a quick dinner and then soak in a bath by yourself and decompress. Unlocking the door, you dragged your bag inside and kicked off your shoes, not bothering to be quiet because you assumed that you were alone.

Bradley, who was still home, heard the noise and assumed that someone broke in. Sliding off his bed, he reached for his baseball bat. He held it aloft as he slowly crept out of his bedroom and down the stairs to confront the intruders.

You were lost in your own world, looking through the fridge. The bottle of wine that you stole from your ex was already open on the counter and you contemplated drinking all of it tonight. Closing the door to the fridge, you turned and screamed bloody murder when you spotted Bradley standing there with a baseball bat.

“What the fuck!?” you both shouted at the same time.

You dropped the container that you grabbed and jumped back. Bradley, quickly realizing that it was you, dropped the bat and let out a breath of relief. You held a hand to your heart and leaned back against the cabinet behind you, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” you both asked at the same time.

“You were supposed to leave after me,” you stated quietly, causing Bradley to wince.

“Yeah, uh . . . plans changed.”

“Did you have plans in the first place?” you asked him softly.

“. . . No.”

You nodded slowly without any judgment. You simply pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned back against the cabinets. Bradley noted the redness to your eyes and the subtle sniffle and tear stains on your cheeks before slowly walking over to you. Sitting down beside you, he reached up and grabbed the plate on the countertop.

“Cookie for your thoughts?” he offered, causing you to laugh softly.

“You bake?” you asked, picking up a sugar cookie.

“Only around Christmas,” he replied, putting the plate back. He stared at you for a moment before asking, “You want to talk about it?”

“You were right,” you stated, taking a bite of the cookie. Looking down, you chewed slowly. “I found him in bed with another woman.”

“That son of a bitch.” Bradley turned to you with a softer expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t cheat on me,” you replied bitterly, taking another bite of your cookie.

“What did you do?”

“I let the air out of his tires and dumped water on him and her when they were in bed. And I stole their wine,” you added with a laugh. “It’s about the little things.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He said that I worked too much and he felt lonely, both of which are perfectly fine, but I would have rather just preferred that he break up with me. And then when I told him that, he accused me of cheating on him.”

“With who?”

“You,” you answered honestly, turning back to him.

“Me?” he replied quietly.

“Yeah. He said you hated him.”

“That’s accurate, especially now,” Rooster agreed, nodding slowly. “Still, I’m sorry that you had to put up with that bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah,” you responded softly, staring into Rooster’s big brown eyes. “I do.” The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you added, “Do you think you can get the fire started?”

~~~~~

Tossing memories of your ex into the fire that Bradley started in the fireplace for you, you smiled over at Rooster as he started to play a song on the piano. He turned to you with a matching smile, pressing his fingers down on the keys.

“Old photos roasting on an open fire,” Bradley sang jokingly, causing you to crack up. “Black smoke nipping at your nose.”

“Just a little bit,” you defended yourself. “And we have the fire extinguisher.”

“I was the one who brought it in,” Bradley reminded you, causing you to turn away with a smile. “And I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry,” you teased, tossing another photo onto the fire. “Please, continue.”

Bradley sang another verse as you finished up with your reminders. Simply standing in front of the fire, you reached for your wine and savored the moment.

“Although it’s been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas,” Rooster sang, locking eyes with you again, “to you.” He finished the chord before slowly removing his fingers from the keys. With a softer look in his eyes, he added, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Bradley.”

The two of you continued to hold your shared stare as you slowly walked over to the piano. Bradley stared up at you as you stepped up beside him. He turned in his seat a bit, almost inviting you in. He didn’t make a move to reach for you, letting you dictate what happened, but he didn’t pull away when you slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He rested a hand on your cheek, matching your passion, and happily accepting you onto his lap.

~~~~~

There was a layer of frost on the sliding door on Christmas morning. The fire burned itself out the night before, but there was still a warmth that lingered in the room, even though the embers had lost their glow. While there were stockings hung up on the mantle, there was a collection of four socks—two pairs—on the rug. Accompanied by two pairs of pants, a sweater, a tank top, a bra, two pairs of underwear, and a partridge in a pear tree. On a tee shirt anyways.

Slowly coming out of your deep sleep, you cuddled further into Bradley’s chest. He was still asleep with his arm draped over your waist and his head resting on a pillow. He had thrown a thick blanket over the two of you the night before and you pulled it up and over your shoulders. You started to drift off to sleep again, but when you felt Bradley’s hand start to travel up and down your back in a soothing pattern, you picked your head up.

“Morning,” he greeted you, causing you to smile.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he returned, wrapping his arm just a little tighter around you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. You’re really warm,” you mused, resting your head on his chest again. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s Christmas.”

“Good point.” Sitting up, you offered Bradley a soft kiss in greeting. Pulling back, you held yourself up as Bradley’s smile grew. “So, what do you normally do, first thing on Christmas morning?”

“Unwrap presents of course.”

You pulled the blanket back over you as Bradley teased it down. Offering him a jokingly sharp look, you laid down against his chest.

“Make me breakfast first.”

“I can make us waffles,” Bradley offered, causing you to hum in agreement. “With strawberries.” You literally moaned as he added, “with whipped cream and maple syrup.”

“If you make me that, I’ll give you your present early,” you offered, pulling Bradley in for another kiss that he eagerly returned.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Bi Han living with reader hcs

(bullet points and blurbs) THIS WAS FOR AN INBOX ASK BUT I DELETED IT NOOO SHAWTY IM SO SORRY!!! I HOPE DIVINE INTERVENTION SENDS YOU THIS POST TELEPATHICALLY UR A STAR!

-Unless it’s for marriage, you would only move in with him if it was a matter of your safety. 

-Otherwise he would just trust you to manage on your own since if you can handle him you can handle anything in the world 

-Let’s say during a moment of conflict where a large percentage of earthrealm was a risk, he would ask (more like order) you to stay with him with the Lin Kuei. 

-Going to his quarters is like walking into an expensive furniture store and being afraid to get your commoner hands on anything at all. 

-You are left to settle your meagre belongings yourself, with strict instructions not to wander into the training compounds without a guide (read: himself), and though there were the usual lin kuei members patrolling about, you still felt incredibly isolated. 

-But the feeling goes from loneliness to an almost childlike wonder. It eventually leads to you taking a museum tour around the place like DAMN! This is what rich people's shampoo looks like! It’s… not very used… which is a little gross. 

-He comes back from his duties and is surprised when you greet him! Not in a cute way, in the way that you have to dodge tree trunk arms being swung at you like baseball bats. 

-The time you spend together is very mundane. Any energy he has is used on the Lin Kuei, which is understandable and honestly preferable because you get to be around a SLIGHTLY less high-strung bi han

-That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the energy to be insufferably tungsten-like when it came to nighttime

It seemed as though he had long settled his belongings into the intricate bedside drawer. He had yet to answer your question, leaving you to wonder if it had been in bad taste. You nervously tilt your head, trying to get a better view of him. You see Bi Han’s broad back, blocking the blue moonlight in a way reminiscent of Batman standing above Gotham skylines. The thought makes you snicker, a sound that’s soft in theory but almost echoes in the deathly quiet room. It makes his tense shoulders jump to his ears, and you can see his dark eyes dart to the very corners as if trying to get a glimpse of you without physically turning around. He stays perfectly still, like if he just didn’t breathe he could melt into the fabric of the bedsheets. 

The realisation dawns upon you like a humouring punch to the gut. Was he nervous? The big, bad grandmaster of Lin Kuei, nervous to have his partner in his bed? You have to throw yourself to face the other way, hand covering your mouth like it was a hostage situation. Unfortunately, a few stray cackles manage to escape you and this time you hear Bi Han scoff out a ‘is there something funny?’ 

It’s uncharacteristically strained, like a defensive child having to explain their search history. My god, he was really thrown off-kilter by you! The unintentional ego boost goes straight to your head as you readjust yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up in a position you could only hope came off as comedically seductive. The face you met with is priceless, a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and horror etched onto his sharp features. 

You let out a laugh that sounds more like a chicken squawking, one that’s unfortunately interrupted by a rock-hard grain pillow being hurled at your head. It lands perfectly, because Bi Han only ever does things perfectly, and the speed that you slump onto the bed has him wondering if he accidentally murdered the one person who tolerated him non-professionally. 

He barks out your name, and groans when he hears you laughing from under your potential murder weapon. It’s not as amusing to him as it is for you, seeing as by the time you’ve freed yourself he’s turned his back to you with the air of an unforgiving housewife. No matter how much you grovel and paw at his head and back he refuses to say anything, but you know he’s awake because he flinches whenever you poke his sides. 

Bi Han huffs like a guard dog when you stop pestering him (because common misconception, you did need to sleep as well) and right as you're drifting off to sleep you feel the bed shift, and the pleasant coolness of his body temperature a little closer. 

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-You two can share the wonderful joy of standing shoulder to shoulder making your respective morning drinks and judging each other for it

-Bi Han have you considered that you are a cranky bat because you don’t have coffee in the morning 

-Haha. You are so Funny. Have you considered the fact that you are stuck in the bathroom for an hour in the morning because of it.

-Too far Bi han too far

-During his daily duties, like while he watches his little foot goons do their drills he sometimes spaces out and wonders what you are doing back in his quarters. 

-If he sees you walking around the compound, god forbid trying to get your 10k steps in he has to do a triple take, then storms towards you with the intention of an air strike. 

When he sees your familiar mop of head peek through the intricate pillars of the Lin Kuei compound, it’s like an alarm goes off in his head. Thankfully he had been alone, travelling from supervising two training grounds; so he has time to get to you personally. The way your face lights up almost qualms the lecture brewing in his mind, but then he remembers what happened the last time you were left alone with a room of his men (the lin kuei had never been so close to unionising. God fears the scorn of a charismatic woman.) 

“What did I tell you about leaving alone without a guide? I cannot have you wandering aimlessly like a lost child.” It’s a tirade that he’s gone through countless times, and it’s more of a custom than meaning any of the words. You also seem to know, with how you barely raise an eyebrow at his stern words. A cheeky smile carves your cheeks as you stick out an elbow, and even as he continues his rant he subconsciously goes to link your arms together. 

“I have a guide, do I not? And a very handsome one.” You sound collected and suave, but even he can see the way you high-five yourself for thinking of that pick-up line. He wants to frown, but the dopamine he gets from the flattery has him frowning happily, trying to bite back a snort.

-Hes not kicking his feet giggling when he sees you after a day of work… but hes not NOT twirling his hair and shuffling in place

-Gets mad when you don’t run up to him the moment he goes through the door

-Ok diva

[pendragon1400]

Elfsong

Do you ever think about how messed up the staff at Elfsong are after the party stays there?

Tav traveling with Gale, Astarion and Shadowheart, looking like a respectable adventuring team: "Excuse good sir, is there a room we could rent?"

innkeeper is all: "Eh, everyone else has been staying away due to the gruesome murders, sure. In fact pay me more and you can have the entire upstairs."

Tav: "Wonderful! We should get the rest of the party, I think everyone will be happy to have a bed again!"

Innkeeper: "Uh, okay we do have ample space up there. Remember if you need food you can order it."

*Cut to the rest of the party showing up*

Wyll: "Our campions rented the room upstairs. Is there anyone to help with our belongings?"

Karlach lifting two trunks, "No need for all that! Just show us where the room is."

Lae'zel carrying a trunk and backpack: "If that man is not giving you the key, I am sure we can find another way inside."

Innkeeper: "Apologizes, uh is that an owl bear?"

Halsin gently guiding Scratch and the Owl Bear cub inside.

Innkeeper: "You have an Owl bear...A dog...and"

Minsc: And a miniature giant space hamster!"

Innkeeper: "Right...Well it's upstairs. Enjoy you're stay..."

The innkeeper just watches in utter confusion and mild panic as the entire group troupes up the stairs followed by Withers, Mizora, Duke Raven guard for some reason and Shadowheart's parents.

Also the food requests would be a nightmare.

"I'm just saying all you need to do is add some spice. It is lifeless!"

Tav: "GALE STOP ARGUING WITH THE KITCHEN AND GO TO BED!"

Astarion: "Oh, do they have any more blood from the beef roast?"

Edit: I compeletly forgot about Aylin and Isobel. So on top of all these people in walks the moon maiden loving holding hands with her angel wife. Also Yenna and their cat is there as well.

[joshfutturman]

"you have me, you always have"

oneshot (request) - you and clapton have been in a 'will they won't they' type relationship for years, you're best friends - but is that all you want? (2.3k words) pairing - clapton davis (detention) + reader (gender neutral) tags: making out / kissing, moans (oops :3), feelings realisation, will they won't they, suggestive scenes, no use of y/n, vague alcohol mention, cursing

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

clapton. davis. what could you say about clapton davis? you had been best friends for as long as you could remember. it was always just easy with him. you never had to try too hard or try to be funny - he just got you, and you got him.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

notes: this was SO much fun!!! thank you so so much for the request @rhilove1234 ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵◌₎♡ - you're officially the first request of this account! i hope this was alright for you ٩( ´◡` )

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

clapton. davis. what could you say about clapton davis? you had been best friends for as long as you could remember. it was always just easy with him. you never had to try too hard or try to be funny - he just got you, and you got him.

it was actually kind of poetically perfect that you two had applied to the same college together and had been accepted, a miracle too. clapton had the lowest gpa you'd ever heard of, but with his interest in music and the passion he clearly had for the history behind it - the college took kindly to that. you wondered if he offered to create a mix-tape for the assessors. there must have been some sort of bribe involved.

there was a time when he'd told you of his fear of the future, how he'd rather stay in the present. you remember this moment vividly, the two of you sat on your front lawn, stars sprawling above you as the world grew quiet. clapton nervously fidgeted with a blade of grass and you watched on. "the present is good, what's so wrong with wanting to stay here?" he spoke quietly, as though he knew that he didn't really believe what he was saying.

"well, yeah, the present is pretty cool," you smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours - this earned a smile from him, "but. . . don't you wanna see what's out there? who's out there?"

his eyes perked up from the blade of grass and settled on you for a few moments before darting across the street. his smile turned softer, shyer. clapton had all he wanted, right here.

the journey towards the college would take a couple of hours and clapton offered to give you a ride. your hands shook as you packed your belongings into his trunk. he watched from the side, eyebrows furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek. once you were both settled into the small red car, clapton set off. but not before he reached his hand over, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

he didn't let go for the entire journey.

the dorm room was pretty much what you were expecting, cramped, but decent. your roommate, damon, offered a smile to both of you as clapton helped you inside with your luggage. with a warm, tight hug and a small cheeky kiss on the cheek that you laughed off and so did he, clapton left. not before he sheepishly eyed your roommate, though. they exchanged a look, and it made your eyebrow raise as you gingerly rubbed the skin where his lips had been.

as soon as that door closed, damon piped up. "your boyfriend?"

a laugh erupted from you. clapton? your boyfriend? you hadn't even kissed, how could you possibly be dating? was it the kiss on the cheek? that doesn't count. you were best friends. there were no feelings there. clapton davis? dating? never. that damn skateboard had his heart. yeah. it wasn't like you had feelings for him that were bubbling below the surface, threatening to escape after every interaction. it's not like you wanted to ask him if this was something more. and it definitely wasn't like you had thought about pushing him against the lockers every day and kissing him like time was running out, or that you imagined him taking his hand in yours, for real - nah.

best friends. that's all it was.

but that comment remained firmly in your mind. it had been a few weeks and you couldn't shake it. was this really something more? could it be, even?

clapton was the kind of guy who could win anyone around, practically everyone he had ever met had fallen in love with him in some capacity. sure, he could be an ass when it came to his music opinions and that adorable sting fixation could be grating - but not to you. it was exactly that, adorable. he was like this with everyone, right?

even in class, you found it hard to focus. he'd insist on sitting behind you or beside you so he could pester you. in this particular lecture, he was behind. clapton leans back, swinging in his chair as he eyes the back of your head, caught in a daydream.

he sighs, deeply. clapton often looked at you like this when you weren't looking. he would desperately try to think of something to say to make you laugh, to catch your attention, to have your eyes fall on him even just for a little while. he flips open his little black notebook and peers at the bullet-pointed contents. 'say something funny, say something witty, wear their favourite colour, tell them you like them.' he hastily shut the book.

leaning over, his fingers brush your hair behind your ear. you immediately felt goosebumps spread across your neck and a tingle ran down your spine like lightning. a blush burned deep in your cheeks. "do. . . you got a pen i could borrow?" clapton whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

with a hard swallow, you passed a pen backwards and offered him a quick smile before looking straight ahead again, gritting your teeth to firmly push those thoughts from your head.

best. friends. that's all it was.

these thoughts led to you avoiding him, avoiding one on one time. it was better to stay in a group when you were with him, or was it? damon wasn't the last person to ask if you guys were dating. and you saw clapton's face when he was asked, the laugh he gave people - clearly he thought it was a joke too.

it was fine, it was going to be fine. one of your classmates had invited you to a house party that night, this would surely take your mind off things. you'd get some space, more space from clapton and maybe you'd find someone new. maybe he'd find someone new.

your stomach churned at the thought.

walking inside, you relished the sound of conversation from all sides. there wasn't any space to listen to your thoughts in here and that's exactly the kind of escape you wanted. shoulders rising and falling with a sigh of relief, you find the kitchen. a drink in hand and you definitely feel more relaxed. yeah, things were going to work out. things were-

clapton.

your eyes fixate on him from across the room. he's on the sofa, surrounded by people. they're chatting to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. you notice when he laughs, they do too. they're hanging on his every word and they love it. they're too far away for you to make out their conversation, but you can tell that clapton is enjoying telling the story. he always did like attention - and not in a conceited way, he just naturally attracted people.

and then, his eyes met yours.

eyes widening, you look away and down the rest of your drink. a few seconds later, you started to leave the kitchen area to retreat towards the cramped hallway. clapton called out to you, telling you to wait, to 'come join him'. you didn't listen, but if you'd stayed a few seconds longer, you might have heard that the story he had enjoyed telling so much was about you and him.

in the hallway, you gathered yourself and ran your fingers through your hair. it wasn't long before you heard clapton approaching too, though, and you let out a soft grunt of frustration. "trouble in paradise?" someone muttered and you shot them an icy glare. the door to the backyard ahead, you left and slammed it behind you.

the cold atmosphere hit you and your cheeks were hotter than you realised. it felt as though you could actually breathe in the night air. but when you heard the door handle turn and clapton exit, you felt just as tense again.

"what the hell is going on with you?" he speaks in a firm but confused tone, there was a hint of hurt in there. the brunette approached you from behind and stopped just shy of you. "you've been acting weird for weeks, ignoring me, rejecting every single offer to hang out - did i do something wrong?"

that last sentence hurts you, it hurt to think of him wondering if he'd upset you. "no." is all you manage to say.

night envelops you both, the quiet thumping of the music from inside fills the silence in between your words.

"then, what?" he asks and you can hear him almost stomp his feet.

"people keep asking me if we're. . . a thing and i thought. . . well i thought it would be better if we kept some distance, that's all." you said with a shrug, folding your arms firmly.

silence falls around you both for a few moments. you wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was beating in your chest, as though it were threatening to escape.

and then you could feel his presence behind you, his head near your shoulder, lips close to your ear. ". . . is that what you want?" clapton asked, his breath shaking slightly.

the closeness was almost too much to handle. your stomach in knots, it trips over itself, desperately trying to untangle the anxious mess inside. of course distance wasn't what you wanted.

he mutters your name softly into your ear, placing a hand on your hip and you snap, turning quickly with clenched fists. you want to yell, you want to ask him what you both are, you want to tell him to piss off - you want him.

fuck, you want him.

clapton raises his hands slightly to give you space and looks rather defeated, those hazel puppy dog eyes veering to the left to avert your heated gaze. but he then stands still, slowly his eyes return to yours and he can see conflict behind your eyes. gaining a little more of his confidence back, he puffs out his chest and takes a step closer. you noticed how his hands still shook though, despite that secure stance.

you held his gaze as he approached, your own hands shaking in turn. he almost commanded your attention with those eyes. and you realise in that moment that clapton sees you. he really sees you. he always has. you crave him, like it's been years since you both touched, his soft skin against yours.

"is that. . . what you want?" he repeats, bringing you out of your thoughts and he's firmer this time. you are inches from one another.

his hand snakes towards your neck along your supple skin, cupping against your jaw, thumb resting on your cheek. you can't help but let out a small gasp in response as your hand comes up to rest on his wrist. your cheek nuzzles into his touch, warm, safe.

"i want you." you finally admit, words trembling from your mouth, a short laugh following suit as if it was so silly to hear it out loud.

clapton's eyes sparkle and stare back into yours. you notice how his whole face lights up, unable to hide the smile pulling on his lips. "you have me, you always have." he admits with a soft chuckle like it was so obvious.

and then he kisses you, he kisses you like he's hungry, like he's starving. your lips collide, your eyes close and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. you come undone. clapton wraps an arm around you to pull your body closer to his and you trail a hand up the back of his neck to grip that messy, adorable hair. his tongue slips into your mouth and you welcome it, feeling warmth rise in your belly.

you never wanted to let go, you never wanted to stop. his hand firmly on your neck and a strong hand on your back, he held you tightly. though you tried to suppress it, a little sigh of pleasure escapes and you can feel him smirk proudly through the kiss. it causes him to hold you tighter in response and your other hand grips his shirt for stability.

the cold air nips at your skin but it's a welcome sensation against the fervency of the kiss. his hand slides around your neck to the back of your head, his fingers lacing into the back of your hair causing ripples of tingles across your shoulders. you whisper his name into his mouth and it comes out in a pleading tone - but you're not sure what you're pleading for.

he gives you what you want, despite you yourself not knowing what that was. a gentle tug on your hair and his firm hand trailing down your side to tug at the bottom of your shirt cheekily. a giggle erupts from your lips as you pull away just enough to let it out, eyeing him with a smirk.

before you know it, your hand is in his and your eyes are drawn to watch your hands tangle together. it amazes you how perfectly they fit, his digits sneaking into yours with a thumb caressing your skin. it felt right. this was exactly what you wanted. it felt different from the other times, more tender, more meaningful. he gives your hand a gentle squeeze and you meet his gaze once more.

"so," he speaks up, breathless, "is our anniversary now or is it when i thought we were actually dating all those years ago?"

you can't help but laugh, breathless too. "oh my god," you roll your eyes, "shut up."

[motomamita]

eddie munson × fairy!reader

warnings: smut, +18, dubcon by reader, tighs fuck, fantasy creatures.

Influenced by the sunny and cool days in Hwakins, Eddie decided to go camping outside the town on his own. Serious mistake.

Without a compass and in the middle of the forest, Eddie was lost in the cold night. Things got even worse when, in complete darkness, he did not notice where he was stepping and fell down a small ravine, hitting his head and remaining unconscious for several hours.

Fairy!reader, who had been watching him for hours, tried to fight her instincts and not meddle with humans. However, her conscience would not be clear if she left Eddie unconscious and alone in the darkness of the forest.

Carefully, she managed to drag him to her small house inside the trunk of a large tree, a few meters from where he had fallen. She laid him down on her bed, covered him with some bushes, and began to clean his notable wounds. It was not the first time she saw a human, the forest used to be filled with hunters during certain seasons and many of them came to be relatively close to her territory. The difference was that she had never seen one so close, much less bringing him to her place, her refuge.

When Eddie's wounds were clean, she went to her small kitchen and started a small fire to make her herbal tea. Meanwhile, Eddie was still unconscious and unable to attack her if he wanted to. She approached him and looked at him carefully. She started with his face, his long eyelashes, his nose, the small acne scars on his skin and his pink lips. Curious, she touched that last part with her fingertips, surprised by how soft it was. Then she continued with his neck to his chest and watched as it rose with each of his breaths. Finally she reached his pants.

Within the world of fairies, men were scarce compared to women, and the few men that could be found were characterized by their extreme shyness. Fairy!reader had never had the opportunity to be with any man, neither fairies nor humans. At first she didn't care, she preferred to stay alone but calm in her small home, planting flowers and herbs, and communicating with the small animals that passed by. However, her curiosity, and need, began to grow as time went by. That led her to watch the hunters from afar, admiring their strong muscles and masculine aromas, so contrasting with the delicacy that characterized her species. She soon discovered that those hunters were not good people, because they only went to her forest to kill animals and destroy nature as if it belonged to them.

But Eddie, he didn't seem like that type. He just walked through the forest, collecting stones with strange shapes and taking polaroids of the most colorful flowers, without tearing them from their place. Even with his face unconscious, his expression looked serene and sweet. Equally or more charming than the fairies you've ever heard of.

Seeing him there, at her mercy was tempting. She knew the risks she was running by having him there, he could wake up at any moment and break her delicate wings. But hee curiosity was greater, so greater that she did not mind losing his life there.

Sh sat on hee bed and carefully she brought her hand to his belly, caressing it over his shirt and lowering her hand to his pants. Eddie remained unfazed and that encouraged her to go much further. She touched his crotch over his pants, curious to know if human men were at all similar to fairies. Eddie whined still unconscious at the touch. For a moment she thought about walking away and going to see the tea, but he raised his hips slightly in search of more. She continued to feel him over the fabric, noticing how his member slowly hardened and Eddie seemed even more restless in his unconsciousness.

Little by little she lowered his pants and underwear, exposing his member to her. The fairy observed in shock what was in front of her: Eddie's member was hard and erect, dripping small beads of precum and contracting slightly as if asking for her attention. A heat invaded her, something almost fierce and uncontrollable that she couldn't explain. Is this what it felt like to be in love?

She brought one of hee hands to Eddie's member, squeezing it slightly and noticing how more liquid came out of its pink tip. She moved her hand up and down in a slow rhythm, experimenting and observing his reactions. Eddie's hips moved in response to that agonizing rhythm, almost begging for her to increase the pace and help him reach his climax. That's how she did it, with greater confidence and noticing that he was asking her for something but she didn't know what.

"Yes... Keep it up... my love..." were the words that came out of Eddie's mouth, who was slowly beginning to wake up. His muscles began to tense, announcing the arrival of his orgasm.

She continued her movements, encouraged by Eddie's husky voice. As if it were a bucket of water, Eddie opened his eyes and noticed his surroundings in fear. That wasn't his house and he didn't even have a girlfriend who treated him the way they were doing at that moment. He quickly got up from the bed, not caring about ruining his orgasm, and covered himself as best he could with her underwear.

She jumped out of bed when he woke up and almost ran to one of the corners of her small room, keeping her distance so as not to scare Eddie more. He, with his rapid breathing, looked at her carefully, noticing her shiny wings and her peculiar way of dressing. He looked around, everything was made with natural things and the occasional object from civilization.

"Where I am?" He asked agitatedly, looking at the girl, who only smiled kindly at him.

"In my home." she answered obviously. "You fell and became unconscious. I rescued you and brought you here." Eddie touched his head and noticed a small bandage made of leaves, as well as scratches on his arms that were clean. Inevitably his gaze dropped to his painful erection covered by his underwear. "I just want to help." she murmured almost pleadingly.

Eddie observed her in greater detail, admiring every element that made that girl, or creature, something hypnotic for him. Her head decorated with bird feathers, her dress was made of small leaves of multiple colors that hugged her curves well and left her thighs exposed. Her wings moved slightly, continuing to release small flashes of light.

The simple image of that unknown fairy who had rescued him, cured him and sought to keep him alive excited him enormously. In his daily life he had never received the attention of the girls around him, and that supernatural beauty showed appreciation for him, an ordinary man. Eddie relaxed and decided to give himself completely to her. In short, if she had wanted to kill him, she would have done it before.

"You want to help me?" He asked receiving a nod of her head in response. "Come closer, little fairy.." Eddie undid his underwear and his member was exposed again. She approached him slowly, dazzling him with her natural beauty. "Give me your hand.."

She obeyed without hesitation and extended her hand to him. Eddie grabbed it and admired for a few seconds how delicate and small it was compared to his own. Then, he spit into her palm, wetting her skin with his warm saliva. Attentive to every movement, Eddie guided her to his member and made her resume her movements. He closed his eyes at the pleasurable sensation and cursed under his breath, enjoying the sensation.

"I'm going to cum soon- can I fuck your thighs? Please, please.." He begged, opening his eyes, looking at her tenderly. She, noticing his desperation, nodded without stopping moving her hands on his hard member.

Eddie, without waiting any longer, grabbed her hips and brought her close to him. His large, swollen cock fit perfectly between her thighs, giving him a warm, soft welcome. Desperately, he moved his hips, fucking her thighs and wetting them with his saliva. When he lowered his gaze, he met her bright eyes who seemed to be in some kind of tranquility, stunned by his actions. From his height, Eddie had a good view of her breasts while he felt her nipples harden against his clothing.

Eddie's cock moved in and out, rubbing against her pussy and giving her a sensation of ecstasy she had never felt before. He looked into her eyes, connecting glances and losing himself from his reality, concentrating only on his pleasure. He carefully hug her even more, taking care not to hurt her fragile wings and flooding her with her floral aroma.

Soon, his orgasm reached him and he had no choice but to allow himself to be invaded by it. With a loud moan, Eddie came, staining the fairy's thighs and pussy with his thick, white semen. She, noticing his agitated breathing, hugged him, bringing him even closer if he came close to her, offering him a series of support until his ecstasy subsided.

When they separated, Eddie lifted his pants, sat on the bed and soon noticed the mess he had left on her. He carefully took his bandana and cleaned the fairy's skin, who looked at him almost pleased with his detail. Then, both of them locked eyes and he was the first to speak.

"Thank you, little one." He said almost embarrassed by what just happened.

"It doesn't matter!" She responded with a sweet smile, almost as if everything before had not bothered her. "I'm glad I helped you." She combed his hair with hee hands and suddenly her wings tensed, letting a bit of glitter fall to the dirt floor. "I just remembered that I made you some tea! I don't want you to leave without being completely healthy!" she spoke to him with care and then walked to the small fire she had made.

Eddie looked at her from his spot and smiled tenderly. Maybe going camping alone wasn't a bad idea after all.

[mika-mp3]

The treasure is all mine!

-chapter one-

(Prologe, chapter two)

Genshin Impact x Creator!Reader

warnings: no y/n used, slight yandere behavior, possible spelling errors and maybe a bit off to the Aranara Story (but I've read lots about it in the wiki so should be fine)

summary: Aramasu offers you to come to the Aranara Village, you agree and enjoy it at first but soon notice someting off

characters: Arana, Arama, you , Araja, (Aranara!OC:) Aramasu

word count: 1756

wattpad story here

(here are pictures of the Aranaras if it makes your reading experience better)

Nara = Human Vana = Forest

https://pin.it/6cQzybFhG

"Perhaps," Aramasu continues, its voice carrying a gentle, melodic resonance, "you are more than what you think you are. The forest knows you, and so do I."

You pause, considering Aramasu's words. "I don't remember anything from before. I don't even know my own name."

Aramasu looks thoughtful for a moment, its eyes reflecting a deep, ancient wisdom. "Names are important, but even without one, you are still you. You need a place to rest, to think. Come with me to Mahavanaranapna, where we live. You can stay until you find your name."

"Mahavana- what?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What is that?"

"Mahavanaranapna is home. Located in Varana, Hidden from Nara eyes, safe and warm. It's our village, with houses made of leaves and branches. Beautiful lakes, giant trees, plants protecting us. It is invisible to all eyes that aren't supposed to find us, I'll take you there."

You nod, a deep sense of gratitude welling up inside you. "Thank you, Aramasu. I would like that."

With that, Aramasu begins to float ahead, guiding you deeper into the forest. The journey is enchanting; each step you take brings the forest more vividly to life. You pass by flowers that emit a soft, ethereal glow, their petals shimmering like tiny stars. Streams murmur happily as they weave through the underbrush, their clear waters reflecting the sunlight in a dance of liquid light. The trees seem to hum with an ancient, serene energy, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind.

As you walk, the scenery grows ever more vibrant. The trees tower majestically overhead, their thick, emerald leaves forming a lush canopy that filters the sunlight into beams of golden light, casting intricate, shifting patterns on the forest floor. The air is fresher here, imbued with the scent of blooming flowers, rich earth, and the faintest hint of wild herbs.

After what feels like a timeless journey, you arrive at a hidden entrance. A colossal tree, its trunk twisted and intertwined with thick vines, stands before you. As Aramasu approaches, the vines gracefully part, revealing a path that seems to beckon you forward into a secluded realm.

"This is Mahavanaranapna," Aramasu says with a hint of pride, its voice almost a song.

You step through the archway and are greeted by a breathtaking sight. The village is nestled around a vast, crystal-clear lake, its serene surface reflecting the towering trees and a kaleidoscope of colorful foliage. Quaint houses, crafted from natural materials and adorned with leaves and moss, blend seamlessly into the vibrant landscape. Giant trees with immense trunks stand sentinel around the village, their branches forming a protective canopy that feels both sheltering and sacred.

Aranaras of various shapes and sizes go about their daily activities, some tending to the verdant plants, others making music and playing by the lakeside. They glance curiously in your direction but their eyes hold no fear, only a gentle curiosity and warmth.

"I will talk to the others," Aramasu says. "You are welcome to stay, to rest. Maybe here, you will find answers."

You look around, taking in the serene beauty and harmony of Vanarana. Despite the uncertainty about your past and identity, a profound sense of hope and belonging fills your heart.

"Thank you, Aramasu. I think this is exactly what I need."

As you settle into the village, you feel a warm wave of acceptance from the Aranaras and the forest itself. This hidden sanctuary offers not just safety and rest, but a chance to discover who you truly are. The journey to uncover your past and your identity has just begun, and with the guidance of the Aranara and the magic of the forest, you feel ready to face whatever lies ahead.

Months have passed since that fateful day. You have spoken to many Aranaras, each with different interests, personalities, and stories. They are just like normal people. Normal people? What does that even mean anymore? You can't recall what normal is, but it doesn't matter now. You've made friends—very good friends—friends who stand by you and help you uncover the truth about yourself. At least thats what you think. Araja, the village chief, accepted your presence and has grown quite fond of you over time. He too sensed something special about you but never divulged further details.

Sadly, you still don't know your name. However, you did discover a particular dish that you enjoy. On days when frustration weighed heavily on you due to a lack of progress, Aramasu and the others would prepare that dish to lift your spirits. The name of the dish was difficult to pronounce, not being in your native language, but that never hindered your enjoyment.

Each day, you delved deeper into the community, learning and sharing moments that felt both new and strangely familiar. You participated in their daily activities, from tending to plants to joining in their joyous celebrations. The Aranaras' simple yet profound way of life became a source of comfort and inspiration. Despite the challenges and the ongoing mystery of your identity, you found solace in the bond you shared with your new friends. They taught you to find joy in the present, even as you searched for answers. And while the journey to uncover your past continued, the warmth and kindness of the Aranaras made the journey a little easier.

At least for a while.

It was a morning like any other. You woke up, greeted your friends, and enjoyed a simple breakfast before taking a walk. Arana, one of your closest friends, usually accompanied you, sharing stories along the way. Later, you listened to the Aranaras' delightful music, a cheerful and soothing melody that filled the air. Arama had taught you how to make flower crowns, so you often found yourself sitting in the grass, surrounded by your friends, weaving pretty flowers into delicate crowns. As the day passed, you felt a sense of contentment. By the time evening fell, you gathered for dinner, the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the village. After dinner, you retreated to one of the cozy houses to rest. Each day followed this familiar rhythm, a comforting routine of friendship and tranquility.

However, despite the lovely stories and enchanting music that changed each day, you felt a stirring within—a desire for something more. The villagers often warned, "Vana can be very dangerous!" You understood the forest held dangers, yet your curiosity and yearning to explore the unknown parts of this land remained strong. The beauty and peace of your daily life in Vanarana were undeniable, but the call of the mysterious forest beyond your safe haven was growing louder. You wanted to see more of Vana, to experience its wonders and challenges firsthand.

It didn't make you happy. Sure, it was a peaceful life, but besides the stories, you had learned nothing—nothing about yourself or this world. The lack of progress became increasingly frustrating. Whenever you mentioned the idea of leaving Vanarana, the Aranaras grew defensive, almost… hostile? Surely, that was just your imagination. They had been so kind before. Why would they want to keep you here against your will?

Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling. The longer you stayed, the more you felt trapped. Your longing gaze often drifted to the horizon, wishing you could soar through the sky like the birds, flying toward freedom. Every day, your desire to explore the unknown parts of Vana grew stronger, and the village's comforting embrace began to feel like a cage.

That's it. You are done.

Determined, you decided it was time to break free. The forest, with all its mysteries and dangers, called out to you. You needed answers, and you realized that staying in Vanarana wasn't going to provide them. The beauty of the village had lost its charm, replaced by an insistent need to discover your true self and the secrets this world held.

No more waiting. No more wondering. It was time to take your fate into your own hands.

Packing your bags with a few supplies, a blanket, and one last flower crown for memory, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Sorrow, that describes your feelings pretty well. This village, with its serene beauty and gentle inhabitants, had been your home for months. Leaving it behind felt like leaving the part of yourself that you just found. Yet, despite the sadness, there was also a glimmer of excitement. The unknown world beyond Vanarana beckoned, filled with the promise of discovery and the hope of finding your true identity.

You took one last look around the small house that had been your shelter, your sanctuary. The familiar scent of the fresh forest air mingled with the earthy aroma of the village. Memories of laughter, shared meals, and quiet moments of reflection played in your mind. You gently placed the flower crown in your bag, its vibrant petals a poignant reminder of the friendships and bonds you had formed.

The Aranaras had been kind, but you couldn't ignore the defensive looks and wary glances whenever you mentioned leaving. It only fueled your determination. You needed to find out who you were, and you knew you wouldn't find those answers within the confines of the village.

As you slung the bag over your shoulder, a sense of resolve settled within you. Stepping outside, the village was quiet, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The giant trees cast long shadows, and the stillness was almost tangible. You took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs, and began to walk.

Every step away from Vanarana felt like a step toward your destiny. The path ahead was unknown and undoubtedly fraught with challenges, but it also held the promise of adventure and self-discovery. With each stride, your sorrow was tempered by a growing curiosity and the thrill of what lay beyond.

You glanced back once, taking in the sight of the village one last time. The Aranaras were nowhere to be seen, but you knew they would understand, eventually. They had given you a place to belong when you had none, and for that, you were grateful.

Turning back to the path ahead, you embraced the uncertainty. Your journey was just beginning, and with the forest stretching out before you, the world was full of possibilities.

With a final look at Mahavanaranapna, you whispered a quiet farewell and stepped into the unknown, ready to uncover the mysteries of Vana and the secrets of your own past.

https://pin.it/5CQX3f1ed

Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

Mika

Taglist: - @wutap

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Torn from the future- Chapter 1

Tom Riddle X Fem!Reader

Summary- After tampering with a Time Turner, you find yourself back in 1942. You decide that your best chance of improving the future is by befriending a certain man named Tom Riddle. You've heard of him before, but never in a positive light. Will you be his key to power or salvation?

Warnings for this chapter- Mentions of death and war, Stealing

Time travel has always been controversial in the Wizarding World. The Ministry in particular has taken to keeping any form of Time Travel under wraps as to prevent Wizards from dabbling in the illegal form of magical transportation.

Now with the Second Wizarding War quickly approaching, this dangerous threat was overruled by your desperation to change the past and prevent this whole mess from happening. The sorrows of your friends, the loss, the unnecessary violence and rift between wizards and muggles, even further than it already was.

Hermione had recently been popping in and out of lessons unnoticed and denied knowing what you or your friends had accused her of. You knew she had a Time Turner. If you had that, you could find a way to fix things yourself.

The smart thing to do would be to inform your friends so that they could help you but losing them was something that you couldn't bear. Your only hope was to take the time turner and figure it out alone.

Luckily there was no need to fret about your plan since you shared a dorm room with her. You waited until nightfall when the famous Golden Trio left Gryffindor tower, claiming to be sick yourself to stay behind and search for the it

The thing about your dear friend was that she was a perfectionist, not only in her schoolwork, but especially in her living quarters. If even a single paper was out of place, she would scream at you for days. But at times like this, where the whole group was stressed enough as it was, you could easily get by that little issue... hopefully.

Going through her belongings proved more difficult than initially intended, considering you never actually witnessed her putting the Time Turner anywhere away in your dorm, at least not while the both of you were present. She was actually quite protective of the thing, which you could understand given the gravity behind it all.

Digging through the trunk at the bottom of her bed, you searched through a dozen sweaters before finding a hidden compartment tucked away in the bottom corner. Surprisingly it seemed that Hermione had opted to leave the thing behind, too afraid of losing it on their unpredictable outing.

Hurriedly tucking the pocket watch into your bag, along with your journal, you got up from the floor of your dorm and made your way out of Gryffindor Tower.

Hours ticked by with you sitting on the ground of the restricted section. Books were scattered open around you in a circle while you chewed absentmindedly on your thumb nail, a nervous habit that you were too focused to pay attention to at the moment.

Thoughts and plans, one after another swirled in your mind continuously. A headache began forming from it, as you continued to reach dead ends. No plans that you came up with seemed to work well enough. Not to mention the fact that you never actually learned how to use the Time Turner before stealing it. You blamed that fact on your stress and desperation. Normally, you would plan out your actions meticulously but not this time.

Finally, it hit you. Harry's parents, Sirius and Remus, Even Regulus. You could save them all and prevent the heartache. It was simple in your mind, you would go back to the 1970's to save as many people as you possibly could. Maybe you could warn them somehow, or at least prepare them ahead of time for what was to come. It was the only way.

It's not as if you were afraid of participating in the war alongside your friends, it was just that you couldn't possibly stand by and watch your friends die beside you in the bloodshed and horror of war.

Pulling out the pocket watch from your bag, you decided to take the Time Turner apart piece by piece and rewire it to take you further back in time. Normal Time Turners would only send you back a maximum of five hours, which wouldn't have worked for anything you had planned.

Consequences by damned, you thought as you opened the Time Turner and began poking around at the mechanisms inside. The diagrams in the book made absolutely no sense. They only contained detailed drawings of the watch, but previously there had been no history of ever tampering with one.

Ticking began to get louder and louder. The books on the shelves rattled violently as if sensing the worst. You raised your eyes from the Time Turner in your hand and your eyes widened slightly, looking around to see what was happening.

Your finger slipped and accidentally grazed a metal coil that was exposed. Blood dripped down and the watch sizzled from the intrusion. A bright flash of light startled you and threw you back into the bookshelf, causing a copy of Dark Witches and Wizards Through History to crash down on your head.

Time shifted, books disappearing from their place on the shelves, dust cleared, and the watch rattled as you tried to clasp it tightly. Instantly the world faded and the last thing your blurry vision saw was the room spinning fast as you collapsed to the floor.

The creaking of footsteps in the library outside the Restricted Section was what woke you up. Your head pounded and you lifted your hand to place it on the top of your head. Sitting up to regain your balance, you rested your back against the bookshelf, albeit much more carefully than before.

There were no books on the ground anymore, it was only you alone. That should've been your first indication that something wasn't right, but your head hurt far too much for you to worry about your current surroundings.

After shoving the pieces of the Time Turner back into your bag, you finally stood up and made your way out of the library, cautiously avoiding the librarian or wandering Prefects. The only thing on your mind was getting back to your dorm and figuring your next course of action.

The hallways were deathly quiet, not a single person in sight. It must've been far later in the night than you had remembered.

You had almost made it to the Gryffindor Tower when you heard a deep voice speak from behind you.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, his voice calm and authoritative. You must've gotten stopped by a teacher. Being prepared for a lecture, you raised your hands as you slowly turned around to face him.

"I was-" Your eyes widened as you saw him, words failing you. This boy was around your age, with dark eyes that bore into your soul.

He raised his eyebrow, the tiniest hint of acknowledgment before his expression became emotionless once more. "I know everyone in this school and I have never seen you before. Follow me"

It wasn't a request as he walked ahead, down the hallway. Never once did he look back, clearly expecting you to follow behind blindly. You weren't sure if it was the headache, but you obeyed for the time being.

A/N- Please like/repost/comment and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is always encouraged and appreciated. If I left out an important trigger warning, please let me know and ill add it.

This Series is inspired by Time Warp, written by @astonishment, but I won't be tagging them in every part since that would probably be annoying. I definitely recommend reading their series! Thank you again for letting me use the idea as the basis for me series.

Misc Credits:

Dark Mark Divider- @firefly-graphics

Diamond Divider- @troublesomesnitch

Header- Me