#this is set well before the fic from a couple days ago

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I Am Flesh and I Am Bone (I've Got Fire in My Soul)

My belated Halloween fic is finally posted! Thank you to the marvelous @arisprite for the beautiful artwork they created for this fic, which you can find here, and all the help with brainstorming! You can read the first couple of scenes below or the whole thing here on AO3!

Rating: T

Words: 12K

Warnings: none

Relationships: Payneland with background Palasaki

Summary: On Halloween, when the veil is thinnest between the living and the dead, ghosts are at their most corporeal—and their most vulnerable. When Charles, Crystal, and Niko go to a masquerade and walk into terrible danger, Edwin has no choice but to leave the safety of their warded office to save them.

Excerpt:

“And this is why I have never cared for parties,” Edwin says as he helps Niko up the stairs to the office. She’s leaning against him heavily, looking almost as tired as she did while recovering from the spell that nearly killed her in Port Townsend. She lost her butterfly mask at some point during the evening.

“Soul sucking witches are why you’ve never cared for parties?” There’s no real bite in Crystal’s voice; she looks almost as exhausted as Niko, with her head lolled against Charles’s shoulder. He’s practically carrying her.

“Among other things.” Edwin shudders. “I will say, it was better than some of the dinner parties my parents forced me to attend.”

“Everyone was unconscious by the time you got there, mate,” Charles says.

“Precisely,” Edwin says. “I, for one, do not think I’ll be attending another one anytime soon.”

“It was pretty aces until the soul sucking started.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Edwin is very much not taking his word for it. “I could have told you, Charles, nothing good ever happens on Halloween.”

***

Five days ago

Charles doesn’t realize how close they are to Halloween until he’s walking Crystal and Niko back to the agency’s office, a step ahead of the girls, when he hears a surprised shriek behind him. He whirls around to find Crystal suspended in mid-air, hanging upside down, the coffee she just bought at the shop down the road staining her pale blue blazer and dripping down her face into her hair.

She glares furiously at Charles, blinking coffee out of her eyes. “What the actual fuck, Charles?”

“Oi, why do you assume I did that?” Charles puts his hands up in surrender as Niko starts dabbing at her girlfriend’s cheek ineffectually with a napkin. “Edwin, I think your protection wards work a little too well, mate!”

Edwin’s head appears through the door. When he sees Crystal’s predicament, he sighs. “One moment, please.” He vanishes back into the office.

“Take your time!” Crystal calls after him. “I’ll just be here, showing my ass to the entire hallway.”

“It’s a nice ass,” Niko says helpfully.

Charles politely averts his eyes from the ass in question, focusing instead of the growing puddle of iced coffee on the ground. “No other offices on this floor, mate, so the only people who can see anything are me and Niko.”

“Charles, you’re not helping.”

There’s a hissing sound in the air, like air being released from a tire, and Charles catches Crystal around the waist right before the wards release her. He lowers her to the ground carefully, flipping her over to set her down on her feet. She smooths down the skirt of her uniform, glowering down at her stained blazer and blouse.

With an apologetic smile, Charles opens the door to show the girls into the office. On the other side of the door, Edwin stands with his hands clasped behind his back, looking only slightly sheepish.

Crystal jabs a finger at him. “You owe me a coffee.”

“You really should consume less caffeine,” he tells her. “It will stunt your growth and you’re already considerably shorter than average.”

That earns him the expected hand gesture, which he seems unfazed by.

“What are the added wards for, mate?” Charles goes to press a kiss to his partner’s cheek. He doesn’t think they’ve made any enemies lately. Their last few cases have been almost painfully routine. He hasn’t had to hit anyone with his cricket bat in months.

“I ran some errands while you were out,” Edwin says, cheeks going a little pink at the PDA, as mild as it was. “When I attempted to return home, instead of mirror-walking back to the office, I ended up in the real estate office downstairs. I gave one of the realtors quite a fright, I’m afraid. I don’t believe she could see me, per se, but she certainly knew she wasn’t alone.”

Charles groans. “Bollocks. What day is it?”

“October 26th.” Niko looks between them. “What does that have to do with the wards?”

“Are you afraid the realtor’s going to call an exorcist?” Crystal asks in a tone that suggests she may help out said exorcist.

Charles shakes his head as he slings an arm around Edwin’s shoulders. “It means it’s almost Halloween. Snuck up on us this year, didn’t it, mate? Suppose we’ve had a bit going on.”

Crystal and Niko both stare at him blankly and he remembers that even though it feels like they’ve been part of the Dead Boy Detectives for ages, it’s been less than a year since Port Townsend. There’s still so much that they don’t know.

“Halloween, or Samhain, is the day where the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest,” Edwin says in what Charles privately thinks of as his posh professor voice. “We often see all manner of ridiculousness on that day. Seances, arcane rituals—”

“Long story short.” Charles squeezes Edwin’s shoulder, because as much as he loves his posh professor voice, Crystal is looking increasingly murderous. “Veil being thin means that things are a bit screwy for ghosts around Halloween. Mirror travel doesn’t work, for one. Most people can see us, for another.”

Edwin nods. “Precisely. On Halloween, ghosts experience the closest thing to corporeality that we’re capable of. It makes us vulnerable to far more things than iron and cat scratches. Hence, the wards. My apologies, Crystal. I forgot to make an exception for you so you could pass through untouched.”

“I notice Niko was able to get through with no problem,” Crystal says.

Edwin clears his throat and straightens his bow tie.

“This is awesome!” Niko claps her hands together, eyes shining. “If people can see you, does that mean you can go out and actually interact with people?”

Charles grins at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s brills, isn’t it? It’s almost like being alive again. We can’t eat or sleep or anything, because we’re still ghosts, but we’re a bit more part of the living world. We can feel it when people touch us. We can even smell a bit, right, Edwin? Which isn’t always so brills. Couple of Halloweens ago, all the sewage pipes in the building got backed up. That was a tough one.”

“So what do you normally do on Halloween?” Niko bounces up and down on her toes, like her body can’t contain so much excitement.

“Depends on the year.” Charles shrugs. “Usually, I find a party or a club, go dancing, meet some new people, find a—”

He breaks off, because he was about to say “find a fit girl to snog,” but he’s not about to say that in front of Edwin. It’s only been a few months since Charles pulled Edwin close at the end of a long, harrowing case and kissed him. They’re still figuring out this new aspect of their relationship, feeling each other out (in more ways than one.) They’re taking things slow, but it’s been pretty aces so far. Charles isn’t about to wreck it by bringing up all the girls he used to snog.

“And I layer the office in wards and settle down for the evening with a good book,” Edwin says.

Crystal and Niko turn to him, aghast. “You get one day of being corporeal a year and you spend it hiding in the office?” Crystal demands. “Of course you do.”

“Corporeality means we can be observed and touched, which means we can be harmed.” Edwin sniffs. “I don’t begrudge Charles his evening of revelry, but I prefer to stay where I know I won’t be hit by a bus. I don’t believe we can die again on Samhain, but I will not risk it.”

Crystal opens her mouth, but Charles catches her eye and shakes his head. He and Edwin had this conversation many times in their first few years of friendship. It took Charles a while to realize that his version of having fun—going out and meeting people, flirting with girls, experiencing new things—wasn’t exactly Edwin’s version of hell, but was the closest thing the mortal plane could provide. He doesn’t get Edwin’s insistence on locking himself away every Halloween, but he’s sure Edwin is just as bewildered by Charles always going out.

But this year, Charles has better plans than going to a party and meeting pretty girls. He’s been waiting for months to find out just how soft and warm Edwin’s mouth really is. Ghosts have their own type of physical sensation, so kissing Edwin is always aces, but on Halloween, it will be the closest they’ll ever get to being two flesh and blood boys snogging on the couch. He might even be able to give Edwin a hickey. Charles can’t wait.

A bloodcurdling shriek from the hallway distracts him from imagining kissing his way down Edwin’s throat.

“Oh no.” Niko’s eyes go wide. “Edwin, did you put the wards back up?”

Edwin huffs. “Of course I did. There’s no such thing as being too careful around Halloween.”

“Edwin Payne!” a Scottish-accented voice bellows. “What on earth is the meaning of this?”

***

Four days ago

“I have an idea!”

Edwin has approximately a fifty perfect success rate with Niko Sasaki’s idea. When it comes to detective work, she has shockingly astute instincts for one so young and so new to the world of the supernatural. She’s also quite good at finding books and cartoons that Edwin would enjoy, even if some of them are downright scandalous. However, the last time she said, “I have an idea!” in that tone of voice, she spent a quarter of an hour trying to convince Edwin to manifest himself a mustache.

With great trepidation, Edwin looks up from his report on their latest case. “Yes, Niko?”

She beams down at him. Crystal stands with her arm around her, smirking, which worries Edwin even more. “We should go to a Halloween party.”

Edwin has been expecting this ever since their discussion about Samhain yesterday. “I would rather return to Hell. Not the Dollhouse, but perhaps Limbo.”

“Let’s not joke about that, yeah?” Charles calls from the other side of the office, where he’s sorting the infinite backpack, a process that would be much quicker if he would ever let Edwin inventory the contents.

“But no, this is a party I think you’ll like,” Niko says. “It’s in a new club that used to be an old factory.”

“Niko, you enjoy horror films,” Edwin says. “You should know better.”

“And it’s a masquerade!”

Edwin blinks, confused at her obvious excitement.

“You know, you wear masks, so no one can tell who each other is,” Niko says. “It’s super romantic. You can be dancing with someone and they could turn out to be your mortal enemy.”

“Do you have a mortal enemy, Niko?” Charles asks, amused.

“Mrs. Schafer, my Lit teacher at Gray Wake,” Niko says. “She said manga was for people who can’t read real books.”

Edwin is going to find this Mrs. Schafer and haunt her until the day she dies. “I like to see my enemies coming, so I would prefer them not to be masked.”

Niko sticks her lower lip out in a pout and turns to Crystal. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

“And see you in a pretty costume? Of course.” Crystal looks over her shoulder at Charles. “You in, Charles?”

Charles puts down what looks like a half-eaten sandwich—why he has a sandwich in his bag, Edwin can only imagine—and turns to them. “I don’t know. Don’t think it’s Edwin’s scene.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go,” Edwin says quickly. He’s been worried about this ever since this… thing between them began this past summer. He and Charles both learned much about themselves in Port Townsend. Edwin learned that he could finally put words to the desires he’d been suppressing his whole existence without burning up in shame, that the way he felt could be right and good. Charles learned how desperately he aches to still be part of the living world, to experience the life that was stolen from him so cruelly. Edwin doesn’t want Charles to give up the one day a year he can interact with the world just because Edwin would rather not.

Edwin still doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing. The physical aspect of it is better than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t know he could feel as good as Charles makes him feel on a regular basis. But Edwin still isn’t sure what it all means and he fears asking, lest he upset the delicate balance between them. He knows that Charles loves him, that he’s the one person in the universe Charles Rowland would walk into Hell for. But he doesn’t know if Charles is in love with him, or if he’s just enjoying the novelty of being intimate with someone whose touch he can actually feel.

All Edwin knows is that he doesn’t want it to end. And if he holds Charles back from a night of fun with Niko and Crystal, he fears it’s only a matter of time before Charles starts resenting Edwin’s wallflower tendencies. After all, tolerating an antisocial best friend is one thing; having a romantic partner that walls himself up in their office rather than face the living world is another. Edwin couldn’t blame Charles for growing tired of that.

“I don’t know, mate.” Charles looks doubtful. “I was thinking we could stay in. Maybe you could read one of Niko’s mangas to me.”

That sounds like the best Halloween that Edwin can imagine, but he’s sure it’s not what Charles really wants. “No, I insist. I don’t expect you to pass up an opportunity to go to a party just because I’d rather not. Besides, some peace and quiet will be a welcome change.” For show, he casts a pointed look at Crystal, even though they all know he’s come to accept the additional members of the Dead Boy Detective Agency, even the Night Nurse.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” Charles says cheerfully, turning back to his backpack. For a moment, Edwin thinks he detects a hint of strain in the cheer, but then Charles starts whistling as he pulls a garden spade out of his bag.

“You should go enjoy your masquerade,” Edwin says, instead of asking Charles to stay. “But if you’re going to dance with your greatest enemy, I do hope you bring your bag of tricks.”

***

You can find the rest on AO3!

[nsfwordwitch]

Kinktober 2023 Day 19

Prompt: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism Pairing: Halsin x nonbinary tiefling Tav x Astarion 986 Words

🔞Adults Only Blog🔞

Astarion sets up the room. The bed, large enough for three at least, is centered on the floor, unobstructed on all sides. He makes sure the sound-dampening spell is in place. Then, he moves a chair to a corner of the room, and he waits.

He's watched them before, of course, on their evening jaunts to the woods. At first, he just wanted to make sure Halsin was treating Weft right. Once they told him they'd known he was there the whole time…well. He was invited to observe or not as he pleased, from then on. But now that he's free, it's very annoying to trek all the way out there just to watch. He suggested they fuck on a bed, for once, like civilized people, and they decided to indulge him.

The door opens, and excitement rises in his stomach.

"Thank you again for the robe," Halsin says as he and Weft enter. "Although, you wear yours better than I wear mine."

"Are you kidding?" Weft says with a laugh, leaning against him and steering him backwards toward the bed. "Big tough Halsin in a nice bolt of silk? That's exactly what I like to see." They push gently on his chest and he sits on the bed.

Neither of them look at Astarion, but for a moment he feels a tiny nudge in his mind from Weft. It's nothing more than an acknowledgement, a tiny lovesick greeting from his dearest. It makes his chest flutter.

Weft puts their leg up on the bed beside Halsin, letting their robe slip down to reveal they're wearing nothing beneath but their underwear. Halsin leans forward, drawing his face up their inner thigh. "You're only half-hard, my love."

"You'd better do something about that, then. Mn–"

Halsin's mouth is on them now, his tongue sneaking around the edge of their underwear. He pulls one of their balls into his mouth, and Weft threads their fingers into his hair. Halsin unties the side and back of Weft's underwear and leaves them dangling off their leg. "That's more like it," he murmurs, palming their erection and kissing their stomach.

Weft pushes Halsin's shoulders and his back lands on the bed. They drop their robe and underwear to the floor, then lean over Halsin to pull his off, too. They brush their breasts over his cock as they move, eliciting a noise from Halsin. Astarion smiles to himself.

"My mouth has more to offer you," Halsin says, and Weft giggles. They crawl over him and settle with their ass over his face. He drags his hands over their cheeks and pulls them down, starts licking their hole. Weft lets out a sigh and relaxes over him, letting their head fall back. They grind into his face, and Astarion notices their tail casually moving toward Halsin's cock. It wraps loosely around the base, not flexible enough for more than a gentle drape. Halsin's cock twitches and Astarion shifts in his seat, captivated by it.

Halsin parts his mouth from Weft. "Would you face the other way?" he asks them.

"Sure," Weft says, and does as he suggests. When Halsin's eyes are briefly visible to Astarion, he sees Halsin looking at him, and his pulse quickens. When Weft settles back down on him, he reaches for their cock and strokes it while he eats them out.

Weft closes their eyes and leans into the pleasure for a moment, their body bending and twitching in pleasure. Then they almost seem to snap out of something and lean forward, reaching between Halsin's legs. They spit onto their fingers and Halsin moans when two of them enter him.

"Shall I fuck you, my love?"

"Yes," Halsin breathes, and Weft climbs off of him. They pat his shoulder and he flips on his front, and turns around on the bed so his ass is to them. Astarion wonders idly if this positioning is also for his sake, but either angle would have been fine: Weft and Halsin's faces, Weft's ass fucking Halsin's; both have their appeal.

Weft enters him and Halsin cries out. They fuck him, languidly, taking their time. Halsin's voice becomes increasingly pained, and he's almost whining when he says "Weft, please."

"Please what?" Weft asks, smooth as silk. Astarion clutches at the front of his shirt.

"Please fuck me harder. Please, deeper. Ah–!"

Weft picks up speed, gradually increasing the pace of their thrusts, rolling their hips to find his walls. Halsin twists his hands in the sheets, moaning his gratitude. His cries get louder, higher pitched, and when he comes, Weft and Astarion both gasp. Weft only needs a few more thrusts before they come, too, leaning down against his back.

"You marvel," they say to Halsin, who reaches behind and pats their ass. Weft pulls out of him and collapses on the bed beside him. They tilt their head to look at Astarion, and he's already making his way to them.

His mouth is on theirs before they can even speak, his tongue digging into them. They chuckle against him and break the kiss. "Liked the show did you?"

"Taunt me later," he snaps, removing his breeches. "I need to fuck you right now."

"Fuck. Yes." They roll around on the bed so their ass is facing him and he wastes no time. When their legs are around him, he finds their hole and presses his cock into it. They both moan, and they rock against each other, Weft's arm over his shoulder. Their eyes meet, and with one hard thrust he finishes inside them.

Weft wraps their arms around him and pulls him onto the bed on top of them, then rolls him onto his side. They kiss again, softly. Astarion looks over his shoulder at Halsin, watching them. 

"Oh fine, well done to you, too." He gives Halsin a quick pat, which makes Halsin laugh.

“Very high praise from you.”

[luviestarz]

park sunghoon fic recs!

✮ Cafeteria Confessions• PSH - @reinahwanggg (everyone thinks you're dating your childhood best friend sunghoon. well, everyone including sunghoon because he confessed to you almost a year ago and you didn't exactly know it was a confession because of how casually he said it.)

✮ NOONA — p. sunghoon smau - @hoonvrs (park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.)

✮ secret soft boy revealed | enhypen sunghoon - @elysianeclipxe (build-a-bear is a cliche and old thing that couple do. only lame people would go there to build a bear when it's obviously easier to just buy one.. so tell me why THE Park Sunghoon just so happens to be there, enjoying the fact that he's building a bear... whipped af)

✮ the 24-hour dating challenge - @jaeyunverse (being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.)

✮ CITRUS IN THE MORNING. - @hannie-dul-set (lovestruck! sunghoon just being Very In Love)

✮ 박성훈 、SPOILED ROTTEN - @boyfhee (sunghoon is drunk and is trying to break into your room through the balcony.)

✮ 성훈  、PARK SUNGHOON ! - @sseastar (THE ONE WITH THINGS THAT BLUR THE LINE BETWEEN FRIENDSHIP AND MORE)

✮ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — BED 박성훈 - @karinasbaby (your fiance, sunghoon insisted on a "mini honeymoon" before your wedding preparations took over your time, so how would your day go now that you're on an island thousands of miles away from home with sunghoon?)

✮ angel - @yenqa (sunghoon can’t seem to figure out if you’re human or an angel.)

✮ come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon - @snghnlvr (you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.)

✮ ceo sunghoon who loves taking care of you because you're his ౨ৎ - @hottestvirgin

✮ sunghoon with a crush on you | smau - @woniecore

✮ scoring a date - @shuichi-sama (if someone had told you that after becoming your high school's volleyball team manager, you would capture the attention of it’s captain, park sunghoon, you wouldn’t have believe them. but as he charm’s his way to your heart, you just might. or in which, sunghoon attempts to woo-you, seem to be working in his favor.)

✮ we can’t be friends — [ 엔하이픈 성훈 ] genre ⋆ smut - @dearjaeyuns

✮ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ | psh. - @pshcomforts (you test sunghoon on his reaction to a girl hitting on him after finding one of those videos on tiktok.)

✮ 𝓜𝐒. & 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐒𝐇 - @jlheon (seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon)

✮ IMPATIENT. - @sainns (he had everything planned out but how's he supposed to wait when it comes to you?)

✮ MY WORLD — p.sunghoon - @ikeuverse (you're back and you owe Sunghoon an explanation for your departure, but it looks like it's going to be a bit tricky to get him to listen to you.)

✮ UNLUCKY GIRL SYNDROME ✦ PSH - @suneng (if it was possible to see the number of people who would fall in love with you over your lifetime, most people would agree to it in a heartbeat, but some might not. you don't get that choice, labelled by a mysterious system as someone destined to receive no love and threatened to fix this 'error' before it's too late. but who will be your saviour, the social pariah sunghoon, or the school's golden boy sim jaeyun?)

✮ park sunghoon — THE PUSSY EATING COMPETITION! - @karinasbaby (in which… jake convinces sunghoon to join a pussy eating competition with a bet !)

[lumibuns-blog]

Simon Riley x reader

Idk what to call this but I made a fic where Simon "Ghost" Riley falls for Johnny's female roomie cuz it's been clanking around in my head for days. Also now I can finally use the time I've spent in the UK having to listen to stupid slang and banter to use💪

Also reader is a girl that's like a main plot point👍Okay enjoy!

"Ya sure this is okay mate?" Kyle asked, slightly apprehensive as he entered the apartment

"'Course it's okay!" Johnny beamed, closing the door behind them "asked 'em 'forehand anyway"

Simon just grunted and started to remove his boots. The boys had a week off from being stationed at base and though most would use this time to go home and visit family, that option wasn't really in the cards for the three.

Kyle's family had gone on vacation, he had grumbled something about "lef' me 'ta holiday in the tropics". And Simon...well his family situation was...something, so Johnny had very graciously offered to host them at his apartment for the week. Just one problem, he had forgotten to let his friends know the roommate he lived with was a girl. Not only that, but he hadn't actually checked to see if you read his last minute message. Not that he had actually had the foresight to ask if you were okay with 2 men you had never met sleeping in your apartment for a week. He texted something along the lines of "omw back" quickly followed by "bringing the boys with"

You had been napping and hadn't seen his text, and you were too groggy as you woke up and shuffled to get dressed to even notice the sounds of footsteps in the front room.

"Just set ya shite by the couch 'fer now" Johnny commented as he walked into the open kitchen

Simon took a moment to scan over the apartment. There were the obvious signs of Johnny's presence scattered all around the room. A couple of empty chip bags, an X-box with the wires of the controller's tangled into one big mess, his army green sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, his preferred brand of cereal stood haphazardly on the counter, even those stupid Crocs he bought a year ago were by the front door. But something felt off, he knew his friend lived with a roommate but there was something strange about the other items in the flat he couldn't put his finger on.

A hairbrush was set on the coffee table, the cups that he caught a glimpse of as Johnny opened the cupboard seemed a little too nice, a small tube of hand lotion was set on the counter, and a pair of shoes that seemed a little too small and a little too clean were (unlike Johnny's) placed on the Ikea shoe rack by the door.

Kyle's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, "thought ya 'ad a roommate soap? Where they at?"

"They're 'ere" Johnny chimed, closing the fridge door with his hip and pouring himself some juice "probably just in 'they room" he took one sip from the glass "hold on lads let me get 'em"

He rounded the corner into the small hallway and disappeared from Simon and Kyle's line of sight. Kyle looked over to the blonde, who had (for once) forgone his usual balaclava in favor of a simple black face mask, Simon just shrugged.

They heard the turning of a doorknob at the end of the hallway, the hinges squeaking as it began to open.

"Aye come out 'ere a sec-"

A high pitched, startled noise could be heard before..."JOHNNY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GET OUT!" your voice rang through the apartment clear as day.

Simon and Kyle's head's whipped around to face each other, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in Simon's head. Johnny's roommate was a chick.

"Sweet Jesus! Sorry lass didnae know ya were 'gon tae changin' in 'ere" Johnny blurted out apologetically.

"YEAH THATS WHY YOU KNOCK FIRST DUMBASS!" you continued to berate him as he stood in the door way with his hand covering eyes.

"Well how the 'ell was I 'sposed know what'chu was doin' in 'ere?" he fought back

"MAYBE BY NOT BARGING IN HERE OUT OF NOWHERE?!" Your voice strained with frustration and embarrassment

There was a brief moment of silence before-

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" A small thud could be heard as one of your shirts collided with the side of his head.

"Okay, okay I'm goin'!" he closed the door "creepin' Jesus..." he sighed

He slowly rounded the corner back into the kitchen, holding your oversized T-shirt in one of his hands. He looked up to see the gobsmacked faces of his two friends

"Wot?"

"Could've at least told us 'yer rooming with a girl" Kyle muttered, looking sheepishly towards the tile floor

"Thought I mentioned that?" Johnny said plainly

"Well, ya didn't" Simon grumbled, pausing a moment before continuing "she certainly seems...spirited"

"Nah 'hat's nothin', you should see 'er when I eat 'er scraps" he smirked "just 'bout killed me last time"

Simon couldn't help but notice the glass Johnny had poured earlier, it seemed to be some sort of fruit juice cocktail, something his friend probably wouldn't have bought for himself...

"Well-" Johnny swung his arm out dramatically as he attempted to fill the silence. Yet in that moment, the bra that, unbeknownst to you, had been tucked within the shirt he was now holding, flew to the floor.

"Shit-" Johnny went to quickly pick it up as his two friends respectfully averted their gaze from your undergarments.

"Wait..." Johnny paused to look up at the both of them "is it weird fer me to go grabbin' at it?" He asked in full honesty

Disappointed looks are what greeted him,

"Mate-"

"Bruv..."

They heard your door open suddenly and all embarrassment was forgotten as your roommate quickly picked up the bra and folded it back into the shirt before setting it on the counter

"Seriously man what were you thinking? Going to have to get a lock if you keep this up. Anyway what were you-" you stopped as you rounded the corner to find not only your roommate, but two other large men in your living area.

"Oh!" You started "Hey..." you trailed off apprehensively

Simon and Kyle both got their first proper look at you. A tight tank top clung to your figure and loose sweatpants hung from your hips, your hair haphazardly tied up with strands poking out in every direction. It then became clear to them at that moment you had not been expecting any company.

Kyle cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself, but his friend beat him to it

"These are the lads 've told ya about" Johnny began with a boyish grin, gesturing widely to his two friends, as if he was showing them off.

"From work?" you questioned

"Yup"

You then looked back to the two men in question and they both instinctively stood up a bit straighter "Ghost and...Gaz? Right?" you asked, pointing from one to the other, tilting you head in a way that was undeniably adorable to all three of them.

"'hat's us" Kyle responded brightly "Soap 'as talked 'bout you but I never caught ya name"

You gave it to them with no hesitation, before turning to Johnny "soap?" You teased, cocking one eyebrow

"It's ma' call sign lass, didnae be makin' fun of it now" he shook his finger in your face

"Yeah sure it is" you brushed him off before your eyes met the cup on the counter, you slowly turned back to him,

"What did I say about drinking my shit?!" You questioned with an accusatory tone.

"Is' just a glass" Johnny whined

You delivered a a harsh slap to his bicep "if you're going to be drinking it tell me so I can buy more, I'm tired of runnin' to the store every other day" you sighed

You moved through the kitchen closer to Simon and Kyle, opening the fridge and scanning its contents before turning to the both of them "I'll be going out, you two want anything?" You asked

They both just looked at you completely speechless and slightly confused.

"What? I assume you are probably going to be staying this week while that idiot" you gestured with your thumb to Johnny "has time off, so ya want anything from the store?" Your intuition had to be applauded.

"No we're jus' fine" Simon finally spoke. His deep voice, though not shocking, still made your hair stand on end.

"Alright then" you clapped your hands and maneuvered yourself through the small space in between the two men, a shiver ran down their spine as your front and back brushed against each of their sides, respectively

"I'm going to the gym then I'll hit the store on the way back" you say over your shoulder, grabbing your shoes "you need anything Mactavish?"

"Get some-"

"-More of the juice and the butterscotch crisps?" You finished his sentence for him and he waved his hand dismissively "you're so predictable" you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips

Simon watched as the Johnny's mouth began to form a smile of his own "I 'ave to do the washing, you got any thing ya need cleaned?" He threw back

"Lights or colors?"

"Lights"

"Then wash that shirt I threw at you"

The wicked smile now fully formed on Johnny's face as his friends watched on in surprise and burning embarrassment.

"What 'bout this 'ere?" Johnny teased, now holding your light blue bra up for everyone to see, pinching one of the straps as if it were contaminated

"What are you-" Simon and Kyle watched the confused expression on your face turn into horror then very quickly into undeniable anger

You stormed back across the flat and snatched you bra from his hand "John Mactavish you disgusting little prick" you growled "I am going to kill you one of these days and let me promise you, it will be slow" you leaned over him and pointed a finger in this face, your hight difference forcing him to bend over backwards slightly.

You threw your bra back in your room and quickly stomped back to the door "I'll be back in a couple hours" you called over your shoulder "do me a favor and kick his shit in while I'm gone eh?" You smiled towards Simon and Kyle before shutting the door behind you.

A moment of silence fell over the three,

"So how long has she been 'aving to put up wit' yer ass?" Simon asked plainly

"Little over a year now...-- oye? Whatchu mean 'put up wit' me' I'm a delight to live with"

"Clearly" Kyle rolled his eyes

"Too bad she's got such an attitude" Johnny sighed "she'd be a bonnie lass if she quit yellin' all the damn time"

"I'm sure you give her plenty of reasons to" Kyle groaned and Simon just nodded in agreement

"Ay haud yer wheesht" Johnny bit back "'member who's puttin' you lads up for a week"

The banter continued but Simon could agree with his friend on at least one point, you were bloody stunning. He just couldn't get the quizzical look you had given him out of his head, nor the way you had said his call sign so plainly. 'What had soap told you 'bout him?' He really couldn't help but wonder, wonder and pray it was the good stuff. Though knowing soap, it probably wasn't. His call sign had sounded so sweet when it came from your lips, he needed to know how it would sound when you called him by his given name. What sort of faces would you make if he poked fun at you like soap did? what if he were to be sweet to you? Did you cook? If so he needed to taste it immediately. What kind of expression would you make when you're all relaxed? How would it feel to take those pouty, pursed lips against his own and-

'Nope nope nope', Simon physically shook the thought from his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. You were his friends roommate and who he would be living with for a week, he had to be respectful.

"You good mate?" Gaz asked

"Fine" he replied flatly

He couldn't really understand why but he wanted you to get home from whatever you were doing immediately, it was like a burning fire had suddenly started inside him and it could only be dowsed by seeing you and having you close to him.

Johnny knew that look in his Lieutenant's eyes, recognizing the faint emotion they betrayed

'Damn smitten bastard' Johnny huffed before showing them where they would be sleeping.

Uhhh I probably will make more for this soon so stick around<3

@yumethefrostypanda for the visual I used🫶

[cursingtoji]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 — 𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭

ᥫ᭡ Suguru never thought he would see the girlfriend he murdered years ago when he decided there was no space in his life for non-sorcerers, yet he never said anything about her lost soul.

cw: ghost! f reader x cult leader!geto, reader can’t speak much, invisible fucking (?), oral, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, body worship, praising, one quick mention of impregnation, slight violence (towards someone else), reader gets jealous of Suda, mentions of buddhist rituals and the antichrist (separate events), poor death jokes. 6.2k words (not sorry). #— cult-tober

ᥫ᭡ inspired by lady k and the sick man — hentai manga (read it at your own risk).

note: thank you everyone who asked about the status of this fic, you encouraged me to finish it <3

Geto knew what he was doing the day he decided to cut everyone out of his life. Some of them, such as Gojo and Shoko, he just cut ties, others, he took their lives.

The people from that despicable village were first, then his own parents, and lastly, his girlfriend.

He would be lying if he said any of these killings made him feel bad, but the one that got closer to hurting him was, of course, yours.

Already numb from the previous deaths, keeping you alive wasn’t really an option.

Though Suguru was gentle, he waited for you to fall asleep while cuddling him after kissing his face and emphasizing how well rested he looked.

“Getting back on your feet, eh?” your words.

He didn’t think he would keep thinking of you, in that moment and the following years he was so focused on his long term goals and new discovered hatred that he managed to push you to the back of his mind.

Now he’s established, he has quite a lot of donors to his cause, a loyal group of sorcerers that share his vision and to top it all, the strongest set of curses that any curse user could only dream of.

Reaching such a satisfying point of his life makes him reflect upon the things he doesn’t have.

When Geto rests his head on the pillow at night he remembers the couples he sees through the day, the teenagers confessing when they can’t even look into each other’s eyes.

Naturally, he thinks of you.

The two of you were different, he took your hand and looked deeply into your eyes, you looked back, for many times after that you tended to look away whenever he said something suggestive or romantic, or even when he stared into your eyes for too long, and Suguru made sure to bring your eyes back to him.

Why couldn’t you have been born a sorcerer? You didn’t even need cursed energy, if you could only see curses that would be enough to him.

Geto sighs, it has been a few months since he started to think of you so frequently.

He’s a man of needs, from time to time he indulges himself into masturbating since sleeping with a human is out of the question and sleeping with a fellow sorcerer would only bring complications into his so-called family.

So, in the mornings, way before any of his duties, he takes the box from under his bed and sprays the perfume you used to use on the pillow beside his. He had an internal fight before buying that perfume, a girl was offering samples outside a store and once the scent reached his nostrils he was invaded by memories he thought he had buried years ago. He bought the bottle nevertheless, shaking his head sadly when the lady asked if she should wrap it as a gift.

The liquid in the bottle hasn’t decreased much, since it lasts quite a long time on his sheets. He sprays once in the pillow, or on his shirt, the one you used to steal from him all the time cause it was your favorite.

His boxers are pushed down, sometimes he fists his cock while looking at the pictures in his box, your pictures, unfortunately he had no spicy pictures, back when you were together nudes weren’t so common, not when you couldn’t password protect a digital camera and flip phones cameras sucked.

He uses the smiling pictures you insisted on taking on your dates, he usually was flipping, or had his tongue out

His favorite is the one you took in a photo booth, the first picture he somehow convinced you to show your tongue with him, the second both of you were laughing, the third you were kissing.

Those three pictures, plus the smell of your perfume is enough for him to remember that kiss vividly.

He teases his tip, thinking about how soft your breasts felt under his hand.

He couldn’t kiss you like that and just leave the photo booth, he had you on his lap, the confined space added to the risk of being caught was so exciting.

Geto spills his load on his stomach, his mind still playing the memory of him kissing your neck, while you caressed his hair urging him to soften down quickly so you could leave the booth and go back to your place. He put his arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple and getting a playful slap on his chest. You didn’t like pda, “people look at us weirdly” you said, but were the first to take his hand or pout when didn’t put his arm around you.

Geto is about to fall back asleep, it started to rain outside, he should be up in an hour but he’s feeling too nostalgic, in a bad way, so the association would have to go through the day without him.

Suguru turns to the side, the rain makes him remember the day you met him at his dorm, for what was supposed to be a date, but the weather changed so you cuddled on his single bed giggling about what would happen if someone knew you, a non-sorcerer, was inside such a exclusive facility like jujutsu tech when you shouldn’t even known it existed. Suguru kissed your face, cheeks, nose and lips, and assured you he would fight anyone that dared to say you were not welcome there.

He promised to keep you safe, in simpler times, when he had a best friend and a future as an ally of the jujutsu world.

Suguru feels a lump on his throat, but he swallows it, allowing his mind to fade away and muscles to relax as he’s back asleep.

Apparently, he needed that few more hours. Suguru is awoken suddenly by a loud, trembling sound. He looks around confused, hating to be woken up instead of waking up naturally, his eyes open slowly expecting the sun, but outside is dark, Geto’s head snaps to his alarm clock wondering how he could have slept till so late, but it says eight in the morning still. What started as a rain turned into a full storm by now.

Suguru jumps from his bed, in order to close the window which had already soaked part of his carpet.

“Shit” he closes the glass window and attempts to turn on the lights, but nothing happens, probably a blackout due to the storm.

His bedroom turns cold, colder than before he closed the window.

A lightning illuminates the sky, and by consequence, his room, he sees a figure on the corner before getting swallowed back in the dark, he rubs his eyes sensing something is off.

The blue cursed energy light takes its shape around his hand, whoever/whatever thought it was a good idea to enter his room is about to regret.

He can see a shape, raising his hand to hit it, concentrating his energy on his fist.

Lightning strikes again.

It illuminates a face. Your face.

Geto’s hand is stopped in the air, his eyebrows leave the frown state and his mouth is hung open.

The electricity returns, his lamp casting a warm light into the bedroom.

He can fully see you now, taking a step back and lowering his hand.

Your face is much paler, hair is longer, like all the years that have passed to him passed to you too. That if you hadn’t seen the sun, or cut your hair, if you were alive all this time or… dead, as it looks, a phantasmagoric version of the girl he used to know.

You have a white dress — or more like a nightgown on —, it’s long and the straps are thin, looks comfortable. He hopes you felt comfortable all this time.

Geto says your name, in a whisper, rubbing his eyes again and wondering if he’s still dreaming.

You brace yourself slowly, as if you’re the one scared in this situation, he watches your mouth parting but closing again.

“Is it really you?” he takes a step closer but you take a step back hitting the wall, “Are you… afraid of me?”

Your eyes widen, they look opaque, shineless. Then you furrow your eyebrows, turn your hands into fists and hit his chest.

“You’re mad, I get it, I deserve it” he lets you punch him groaning angrily, never saying a word, he wonders if you can even speak.

“C’mere” he wraps his arms around you when you start to whimper.

Suguru considers actually being crazy or dreaming, cause you still smell like your old perfume.

“I’m not sure what is happening, I don’t really care, just please don’t go away” he tightens his hold on you believing you could disappear anytime, “You heard me? I was calling your name earlier” he lets go to caress your face, it’s still weird to look at your face when you have this bluish hue instead of the warm cheeks he knew.

You look away, exactly like you did when he said something naughty. So you did hear him when he was touching himself looking at your pictures together. Then he remembers something new, a conversation you had about whether he would find another girlfriend if you died, the type of thing a girl asks in a relationship when she’s bored. That or if their boyfriends would still love them if they were a worm.

Suguru doesn't seem to remember his answer, though he knew you had a tendency to get jealous easily.

“Not sure how much you saw all this time, but just so you know I’ve never been with anyone else” he assures.

Your gaze returns to him surprised, you didn’t know as it seems, he feels like asking questions, how long have you been around? What do you remember?

“You’re cold” he rubs your arms and your strap slides down allowing him to notice your breasts and your nipples marking the fabric, “I’m picking you up, alright?” and he does, wondering if you’re lighter or if he’s got stronger.

Suguru places you on his bed, now a much larger and more comfortable one than the one he had in his jujutsu tech dorm. He lays with you and covers you both with a duvet as you wiggle on his hold trying to find that position you liked to cuddle at.

“You’re so soft” his hand runs on your thigh, “I missed you so much” he squeezes you smelling your hair and kissing your temple all the way down your cheeks — which are way warmer now — until he meets your lips which he starts to peck lightly, though the pent up energy and the way his heart aches for you doesn’t allow him to take this slowly, instead he’s quick to deepen the kiss rolling his tongue with yours and pushing your straps down to fondle with yours breasts.

You whimper and try to move your legs from under him, with no success as he’s drunk on the feeling of having your body under his again.

Such sensitive nipples hardening under his fingers, the taste of you, yours hands pushing his—

He’s pushed off the bed with more strength than he ever thought you would have. You get rid of the duvet and kneels down to where he lays on the floor, he thinks that’s all a play until a very real hand slaps his face, harshly, then you run and disappear through the wall.

Suguru sighs, noticing his boner and resting on the floor.

“…then we’ll be all set, Geto-sama. Geto-sama?” Suda asks, noticing how deep he’s in whatever he’s reading.

“Thank you, Manami” he dismisses her, not taking his eyes off the book.

Geto decided to do some research, to understand how it was possible for you to have appeared to him.

Turns out, in all the books and archives he has of the jujutsu world, there’s only one explanation for why a human would have come back after death.

He cursed you, somehow.

Reversing the curse.

He closes the book when seeing the title of the next chapter, that’s not what he’s interested in.

Geto closes his eyes massaging the bridge of his nose, that day’s duties are already giving him a headache.

A hand manifests out of thin air, touching his cheek. Definitely something worthy of a jump scare, but after an initial surprise, Geto softens his features and puts his hand on top of yours.

The rest of your body manifests slowly, you’re on top of the table he was reading at, your legs dangle on the side, your hair covers part of your face and it’s long enough to reach the table's surface.

“Hello, beautiful” he brushes the hair away from your face, your thumb rubs his cheekbone, the place you hit the day before, it’s not sore or even bruised, the only scar that it left was an emotional one and he senses you’re apologizing for hitting him, though he’s the one that should be begging your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry about last time, I got too excited to see you again and forgot the most important thing” he took both your cold hands and kissed your knuckles, “To apologize, for taking your life” he’s not capable of looking up, not yet, “I’m sorry.”

He thought if he should do that for a long time, since he doesn’t regret the things he’s done to get where he is today, and Geto believed that if you had the chance to go back in time to do things differently and still wouldn’t do it, you couldn’t say you’re sorry for what you did. And he would do it all over again.

He is sorry for you though, he’s sorry for crossing your life and revealing all the things you shouldn’t know in the first place, he’s sorry for depriving you from a normal life, unaware of the existence of curses and sorcerers.

“I’m glad you’re here now” he rests his head on your lap hugging your hips and bringing you closer.

You caress his hair, minding the bun, his hair is also much longer than the last time you saw him, you always said he should grow it out since his hair was so naturally lustrous. He teased you, asking if you were jealous of his gorgeous hair. Now, he snorts, remembering the conversation and untying the half bun so you can run your fingers freely.

Geto, with his head still on your lap notices your feet dangling happily, one on each side of his. He reaches for your right one, brushing his fingers on your sole causing you to squeal, he laughs softly, seemingly you’re not able to speak, only to express yourself through little sounds. His hand wraps around your ankle then rubs the extension of your calves until he reaches your knee, pushing the hem of your dress just enough to expose your thigh for him to start kissing.

“We don’t have to do anything okay? I just want to touch you” he rubs his cheek on the skin of your thigh, like a cat asking for affection.

Your hands leave his hair and his heart beats faster assuming you’re about to leave him, instead you take the hem of your dress and lift it up all the way to your hips, revealing your uncovered pussy to him. The afterlife must be more comfortable without underwear.

Geto grins, accepting what you’re offering him, pushing his chair enough to give him space to dip his head lower and further into your legs.

You being the good dead girl you are, lean back and spread your legs watching with wide eyes the black head of the cult leader getting lost under your dress.

He starts by kissing your folds and rubbing the space between your hips and thighs, taking a mental note of how warm you get when touched by him.

Suguru nuzzles into you, rubbing the tip of his nose on your clit while you squirm. He takes your ankle and helps place your foot on the table to give him more room to eat you out.

What a sin it would be if someone so good at sweet talking others was bad with his tongue.

Thankfully that’s not Suguru.

He quickly drives his attention to your hole, teasing it until he feels your hand gripping his hair, he spreads your flexed leg further and pushes his tongue in, not being able to hold back a moan when he feels you contracting around his muscle.

His nail is digging on your thigh, which he can tell you desperately want to close, still so sensible even after all these years.

Soft breaths echo through the library, Geto feels bad for not being able to hear your beautiful moans, maybe there’s a book about giving back ghosts their voices? Well, the whole thing is a work in progress, but right now he’s too busy to progress that far.

You tug his hair twice, “What’s that, love? Trying to say something?” he keeps his tongue still, pressing it in your bud and shaking his head slightly, he can hear you’re trying to say something over breathy gasps, “You beggin’?” he chuckles on your core, the vibrations make you want more so you raise your other leg, “Who am I to say no to my girl…”

Suguru slides both hands to your lower back, holding you still and kicking his chair back to kneel and be more leveled with your cunt.

He loved to finger you, seeing your face contorting and kissing your tears when you orgasmed on his hand, but he loves more making you cum with his mouth only. Felt so much more intimate, it was the same difference of killing someone with a weapon and with his bare hands. Not an analogy many people can understand, but makes perfect sense to him.

Suguru laps at you like a mad man, sucking and using teeth, every tool he has to give you the orgasm of your lif—

The best orgasm you ever had.

And he knows it’s working due to your shaking thighs and arching spine.

He’s almost without air but when he notices your curving toes he tells himself to endure a bit more.

“Oh it’s coming” and soon he’s rewarded with your throbbing clit on his lips and a clear liquid being sprayed on his chin and chest. Being the tease he is, he laps at your swollen bud a bit more till you have to push him away.

“Sweet” he murmurs, kissing your shaking thigh and admiring your swollen glistening folds. You lay back to recover from the mind blowing orgasm and he sneaks a hand to grab his phone, opening the camera but frowning his eyebrows when nothing but the table getting reflected in his screen. Apparently phone cameras don’t work on ghosts “Too bad, guess I’ll have to remember the sight” he rests his head on your thigh and reaches a finger to caress you like he’s drawing on your skin.

“Geto-sama, we got another check” Suda pushes the door and you sit up quickly, but her eyes are solo on Geto, a questionable look on her face, probably noticing his disheveled hair and his kneeled position on the floor, “Is everything okay?”

Suguru blinks, shifting his eyes to you and her, doubting if his fellow sorcerer really couldn’t see the half naked woman dripping on the table.

Maybe even sorcerers couldn’t see it all.

“Yes, you can give me that” he got up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, taking the envelope and closing the door.

When he turns back you are gone. Geto sighs and bumps his head on the door.

Still managing to deal with everything that has been happening, Geto goes to the scheduled meeting in a bad mood, not having seen you since the library incident the previous day.

He’s the last one to arrive, sitting cross legged on the mat at the head of the table. Suda is on his right, taking notes on the meeting, which is boring Geto to no end.

Suda leans in, whispering a question to Geto and showing the notes while the rest of the people discuss financial matters.

“Did someone open the window? It’s so cold all of the sudden” Suda rubs her arms and Geto raises his head from the hand supporting it.

The room did get chiller.

He looks behind his shoulder and sees you, under a different light, a darker one. Your hair is floating and your face is dark, he can only see your widened eyes, they’re fixed on Suda.

Geto raises an eyebrow and discreetly pats his lap smiling at you.

The dark aura around you fades off a little bit and he can see your beautiful features again while you move your bare feet in his direction and take a seat between his legs facing him. In a natural motion he runs his hand on your hair and kisses your forehead, hoping it actually looked natural and not like he was patting an invisible person.

“Geto-sama, is this correct?” Suda leans in again, pushing her cleavage into Geto’s view and invading his — unknowingly also yours — personal space.

Your head turns almost 360°, the scary things you do only turn Suguru on more. The dark aura is back again.

“Don’t be jealous” he whispers very quietly.

“What was that?” Suda asks leaning in more.

You turn the rest of your body in a ghost-like manner, reaching claw-like hand to Suda’s face.

“Yes, Manami, please pay attention” he takes your hand, guiding it slowly to his pants so you could see how happy he was to see you meanwhile his other hand raises your dress and massages your folds.

You lean back on his chest, he puts his chin on top of your head looking down at your beautiful legs extended under the table.

“Isn’t that right, Geto-sama?” Larue asks and everybody turns their attention to their mentally-checked-out leader. Geto notices you tensing up, like their attention is on you too. Which would be if they could see you.

Afterall, who wouldn’t want to see a gorgeous little thing melting by having her clit played with under her dress?

You two never took things out of the bedroom, so the recent days have been nothing but new experiences.

Swiftly, Geto hooks his finger on the top of your dress bringing it down and exposing your breasts to, in reality, no one but himself, still you squeak and try to cover yourself but Geto is faster, holding both your hands behind you.

“Sounds great” he smiles at the people waiting for an answer about a topic he couldn’t care less about, instead he’s more concerned about moving the two fingers inside your gummy walls.

They get back to discussing it among themselves, Geto pretends to pay attention looking at a fixed spot and missing the way Suda is looking at him.

You don’t miss it though.

That’s how you’re supposed to look at him, you only.

It’s borderline outrageous to see her so heart eyed at your man while he’s finger-deep inside your cunt with his erection poking your lower back.

Jealousy starts to take over you again, Suguru is still holding your arms, so you use your leg to swing a move on the water jar on top of the table, shattering it and spilling the water all over Suda.

Everyone gasps, raising from the table and removing their paper to avoid getting wet too.

“What was that?!” she yells.

“Seems like we have a naughty ghost around” Geto jokes, pinching your clit, “Or it’s a sign from heavens to end this meeting, Suda please try to save these notes” he motions to her soaked notepad, “Close the door on your way out, I’ll clean this.”

“But Geto-sama—“ he knew someone would protest it.

“We’ll continue tomorrow” he said firmly, everyone bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

“Tsk tsk, that was unnecessary” he lets go of your arms, you turn around, kissing your man and pushing his chest until he’s laying on the floor with you on top.

Geto puts his arm around you, keeping you close while playing with your tongues, he’s strong enough to hold you tight, not letting you get away from him.

Your hands go to his complicated clothing, trying to undo the knots of it and free him for you to touch.

“Here, I got this” he undoes everything that needs to be undone with one hand while still holding you, you finish pushing his clothing out of his body until every fabric that once wrapped him is thrown all over the floors of the small room.

Finally, you could see him.

Geto kisses your ear and sucks your lobe while you run your hand over his torso, a faded memory coming to your head when you touch the x shaped scar on his chest. It’s much lighter now, you remember it being a shade of purple and red, holding back your tears at the time for seeing your lover hurt like that. He ensured it was nothing, he barely felt it due to the adrenaline.

At the time you wished you were there to take care of him, to patch and clean him, now you realize you wouldn’t be able to survive if you saw him bleeding and unconscious.

Maybe it all happened for the best.

You touch his abdomen, following the happy trail down to his shaft.

Geto is so strong now, he’s big enough for you to feel small even being on top of him, his thighs support you and his strong arm ensures you stay close.

You take his dick in your hand, kissing his neck and pumping him slowly. Suguru throws his head back, moving his hand to hold your ass as you work him up. Not that he needed much, from the moment he saw you crazy jealous over Suda he was hard already. No, actually, scratch that, from the moment he saw you, he was hard already. His heart beat faster, pumping the blood that went straight to his dick.

“Alright, baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pushes your dress up, getting you completely bare like him and moving your hips until your cunt hovers above his throbbing cock. You sink on him biting your lips, a habit from when you actually had a voice to moan and thought you should keep quiet.

Geto though, moans for the two of you, not caring if anyone hears him ‘cause he’s the boss, what would they do?

The feeling of your pussy around his cock is all he can think now, if you asked him to release all his curses right now he would.

God, he missed this. No toy would ever come close to the real thing.

Geto can’t help but admire your long hair, it is like a waterfall, running through your body and pooling on his torso. He takes a strand and plays with it around his finger.

“You’re still so tight, move your pretty ass for me, yes?” you nod, adjusting your posture and setting a rhythm, “That’s it, good girl” he holds your breast, rubbing a thumb on your perky nipple and raising enough to take the other one on his mouth.

Whatever important things he had that day, it’s all canceled now. His new plan is to stay buried in your pussy and sucking your tits all day long.

“You’re doing so well, baby, but I’ll take charge now, ‘kay?” he reaches behind you to brush away the glass remains and places you on top of the table carefully, “You’re so cute” he bends to kiss you, your hands caress his back muscles, thighs holding him inside you.

You don’t let him go away, not even for an inch, not even when you need air… do you really need it though? What would happen if you didn’t breathe? Die? Hah.

“So needy” he laughs softly and pecks your lips actually needing air, now he’s the one with long hair falling on your face, you brush it back and nibble on his chin, clenching around him as he hits that delicious spot.

Suguru is so pretty. Back then he had a boyish look and young charm, now he’s a man, his jawline is stronger and he lost some fat he had on his cheeks, too bad because you loved to kiss his soft cheeks. His arms are way bigger now too, when he readjusts himself to fuck you on a better angle you get a view that no sculpture in the world would ever compare. Light shines behind Suguru, his chest glistens with sweat, some strands of his hair sticking to his perfect skin, the sight of his v line alone makes your clit throb.

Geto stretches you so well and perfectly, “So good, baby.”

He's an angel, you’re convinced. Makes sense now, this is your heaven, being beside him forever, getting him to touch you in front of other people without feeling shame, haunting women that look at him with lust in their eyes.

“Nnnhg Sugu—“ you slap your mouth shocked by the actual words that came out.

“Fuck” he grabs your face kissing you hard, “Say that again” he asks thought a breathy almost desperate tone.

“Su—guru, Suguru” you moan, barely using a real voice.

“Fuck, I’m close. Can I come inside, baby? Huh?” he presses your belly down, “Maybe we should test whether you can get pregnant, that would be a miracle right? Or maybe we would have the antichrist” he smirks in a teasing way and you lightly slap his chest, not liking the idea of bearing the evil, although if he keeps thrusting like that you might change your mind.

Your legs tighten around his small waist, pulling him closer, “Squeezing me so well, I— haa“ he shuts his eyes, “‘Wanna cum with you, love” he lowers his hand to where you meet rubbing your clit with his thumb, you raise your hands to his shoulder pulling him to you until your sweaty foreheads touch.

Geto can see through your rolling eyes you’re close so he speeds up his thumb while thrusting sloppier.

“Still feels like our first time, you know?” he confesses, in love with the way you feel, not just your insides but also, your smell, your warmth, your sounds. All his sense are focused on you.

Your knot finally unties, nails sinking on his shoulder and heels pressing on his back, your mouth is hanging open while Suguru nuzzles on your cheek, “I’m losing my mind” your hips roll trying to meet his thrusts, he cums hard too, moaning majestically and filling you so much you know you won’t be able to hold it all.

“Oh baby” he runs a hand on your face, kissing you lovely. You kiss him back, putting in the gesture every word you cannot say.

Suguru was still trying to manage his duties as a leader and as a boyfriend, at least that’s what he thinks he is since you don’t exactly have the privilege to see other people and he doesn’t even want other people.

The thing is, unlike a normal (alive) girlfriend, you can’t go with him anywhere. To be more specific, apparently you can’t even leave the premises of the temple, the furthest you can go is sitting at the engawa and dangle your feet off the edge. Suguru promised to find whatever was keeping you there and figure a way to have you around him wherever he is.

Now, he’s in Hokkaido, after holding you cold dead hands and promising he would be back soon. In the meantime you explored every inch of the floor where Suguru slept, trying to find some item that was tying you there, with no success. So you begin to wander into other areas of the temple, with Suguru gone there isn't that many people around either, and even though no one can see you, it still felt weird being around other people, especially when someone walked through you.

When you enter the praying room you notice someone there, sitting on their knees in front of a buddha statue.

Curiosity takes the best of you and you approach the man, wanting to hear what he's praying for, you bend your torso beside him, having your long hair touch the floor, you suppose it would be a scary sight, but you doubt anyone except Geto can see you at this point.

You adjust your posture, but being clumsy doesn't go away with your physical body, so you stumble and end up hitting a gong.

And of course, it doesn't go through you as it's supposed to. Whoever is in charge of deciding the moments you can touch the physical realm is a sadist.

The man who was praying is now standing up shaking like crazy, he’s asking who’s there but you cover your mouth (as if you could speak anyways). A second man enters the room, due to his traditional clothing you judge he’s an authority figure in the temple, but not being a buddhist during your lifetime you can’t be certain.

The first man is explaining what happened while you try to tiptoe your way out of this embarrassing situation (for you and scary for the man that will probably not sleep tonight).

Before you leave you can hear the second man saying this sorta thing has been happening around the temple, people are reporting a sudden cold air, things being moved out of the place and crying sounds during the night.

All your fault of course and half Geto’s fault on the last statement.

Not sad cries by the way but you can see why people would think that.

In fact, Suguru was very determined to have you voicing your pleasure, you still can’t talk, but he learned that through a very strong emotion your voice cords become stronger or at least existent for a brief moment. He’s still testing that and writing his experiments in a notebook.

Suguru says he wants to bring you back at some point but for now he can only do those kinds of experiments, you are happy to be beside him no matter what so you naturally accepts being his guinea pig, the initial resentment you had when you first saw him that day is long gone now. Is not like you have enough energy to think about your death anyways, at some point during the day you become extremely sleepy and eventually disappear, so you have to make the best out of your time with Geto.

Being back in his room you find your way under his blankets, the previous interaction seemed to have drained your energy, you should tell Geto about that so he can write it down in his notebook.

Finally.

Geto opens the car door before the vehicle fully stops at the entrance of the temple, it was only 2 days but he felt like weeks passed by.

And it wasn’t just a homesick feeling, he barely had a home. He just missed you. For years he was by himself, being satisfied with a few pictures and a perfume bottle, yet now he has the real thing — you —, one day without you hits harder than the almost ten years that went by.

It’s punishment, he knows it, the guilt must be felt, he didn’t feel it for ten years so he’s gotta feel it all in two days.

If only you could have a phone in the afterlife to facetime him…

None of that is important now, because he’s back and on his way to find you.

What he finds instead is concerning.

A familiar man with traditional clothes holds a cord and repeats a buddhist chant. The floor he lives in smells weird, in the corner of the room you have your hands around your ears, sitting on your knees and glitching like a scene playing in an old tv during a storm.

“S-Stop” he hears from you, in a strangled hoarse voice.

Suguru’s heart stops for a second, considering for the first time the chance of you being taken away from him. Again.

No, that won’t happen. That exorcism will not continue.

His heart is back, beating at its fastest now, he summons a curse, one too strong for a simple monkey, he blames his emotions for that but he smiles when he sees the half body dropping on the floor.

Your eyes are closed, hands still covering your ears, when you open them — after realizing the awful pain in your heart and head is gone — Suguru is standing in front of you, kneeling and smiling kindly.

He takes your head, running his thumb on your cheek before kissing you, trying to engrave the shape of your lips on his.

“Keep your eyes close for me, beautiful” you obey, keeping them shut when Suguru manhandles you into his hold and gets up, bringing you to his bedroom and away from the dead body, afraid of the bad memories it may bring you.

“There you go, i’m sorry about that” he kisses your forehead sitting down at his chair with you, “Guess it’s too dangerous to leave you alone, huh?”

You snuggle on his embrace, happy to finally have him back to warm you.

Through a whisper — since that’s the loudest sound that can possibly leave your lips — you confess “I missed you” Suguru pulls you away to look at your face, you can see he’s surprised you managed to speak, he also notices the glassy look in your eyes.

“I love you” your eyes widen, it’s the first time since your death he says it.

Since your death?

“I can’t say I'm sorry” he kissed your cheek and closed your still opened eyes “but I can say I love you, i’ll always love you.”

The memory makes your eyes water.

Well, maybe it’s not the first time since your death, but the first in your afterlife.

“I’ll do whatever it takes for us to stay together.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sad-darksoul @grsveeth0m @getomybeloved @sakurasimppp

note: my inbox is open for theories about this au, you can also check the #ghost!reader tag. also keep giving me ideas and i’ll keep writing 🤭

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 14: The Aftermath

Summary: Your heat is over, now all that's left to do is heal.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count: 5100 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, fluff, angst, nightmares, PTSD

A/N: Surprise!! Got this one done super early because I kind of just want to move forward with this fic and get to more exciting things so enjoy this bonus chapter. This weekend's update might come a day late, we'll see. Not entirely happy with this one, but it's really just setting up the next part so...yeah. Enjoy!!

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif found on Google)

A rumbling purr vibrates in your chest. It’s a purr of contentment, of satisfaction. You’re warm, not like you had been nine days ago when your heat started, though. This is a comfortable warmth, a cozy warmth. You’re under blankets in your nest, pressed against a bare chest. You trail your fingers along smooth skin until you hit a familiar scar slicing through the skin, right below his clavicle. 

“Got that one outside a bar in Manchester.” 

You pause in your movements, tilting your head to look up at John. He’s staring down at you, his own fingers starting to trace a pattern on your back. 

“Was years ago. Some bloke was getting rowdy inside. Pulled him out to try and talk him down, and he pulled a knife on me.” 

“I can imagine what you did in response.” You murmur, laying your head back on his chest. 

John huffs out a laugh. “Left him with a couple missing teeth, and quite the dent in his head.” He smooths a hand over your side. “You feeling alright?” 

You hum in response. Your eyes feel dry and puffy from crying, and you’re terribly thirsty. You’re beginning to feel the ache in your body again, the steady pulse of pain between your legs starting up. “Hurting again.” You murmur, smacking your lips. “Kinda feels like I swallowed sand too.” 

“Almost time for another muscle relaxer.” He says, glancing at his phone before grabbing an electrolyte bottle from the nightstand. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking as you go. You let out a quiet whimper at the ache in your body, eyes filling up with tears again. 

“Easy.” John tries to soothe you, brushing the hair from your face. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry.” You sniffle, taking the electrolyte bottle. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“It’s not. It’s just a natural part of coming down from a heat.” John says as you gulp down the contents of the bottle. 

“My mom cried after her heats.” You say, putting the cap back on the electrolyte bottle. “I heard her once, when I was like seven or eight. My dad had picked us up from the care center on base. I wanted to see my mom, but their bedroom door was closed. I could hear her inside, crying alone. My dad scolded me, sent me back down the hall when he saw me. It never felt right to me, that she was in there alone like that, but maybe things are different when you have pups.” 

“I don’t think it was right.” John says as you lay back down against his side. He’s tense, limbs stiff even as his arm wraps around your back. 

“There were a lot of things my dad did that I questioned.” You say absentmindedly, tracing circles on John’s stomach to try and calm him. “Maybe it was just that inner part of me that knew I’d be an omega that made me notice it more. My brothers never said anything, but then again, they all presented as alphas.” You shift against John’s side, tucking your head so he can’t see your face. “Maybe I was just unlucky.” 

He grunts, squeezing your shoulder gently. “You can’t control what nature decides.” 

“Can’t control a lot of things.” You say quietly as he tightens his hold around you. “Suppose I am lucky in one regard.” 

“What’s that?” He asks. 

You shift yourself so you’re facing him, tears sliding down your cheeks again. “You’re a really good alpha.” 

He pulls you against his chest again, pressing your face into his neck. “I don’t know if I’d call myself that.” He says, gently stroking your hair. “Just treating you the way you deserve to be treated.” 

“You treat me like I’m a human being.” You sniffle, wetting his skin as you cry. “That’s better than I’ve been treated since I presented.” 

You don’t see the way his brow furrows, the frown tugging at his lips at your words. You do feel the way he tenses for a moment, arms clenching around you before he relaxes again, a quiet purr rumbling through his chest as he soothes you. 

“I haven’t left your side since your heat started.” He says, taking your hand in his. 

“Really?” You ask, brows pinching a bit at his confession. 

He hums. “Except to use the bathroom.” 

“You must be sick of me by now.” You say. 

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my sweet little omega. Could never get sick of you.” 

You let out a soft purring noise, the sound slipping through your lips before you even realize it. Your eyes widen and you push yourself up out of Price’s neck in surprise. “I’ve never made that noise before.” 

Price smiles softly at you, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Just means you’re happy.” 

“Hmm.” You lay yourself back down against his chest, resting your ear over his heart. You suppose you are happy. 

Or, at the very least, content.

Standing hurts. 

Your legs feel a bit like jelly and your muscles ache deeply. It’s been almost five days since your heat ended, and yet you still feel like you just ran a marathon with no training beforehand. You know part of it is that you’ve been laid up for almost a week, but after that kind of physical exertion, you needed rest. You had only gotten up to stumble to the bathroom a handful of times, leaning heavily on John to avoid straining your muscles anymore than they already were. 

You should get up and start moving now, though. It will help with the stiffness, you know, and you should get the blood flowing at least a little. 

You’re also starting to go a bit stir crazy cooped up in your room all the time. You can only rearrange your nest so many ways, and you’ve even started to kick John out of the nest, opting to cuddle with your giant bear instead. 

You've showered, finally feeling properly clean for the first time in almost two weeks. You dress yourself, opting for the loosest clothes you own, and forgoing underwear. You’re not sure you can handle anything too tight on your skin yet. 

“Ready?” John asks, standing near the door. 

You nod, putting on your slippers as he opens the door. Arms wrap around you as soon as you step out into the hallway, your feet leaving the floor. 

“She lives!” Johnny exclaims, spinning you around. 

You grunt at the impact of the excited Scotsman, but wrap your arms around him anyway, taking in his citrusy scent. You have missed him, not realizing how boring life would be without him until now. You’ve even missed Ghost a bit, his looming presence making the world seem a little less big. 

“Easy, Johnny.” Ghost scolds the overjoyed beta. “She’s still breakable.” 

“Sorry, kitten.” Johnny says, immediately setting you back on your feet and loosening his grip around you. “Missed ye, is all.” 

“I missed you too.” You smile up at him. 

“Thought ye might never be comin’ out of that room.” He says. “Thought I might have tae go in and save ye.” 

You smirk. “You almost had to. Was starting to feel a bit stir crazy in there.” 

He grins playfully at you. “Well, yer more than welcome to spend the night elsewhere if yer sick of bein’ cooped up.”

“She's definitely not going to be doing any of that for a while.” John says, stepping up behind you. “R&R is the only thing on her schedule right now.” 

Johnny pouts. “But what if I just want tae cuddle?”

“Since when do you ‘just cuddle’?” Ghost asks. 

“I can just cuddle.” Johnny pulls you against his chest again, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I'll do it for our ‘mega. I’ll prove it right now.” Johnny pulls away from you, steering you towards the rec room. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” Ghost says to Price, giving him a look before turning on his heel, following you and Johnny to the rec room. 

Johnny flops down on the couch, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You lean against his chest, breathing in his scent again. It’s refreshing, after being stuck in a room with the same scents. You could never grow tired of Price’s scent, but when it’s all you’ve been able to smell for an extended period, you start to get tired of it. You remember nearly tackling Kyle in an attempt to get a whiff of his scent, but the sting of scent blockers had nearly brought you to tears again. 

You let out a quiet sound as Johnny tilts his head, letting you breathe in his scent directly from the source. You start to purr quietly, nose pressed against his throat. An answering rumble begins in his own chest, his arms tightening even more around you. 

“Smell good.” You murmur, your lips brushing his skin. Goosebumps erupt across his neck, a shudder trailing down his spine. 

“Easy, mutt.” Ghost grumbles from the chair beside the couch, his eyes on you and Johnny. 

“Cannae help it.” Johnny almost whines, trying to ease you away from his neck. He grips your chin as your head lolls, a drowsy smile forming on your face as you blink up at him. “Christ, yer gettin’ scent drunk.” 

“Missed you.” You murmur, your brain quieting to a soft buzz as you lean your head on his shoulder, listening to the quiet rumble in his chest. 

“Missed you too.” He says, his hand dropping from your face. His fingers ghost over the mark on your shoulder, making you twitch in his arms. “Cannae believe yer officially part of the pack. Seems like just yesterday ye were arriving, all shy and timid. Now look at ye. Purring away on my lap with Price’s mark on yer shoulder.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, a reminder of just how quickly things have changed. It’s only been almost seven weeks since you arrived in their lives. How quickly things have happened, how quickly things have changed. Though, you suppose things could have happened faster. You’re lucky they gave you so much time to adjust. Many alphas would have started the process as soon as you were in their sights. 

They’re not like that, though. They’ve turned your beliefs on their head and changed your perspective entirely. Alphas can be good and caring and don’t just always take what they want. 

You sniffle as tears pool in your eyes again, Johnny looking away from the TV to stare at you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, sounding worried. 

“Nothing.” You say, pressing your face against his shoulder. “I’m just crying cause I’m happy.” 

“I know, this is probably the last thing you want to be doing right now.” Dr. Keller says from the end of the exam table. “But, unfortunately, it is necessary.” 

You’re silently glad for the numbing spray, the pressure still enough to make you wince, but you can’t even imagine the kind of pain you’d be in if you weren’t numb. You wonder how many omegas have to go through this without it, how many are subjected to the horror without any sort of pain relief. 

“And we’re done.” She says, pulling away. “Everything looks good, no tearing or other injuries.” She pulls her gloves off, John helping you lower your legs from the stirrups. “Though, I’d suggest abstaining from any rigorous physical activity for at least another week.” 

Your face warms at the implication of her words. You’re not sure you’d want to anyway, at least not for a while. Aside from the soreness, after six days of near non-stop...activity, you might shrivel up and die if you see a naked man again anytime soon. 

“Do you feel up to chatting today, or would you rather go back to bed?” Dr. Keller asks as John helps you sit up. “Won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to.” 

You think about it for a moment, chewing on your lip before you answer. “We can talk.” 

She nods, smiling. “Aright. Take your time, I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.” 

She leaves the room, leaving you and John alone. You move slowly as you get dressed, still a bit sore and stiff. John walks you to the door, wrapping his arms around you before you can enter, pulling you against his chest. 

“Call me, if you need anything.” He says. 

You nod, staring up at him before you lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He purrs quietly when your lips touch his, his arms tightening around you for a moment before you pull back, staring up into his eyes for a moment before you turn away, heading into Dr. Keller’s office. 

You take your usual seat, silently grateful for how comfortable the chair is as you sit down. You’ve been avoiding sitting as much as possible, having spent the last few days lounging in bed with John and occasionally Gaz. 

“Comfortable?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. Think this is the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat in.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “You tell me if you get uncomfortable or if you want to end early, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yeah.” 

She nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “So, how are you feeling, aside from the discomfort? Your first heat with your pack, being claimed, that’s a lot all at once.” 

“It is a lot.” You acknowledge, picking at your sweatpants. “I’m still...I don’t know, processing it, I guess? It’s...a big step, but it was always going to happen. That’s why I’m here, right? To be their omega, to be part of their pack.” 

“That is true.” Dr. Keller agrees. “As much as I could say about it, you are right. This was the end goal of this entire experiment. But, how do you feel about it? Are you relieved that it’s over?” 

“Yeah.” You answer. “I’m glad that it’s over, that it’s done with. I...guess I feel lucky too.” You chew on your lip nervously. 

“In what way?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“John’s a...good alpha. I think I knew that before, but...he took care of me. He didn’t hurt me, he’s never forced me into anything.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They’re all good pack members. Even Ghost.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “I’m glad you feel that way. John is a fantastic alpha. He cares a lot about you and your wellbeing.” 

“He treats me like I’m more than just my status. I feel like...like I’m a person again. Not just something that can serve others. I used to think that's just what omegas were supposed to do. At the institute, that's what we were taught. How to serve. But, I can see now how we do so much more than that.”

Dr. Keller practically beams at you. “That’s great! That’s so great that you’re beginning to discover your place in their pack. I think it will get easier, now that you’re official.” She nods towards your shoulder where your claiming mark now sits. 

You fight the urge to reach up and touch it, curling your fingers around the fabric of your sweatpants instead. It doesn't hurt anymore, other than slight soreness if you lay on that shoulder after a while. The scabs are beginning to come off, revealing the scar that will decorate your skin for the rest of your life, showing proof of your place in Price’s pack as his omega. 

“Do you feel different, being a claimed omega now?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You do feel different. Not just because you're a claimed omega now. There's something else, a sort of connection now that you've never experienced, even with your family. You don't know how to describe it, except for a slight buzzing in the back of your brain that only seems to quiet when you're near John. You don't really notice it until you think about it, and then you can't get it quiet until you're near John again. 

“Yeah.” You finally answer, trying to ignore the buzzing feeling in your brain. 

“The bond,” Dr. Keller says with a grin. “Hard to describe, so I've heard. I've also heard it lessens in intensity with time. Has anything else changed? Any feelings?” 

You shrug. “I guess I feel...better about being here. It’s still not ideal but...I feel happier.” 

“Yeah? Good.” Dr. Keller writes something down. “That makes me glad to hear. You’re getting along with everyone?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve been getting closer to Kyle and Johnny. I know they’ll want to progress our relationships after I’ve healed a bit.” 

“Is that something you want?” 

You nod. It is something you want. Kyle has already seen you in your most vulnerable state, and you know Johnny has been anxiously awaiting his time. You’d even consider getting closer to Ghost, though, that would be entirely up to him and what he wants. You know getting closer to Johnny will inevitably force you and Ghost closer, but you won’t push the alpha’s boundaries. 

That will only end poorly for everyone. 

John is awake instantly as soon as the knock comes at the door. He calls for them to enter, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stares blearily at the computer screen in front of him. Simon’s giant form approaches the desk, sinking into the chair across from him. 

“Getting caught up?” Simon asks, looking him over. 

John nods. “Slow progress. Hard being out of commission for six days.” 

“Well, you didn’t miss much excitement. Laswell called a couple times. Kyle talked to her.” 

“That’s what he said.” John leans back in his chair. “Checking up on our girl.” 

“Sent over some things that might interest you as well.” 

“I see that.” John says, glancing at the email in his inbox. One of several hundred unread emails. 

“You look tired.” 

“Think I’m getting old, Simon.” John says, running a hand over his face. “I don't remember things being this rough, coming out of it.” 

“I’ve heard purebreds are different.” 

John gives him a look. “Thank you for holding down the fort.”

Simon shrugs. “Things are going to get difficult now.”

“We have a job to do, above everything else. That was something we knew from the start.” John says. 

“Things were different then.” Simon says. “It's going to be a struggle.”

“We knew that too.” 

“I'm not talking about the omega.” Simon's voice lowers, taking on the low rumble of Ghost. “I'm talking about you.”

John's back stiffens as he stares at his Lieutenant. “This doesn't change anything.”

“It changes everything.” Simon stands from his seat. “Just how much, we won't know until we're in it.” He turns, making his way towards the door. 

“You think you're immune?” John says, making him pause by the door. 

“No. But I've been keeping my distance for a reason.” He turns the handle on the door, turning to look back at John. “One of us has to have a clear head.”

John watches as the door closes, something tickling in the back of his mind. He sighs as he sinks back in his seat, eyes moving to the computer screen and his hundreds of unread emails. 

He closes the browser, shutting down the computer, staring at the screen until the hum of harddrive quiets. His skin is prickling now, thinking back on Simon's words. Of course things have changed. It would be no different had they added a fifth person to the team. He knows leaving will be hard, but they have a job, a duty to perform. That always comes first above all. 

Can he make it come first after this? 

He remembers how different things had felt after he claimed Kyle. His decisions became safer, but his actions became riskier to ensure Kyle's safety. It wasn't that he doubted Kyle's abilities. He knows Kyle is more than capable of taking care of himself. That's why he's on the team. It was his instincts needing to protect his pack, to ensure his beta's safety. 

What is he going to do now that there's an omega involved? 

You won't be going with them, you won't be in the field, but they'll have to leave you behind. It could be weeks before they'd see you again, if they see you again. 

The thought has a sick feeling churning in his stomach. 

Maybe Simon is right. 

Maybe things have changed too much. 

John rises from his seat, his joints cracking. He stretches, groaning quietly at the ache still present in his muscles. It's faded for the most part, but he can still feel it if he's immobile for too long. It's not the worst pain he's ever felt, but it's hard to think of a time he's felt worse. 

Maybe he is getting too old for this. 

He pauses outside Kyle's door, staring down at the knob. He feels bad for what Kyle had to go through the last almost two weeks. He knows it's a natural part of pack life, a natural role for betas, but he still feels guilty. 

“Everything alright?” Kyle's voice breaks through his thoughts. The door is open now. Kyle standing there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. 

He hadn't even noticed the door open. 

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “It's nothing. I don't want to bother you.”

“You're not bothering me.” Kyle gives him a worried look. “Just got out of the shower. You can come in, if you want.”

His feet are moving before he even thinks about it, Kyle closing the door behind him. He sinks down into Kyle's desk chair with a heavy sigh. 

“What's on your mind?” Kyle asks, grabbing the jar of coconut oil off his dresser. 

“Too much.” John answers, looking up at him as he approaches. “Everything's going to change now.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle says, setting the jar on his desk before scooping some out. “Things change all the time. We learn and adapt to them. That's what we do.” 

John watches him rub the oil on his face and neck, watching the movements of his hands. He's right. Always the voice of reason and logic. They were trained to adapt to anything. It was their job. They had adapted to your presence easily enough, they could adapt to this new development too. 

It would take time, but they could do it. 

“You're right.” He says, staring at Kyle's glistening skin. He wants to be the one to rub the oil onto his perfect skin, feel the softness of it under his hands. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. You've been a great help through this.” He stops Kyle from grabbing more coconut oil, grabbing some himself. “I owe you a lot for neglecting you these last couple weeks.”

“You weren't neglecting me.” Kyle says, giving him a small smile as John starts rubbing the oil over his shoulders. “You were taking care of our omega.” 

A satisfied growl rumbles through John’s chest at his choice of words. “Now let me take care of you.” 

Kyle’s breath stutters as John moves behind him, rubbing oil onto his back before moving to his chest. His fingers brush over Kyle’s nipples teasingly, pulling a quiet groan from the younger beta’s lips. John leans against his back, slipping his hands down lower, feeling the ridges of his muscles pulled taught from John’s touch. His lips press a soft kiss to the claiming mark on Kyle’s neck, Kyle’s head falling back against John’s shoulder. John growls in approval at the submissive position, his fingers trailing the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants. 

John gathers more coconut oil on his hand before he slips them under Kyle’s pants, spreading the soft oil across his skin. He’d chosen to forgo briefs under his sweatpants, Price’s hand brushing against Kyle’s half hard cock. 

“Fuck...” Kyle breathes, arching into John’s touch. 

“How many times did you jerk off to the sound of us this last week?” John asks, wrapping his hand around Kyle’s cock. 

“At first I didn’t,” Kyle says, pressing his hips into John’s hand. “Was too focused on making sure nothing went wrong. But then...” He lets out a moan as John begins jerking his cock. “Then I couldn’t take it anymore. The mental image of you two together, the sounds she was making...” Kyle lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as John brushes his thumb over the head of his cock. 

“Wanted to be in there with us, huh?” John asks, hooking his thumbs over the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants, tugging them down so they drop around his ankles. “Did you imagine yourself right in the middle, taking my cock while she takes yours? Or did you imagine yourself taking my cock while our sweet omega sits on your face?” 

Kyle lets out a moan, his arms reaching back to grip John’s hips as his legs shake with pleasure. John continues to stroke his cock, pressing a gentle kiss to Kyle’s shoulder. 

“We can make that a reality.” John says, squeezing Kyle’s cock, earning a sweet moan in response. “I’ll show you all the places to touch that get her riled up. I’ll show you just how she likes it, how to get her legs shaking around your head.” 

Kyle’s nails bite into his skin, but he doesn’t care as he continues to jerk his cock, getting him closer and closer to the edge. Price drags his thumb over the tip, spreading precum on his skin. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Price growls in his ear, pumping his cock faster. “Want to know what she feels like wrapped around your cock?” His teeth nip at Kyle’s ear, his beta’s lips parted as he moans loudly. “Want to know what she tastes like?” 

“Fuck...yes!” Kyle almost whines, hips jerking as he cums, spurting all over John’s hand. “Yes, yes, yes!” 

John works him through his orgasm, continuing to lazily jerk his cock as Kyle twitches in his hold. He presses his nose against Kyle’s throat, inhaling the intoxicating mix of sweat, coconut oil, and his natural briney scent. He presses a soft kiss against his mark, finally stopping his movements to allow Kyle to recover. 

“Good boy.” He praises his beta, wrapping an arm around him to help him to his bed. 

“You really mean it?” Kyle asks as he drops onto the mattress, catching his breath. 

“We’ll have to ask her, of course.” John grabs Kyle’s sweatpants, cleaning off his hand before tossing them in the hamper. He moves back to Kyle’s bed, joining his beta. “But if she’s up for it, then so am I.” 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words registering through the haze. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You wake falling from bed. You hit the floor with a thud, gasping for breath. You slap your hands over your mouth before the sob can tear from your lips, not wanting to wake the others. You’re shaking, your heart thudding in your chest as tears slip down your cheeks, sliding over your fingers as they squeeze over your mouth, desperately muffling the sound. 

You hold your breath, forcing the pain and the panic and the grief back in. You can’t have these memories coming back to the surface, not now. Not when good things are finally starting to happen. Not when you’ve finally started to gain a glimmer of hope that things might turn out alright for you. You can’t ruin things now. 

You can’t let them see how broken you really are. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[sometimesanalice]

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they go. You aren't jealous, it’s just getting hard to ignore. It’s a good thing they're more than happy to remind you just who you belong with.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues.  You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.  

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.  

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye. 

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder.  “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

You can read more of my stories here!

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[intoxicated-chan]

Okay this is an idea I’ve had for a while but imagine Miguel hasn’t had time to fuck his s/o due to spider duties and Alchemax shenanigans. And they’re soooooo fucking horny typically they come to Miggy whenever they have this problem but they don’t want to bother him so they bring out some old tools. Their vibrators from before they started dating. Miguel comes home however right during the middle of you using one of them and he’s soooo mad cause he wants to fuck you. I’ll leave the rest of the fic up to you. 💋 Love you so much!!

You Set My Soul Alight

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel is always busy and leaving you in a mess. But you feel bad bothering him so you look for your past methods to get off.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Supermassive Black Hole” by The Muse. Apologies this took a while.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pet names (Mi amor, cariño) cock blocking, female masturbation, biting, blood, restraints, begging, choking, slightly mean Miguel…

Want more Miguel Content, check out my Masterlist!!

“Miguel.” You moaned out and pushed up against the kitchen counter.

You felt one hand slip under your shirt and, the other went down to your pants, tugging them down.

“Yes, mi amor?” Miguel whispered in your ear, “Use your words.”

“Please… Hurry.” You whined.

His body was up against you. His fingers lightly graze your skin in fear but still were attentive as possible. But you jolted when you felt a finger push inside you.

“Slow.” He murmured, “Slow.”

You continue to whine and moan as his finger moves in and out, then a second finger was added.

“Migu-!” His hand that was previously toying with your skin was now clammed over your mouth.

“So impatient.” He chuckled, “I ought to-“

His phone rings loudly and he curses rather loudly. Marching over it and answering it, talking to whoever was on the other side. But by the looks and sound, it wasn’t good news.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I have to head back to the office.” Miguel tells you.

“Go back? But you just got home a couple of hours ago.” You questioned.

“Well, they let the intern do the filings. I have to head back and fix their mistake.”

You watched him head up to the bathroom, leaving you flustered and bothered.

It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Whenever Miguel had the chance to finally touch you, something always has to interrupt him.

It would’ve been fine if it was for the last couple of days, but it just had to be weeks!

Miguel grumbles in his office, looking over the mess the employees let the intern make. And what’s worse? Oh yeah, he has to go back to the headquarters before Peter B. does something stupid. Why did he leave that idiot in charge again?

He grumbles even more when he gets the notification on his laptop, more emails sent, and more paperwork to look over. Sometimes he wishes he could just ditch work and head back to you. But he knows he’s the boss and he couldn’t be doing that.

And it wasn’t the first time this happened…

You felt Miguel’s crotch press up against yours, his lips kissed down to your neck, placing light kisses before biting down.

Your hands come up to his hair, pulling him away from your neck. You watch him as he smirks, licking the blood off his lips.

“What did I say before?” He murmurs.

“Miguel.” You huffed, “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please-“ His watch rang, making his hiss.

He grabs it, pressing a few buttons. A screen pops up, it’s Gwen, “Yes?”

“Um, how bad would it be if about a dozen villains escaped?”

“Gwen, you do not need me there.”

“Normally, yes. But if it’s all of them…”

“All of them?! How?!”

“I just got here!”

“I’m on my way.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, cariño, it’s-“

“Don’t apologize.” You sit up, “Go, I can take care of this.” Gesturing to the still-bleeding wound.

“I love you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, Miguel.”

It wasn’t just frustrating for him, it was you as well.

You wanted to beg him to stay a little longer, but at the same time, it felt selfish. The HQ would’ve fallen to pieces if Miguel wasn’t there to control the situation.

And now, you laid back on the bed. Usually, you’d keep yourself busy with your work but the ache between your legs was getting unbearable by the second.

You huffed and opened the bedside table, last drawer, and hidden under a blanket was your vibrator. It’s been a while since you last used it, it was before Miguel became slammed with work. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

You took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing. With it up against your clit, you pressed the button. The vibrations made you jolt and your breath hitched. You closed your eyes and let yourself fall into your imagination while pleasure flows throughout your body.

You missed his touch. The way he made you feel. How careful he was with you like you were made of glass. But once he was sure of himself, he’d let himself go.

The way his hands come to your throat, squeezing it before his hands traveled down. But your favorite part is when he finally got to bite your neck. You knew it was his favorite and he wasn’t going to admit it.

Those nights that were pure bliss always heeded carefully, he wanted to be sure that you were okay and-

“Didn’t think you’d miss me this much.” Miguel leans on the door frame. Watching you cover yourself you, “No, no, don’t stop on my account.”

“I-I thought-“

“Yeah, the others had it handled. Came back home once I learned.” Miguel closes the door as he enters the shared bedroom, “So, what’s this?” Snatching the now turned-off toy, “How long have you been using this?”

“Just now.” You tell him.

He climbs onto the bed, “Am I really that disappointing in bed?” Miguel forces your legs open and pulls you closer to him, “Is that the only thing that can get you off?” He starts stripping himself.

“No! You’re more than enough.” You try to sit up but he pushes you back down.

“Then tell me why do you still have these?”

“B-Because you’re so busy, I didn’t want to bother you.”

As if his smirk couldn’t get anymore wider, “All you had to do was use your words.” Miguel holds your hands up against the headboard, using his webbing to keep them secure, “So, tell me. ¿Qué quieres?” (What do you want?)

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me, Miguel.”

“See, was that so hard?” He chuckles.

He doesn’t bother wasting time preparing, he shoved himself in a single thrust. His hand comes to your throat, apply pressure.

Your legs tightly wrap around him, if he wasn’t already close to you, he is now.

“I’ve got a lot of making up to you.” He growls, “We have all day for it, keep your eyes on me and I’ll give you want you want.”

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.

[totalswag]

baby girls first birthday — RAFE CAMERON

authors note since my last dad!rafe fic did so well i thought why not make another one. you can find it fourth of july

join my taglist if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary celebrating layla's first birthday surrounded with friends and family.

warning(s) none just a whole lotta cuteness.

Today, one year ago, you brought your first daughter Layla into the world. Amazing how quickly a year can pass. It seems like you just gave birth and cradling her in your arms.

Can't count on your fingers how many times you cried the past two days over Layla turning one. No one can blame you for feeling these emotions. She's your first born.

“Can you believe she’s one?” Rafe says while setting up the last string of balloons over the arch wall that leads into the kitchen.

You shake your head, “no I don’t” feeling your words crack with emotion as you prepare breakfast— this was gonna be a special morning breakfast.

As the scent of freshly cooked pancakes permeated the air, you gently plated them, adding a sprinkle of syrup and a small dollop of whipped cream—just enough to taste. You cut the pancakes into tiny, baby-sized pieces, just right for Layla's delicate hands. A few blueberries on the side rounded out the meal, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy as you placed the plate in her high chair.

Rafe and you walked upstairs together to see if Layla was up. The sounds of her little gibberish could be heard down the hall. Layla was looking around her room sitting up— insane smile forms on her when she sees you two get closer. She lifts her arms up to get out.

"Happy first birthday, baby girl," you both exclaim.

She giggles with glee as Rafe scoops her up and places her on his hip before giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She stares at him in complete aww for a moment.

Layla turns to face you, her smile widening, her body slanting in your direction as if she wanted you to give her a quick hug. "My precious girl is one?" You hold her close to you for a couple seconds.

When you walk at the end of the stairs, Layla's eyes gleam with curiosity seeing the lavender colors. She saw the decorations of butterflies hanging from the ceiling, all different colors. She squealed with excitement and opened her eyes wide, grabbing for the closest one.

Rafe set her in her highchair while you went around the kitchen counter with your phone for pictures. Layla exclaimed when she saw her breakfast waiting to be devoured. You snap a few photos while she eats breakfast, then Rafe and you get your plates.

The house is ready for friends and family to arrive. The party doesn't start until twelve thirty, giving everyone plenty of time to prepare.

In case guests wanted to take pictures, there was a picture curtain with the words "Happy Birthday Layla" above.

Friends and family began to arrive, each one bringing gifts for Layla. You greeted them at the door, hugging each person as they stepped inside. Their faces lighting up seeing Layla in her birthday outfit.

"Oh Layla you look so cute in your dress!" Your mom gasped in excitement seeing Layla in Rafe's arms waving at those who came in.

"Can you say thank you grandma?' You grin up at Layla who babbles.

Layla responds by babbling and hiding her face in Rafe's chest.

Layla wore a soft lavender tulle skirt with a bodice decorated with tiny pink butterflies. Her golden curls were gathered into two small pigtails, secured with matching butterfly clips. She looked like the cutest princess.

Half an hour into the party, pictures were taken, conversations, kids running around, etc. The Cameron household was busy to say the least.

You showed everyone where the food and beverages would be once they were ready to eat— fruits, desserts, sandwiches, barbecue, cupcakes, drinks, and more. 

Sarah was leaning against the counter with a plate in her hand, nodding her head to the song playing from the tv. You grab a cupcake before joining her.

"This party is so cute, it screams Layla" Sarah states, regarding the decorations in the house. "The flowers are my favorite,"

"Aw, thank you, Sarah, and initially, when I was looking for decorations and saw the flowers, I knew I needed to get them!"

"On a real note and I'm sure you'll agree but Layla already being one is insane because it feels like she was just born" Sarah frowns, facial expression showing she's feeling a lot of emotions.

"I couldn't agree more— I cried last night before bed, and Rafe comforted me the whole night," you respond quietly.

It was time to start singing happy birthday as time went on. You sat Layla down in front of everyone in her high chair. She looked around waving with both hands with a smile. Rafe came around the corner with a small cake in his hand— Layla's eyes went wide.

"On three, we sing Miss Layla, happy birthday," you say enthusiastically, raising your right palm in the air.

As you both bent in to help Layla in blowing out the flame, Rafe stood next to you, his arm around your waist. Layla clapped her hands with joy as friends and family erupted in cheers and her face broke into the largest smile you've ever seen.

Opening presents was last to go. Layla's tiny hands grasp on each gift she received— curious whatever was in the bag or wrapped in paper. She got toys, clothes, and a few small things.

As the day drew to a close, friends and family began to leave with their children. Layla fell asleep in Rafe's arms in the backyard, sitting around the bonfire with your father, Ward, and friends.

Your mom, Rose, and you were sitting on the front porch swing having a simple conversation about motherhood. They each told you what motherhood taught them and the emotions you feel when it's your first borns birthday.

The smell of the fresh planted flowers, summer breeze hitting your skin, and the sun getting ready to set beautifully.

"I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a mother," you admitted after a time, your voice subdued. "There is so much joy, but also an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I just want to do the right thing for her, you know?

"You're doing an amazing job," Rose encouraged you, placing her hand lightly on your arm. "Motherhood has many obstacles, yet it is apparent how much you adore her. That's what counts the most."

Your mom nodded in agreement. "There isn't a perfect way to accomplish it, no manual or roadmap. You just have to believe in yourself and know that you are enough. "Layla is fortunate to have you."

You felt tears form at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. This conversation, on this particular day, exceeded your expectations. As you sat there, surrounded by women who had helped you through life and into motherhood, you felt overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Thank you for those kind words. I definitely needed to hear that, literally. Time just went by so fast in a blink of an eye" you sniffle while your mom and Rose rub your back.

It was officially the end of the night. The three of you were in your pajamas, ready for bed. The house had decorations up that will be up for another day or two. You held Layla in your arms—her head on your shoulder falling asleep.

You brought Layla upstairs, placing her in her crib and bringing the cover up to her chin. For a time, you simply stood there, watching her sleep, overcome with love for this tiny human who had altered your life in the most beautiful way.

Rafe threw his arm around you as you both stood there, and you knew that no matter how quickly time passed or how many birthdays came and went, the love you felt tonight would see you through it all. And when you turned off the light and closed the door, you couldn't help but grin, knowing that this was only the start of many more wonderful memories.

"Happy birthday, Layla."

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[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[localkiss]

Pray to Leon, He's Your God

pairing: kidnapper!leon x f!reader

cw: creampies, afab terms used, pet names galore, ooc leon, mean and desperate leon, power abuse, degrading, praising, god complex, religion, praying during sex, ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, dumbification, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of stalking, implied drugging, nipple play, somno, rape, hickey's, squirting, aftercare, las plagas mentions, control freak Leon lol, absolutely nasty dirty talk, spit kink, oral fixation, Ashley/Spain mission mentions...lmk if I missed anything >_< !

wc: 3.5k! hehehee a shorter fic for rn !

tags: @rigorwhoring @adiorxia @angelstargel @leonkennedygvrl @dilfstar @leonsdolly @dollfacefantasy @bonnibuckets @bunnyclaire @bwruisedkiss (tagging some moots :3 sry if u don't wanna be tagged gahhhh)

a/n: i didn't proof read much .. didn't edit much .. so um ignore anything weird. If it's messy n awkward uhhh GO WITH IT OK. 😮‍💨

“Baby,” he coos in your ear. Soft and sweet like he loves you. “open up.” Coaxing your mouth open for his thumb to slip inside.

The strange man dotes on you like a long-lost lover. Your brain is too foggy to even remember where you had met him if you did that. Tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you roll your head to the side, blinking extremely slowly, taking in the room around you.

A desk with a computer, two monitors and a gun lays on it. A couple of knives and a pack of gum too. You swear you can make out your panties and bra that went missing a few weeks ago on his desk as well. Makes you frown slightly.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and wipes the saliva on your lips, dragging it across your cheek. Like he's dragging his cock and tapping it all over your face. Get you all messy.

You swallow thickly, head swirling, body feeling heavy and numb all at once. Tears pricking your eyes as you lay beneath the dirty blonde in confusion.

“Who..” is all you can croak out, blinking the water down your cheeks.

“Shh baby… relax. I'm here to take care of you like you should be taken care of. Mkay?” He murmurs soft and sweet. Wiping away the tears.

Only then do you realize you're naked and he's only adorned in his boxers. How long has he been waiting for you to wake up? You don't even know what day it is or the time.

Weird as it is, you find yourself relaxing under his guidance, mimicking his steady breathing.

“Want some water, honey? Just stay here and be a good girl for me, alright?” He kisses your forehead, getting up and grabbing a water bottle from his fridge. Coming back with long, quick strides. “Here, sit up and open your mouth.” Helping you sit up against the pillows.

Slowly pouring the water into your mouth. Pulling away as soon as it fills up, watching you drink it. Repeating this step a few times before he sets it next to his bed.

“Good girl.” The man hums, patting your head like you're a dog.

“Mm… who are you?” You look up at him through your eyelashes, asking the question hesitantly.

“My name's Leon, baby. Do you not remember me?’

Shaking your head, he sighs. It's not like he expected you to remember him. The two of you met briefly at some sort of party and once the both of you were drunk, you got all handsy. Wanting him to fuck you in his car.

That was like right after he got back from his mission in Spain too. He swears Ashley didn't fully kill off the plagas in his body with the machine. It's whatever. What doesn't kill him only makes him stronger, he thinks. Unless this possessive, obsessive, need for you is something else. But then he doesn't want to end up like Major Krauser, all mutated and weird. He hopes it's something else.

“S’okay. We met a couple of times at a few parties. Got to know each other a little bit and slept with each other. And you gave me your phone number… here we are.” Maybe he's lying. Maybe he's not. You'd never know the difference as it feels like it's mostly true. Which it is. But he certainly didn't get your number through legal ways.

“Okay, Leon.” You mumble, limbs barely moving as you try to turn to your side. Wanting to rest a little bit.

“Wanna sleep, baby? Cuddle up with daddy?” He coos down at you, warm hands shifting you around and pulling the blanket over the both of you. His warm toned body is behind yours as he cradles you like a baby.

Soft kisses planted on your cheeks and one on your neck. You feel your face get red hot as you nuzzle into the pillow. “Mmh,” replying to his first question with a soft grunt.

Leon hums, “Goodnight baby girl. Sweet dreams.”

You don't even bother replying. Not like you could as you find yourself instantly asleep. Feeling his warmth behind you lulls you to your dreamscape.

Not long after you fall asleep, Leon kisses his way down your body. Maneuvering you to lay on your back. You sigh and open your legs, rolling your head to the side.

He sucks on your nipples, not biting down hard enough to wake you. Just to tease your unconscious body. Swapping between the two and massaging the other one he doesn't have his mouth on. God forgive him, for he cannot wait any longer.

Trailing a wet path down to your pussy, he moves the blankets up over you both. Making sure you're nice and warm as he feasts on you. He's not going to deprive you of your rest and warmth. Leon's not that big of an asshole.

“So pretty. Pretty fucking juicy pussy. All mine.” Kissing and nipping the skin around your vulva. Leaving light marks for him to enjoy later on.

Leon kitten licks your clit, groaning as he tastes you on his tongue. Tangy but so fucking good. Heaven. God created you for him, he's sure. Kissing all over your pussy, tonguing around your opening as he feels your body automatically flutter.

It's like she knows who owns her already. That got him smiling as he licks you open slowly and teasingly. Eyes fluttering shut as he immerses himself in the feeling and warmth of your body wrapped around his head.

He sucks on your clit, gently biting down on it. Wearing it down as he takes turns licking into you and sucking on your clit like a hard candy. If you were a flavor, he'd always buy your flavor. Make it his cologne, his soap, his detergent. So he can always be enveloped in you. And only you.

Slurping up your juices as he pulls away. Kissing each thigh tenderly, as his hips rock against the bed. Tasting you makes him harder than obsidian.

That night when he got your panties and bra after you guys fucked in his car drunkenly. He held them up to his nose and sniffed them so much, that people would've thought there were cocaine remnants in them.

But no, he was just addicted to the way you smelled and tasted. The way you cried on his tongue and begged him to just fuck you already. To stop teasing you.

Did he fuck you until you saw white? Yes, very much so. Until you squirted and made his arms bleed? Yep! He even went so far as to make you cum so much you couldn't even remember his name, just, “daddy, daddy, daddyyy!” Until you became a sobbing mess for him.

Of course, he gave you what you wanted the most though! His cum deep inside of your cunt. Multiple creampies. You truly emptied his balls. Couldn't get hard for the next couple of days. Truly washed over his libido to a much calmer state of mind.

He hovers over you, making sure to bring the blankets over his broad shoulders. Shifting his boxers down low enough to get his cock and balls free. Slowly rubbing up and down your slit with his tip. He lets out a soft groan, pushing into you and gritting his teeth to not wake you up from how loud he wants to be.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…” he begins slowly, “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Fuck.. Holy Mary, mother of—fucking—God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.” Leaning his head down into the crook of your neck. Repeating it again and again in his mind, louder and louder each time. Drowning out all the white noise in his ears.

Maybe it's just tinnitus but he thinks it's the plagas trying to invade his mind once more. He justifies his actions by blaming it on a virus infection. Your pussy is his fix. Only if you were just a bit more submissive like you were when you were drunk, maybe he would think of you as somebody he should kneel to. To worship.

“Amen. Amen, God fucking damn.” Leon rocks in and out, matching the pace of your breathing. He moans into your ear, gripping the fat of your hips before moving his hands to push your legs up to your chest. Immediately putting you into a mating press.

Licking and nibbling on each part of your neck that is exposed to his eyes, he mumbles sweet praises to your sleeping body.

“Yeah, good girl. Taking this cock so well, hm? Yeah?”

“Fuck baby, pussy squeezin' me like she doesn't wanna let go of me.”

“Mmm.. shit. Wanna make you mine. My wife. I'll get to do this to you every day. All y’gotta do is just lay there and be pretty f’me princess.”

“Yeah, yeah… take it. So fucking cute seeing your expressions and feeling your body enjoy me while you're asleep. You thinking about me baby? Dreaming about me ruining you in your sleep while I do it in real life?”

You try to shift around in your sleep and furrow your eyebrows. Letting out a low whine as your eyes roll around before opening hesitantly. “Mmph.. Leon?”

“Awwh, good afternoon sleepyhead.” He coos down at you, peppering your cheeks in kisses, rubbing up and down your sides. “Did daddy's dick wake you up?”

“Yeah,” you flutter around his length, barely processing what's happening. Only feeling full of him and his warm body pressing you into the blankets. Hands clutching onto his firm biceps weakly, digging your blunt nails into his pale skin.

Leon laughs cruelly, his hips rabbiting into your squelching heat with vigor. Half moaning into your ear, his hot breath tickling you faintly. “Shit. Look at me, baby. Who owns you? Let me fucking know who owns this pussy.”

Whimpering, your toes curl as a heat wave of embarrassment rolls down your spine. “Unhh… you do.”

He clicks his tongue at you and stops his hips, fully deep inside of you. “That's not who I am, princess. Now say it again or I won't fuck you.”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, that's me. Now, use your big girl words and tell me who owns this pussy baby.”

“Daddy owns this pussy. Daddy owns me…” you squeeze your legs against his sides. Impossibly tight around his cock, earning a groan from him. Nails were almost close enough to draw blood from his arms.

“Good girl. Such a smart cookie, yeah? All it took was daddy having to be a bit firm with his baby.” He presses his lips to yours, capturing you in a messy, feverish kiss. Teeth clashing as he starts to thrust in and out. Tongue swiping all across your mouth, letting you suck on it briefly before he pulls away.

One hand holding up his weight, the other one squeezing your lips together. Dipping down to spit into your mouth. Smirking as he hears your little noises of pleasure.

“Knew my baby would like that. So dirty.” He moves your face up and down, forcing you to nod. “Look, you're agreeing with me. Such a slut, eager for her daddy. Mhmm…”

Leon's lips are the only thing you can focus on. Besides his dick, of course. “Daddy,” you spread your fingers around his face. Like you're in awe of him, putting them into his mouth curiously. “please?”

He gently bites down, licking and sucking on your fingers playfully. Dark oceanic eyes narrowing and analyzing you. “Baby wants my fingers in her mouth?”

Bingo. You don't even have to respond, just the look of surprise in your eyes is enough for him. He presses a wet kiss to your palm and wrist. Slipping his thumb into your mouth as he speeds up his hips.

Cock jumps inside of you as you close your eyes. Sucking on it with fervor makes him swallow a whine of his own. God, you'll bring out the desperate whiny side of him someday.

He'll still dominate you through the whines and whimpers, of course. Can't let his precious baby try to top him. It'd be so cute.

Watching you fail and beg for daddy to take over. He'd let you try though, but he'd know he'll forever be in charge. Just lending you the ‘power’ for the moment.

“Mmhhf baby. Don't do that. Daddy's gonna shoot his load inside you early. We wouldn't want that. Ain't that right pumpkin?” Leon hums, pushing down on your tongue with his thumb. Enjoying the way you drool around it and bite on it like he's some sort of oral stress relieving toy. Or gum. Not that he minds being your fix to your oral issue.

You loosely have a grip on his arm, sort of not wanting him to leave your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, he presses his forehead against yours. Lowering his body so that he can barely pull out of you.

“Sweetheart, let daddy hold himself up with his other hand. Wanna play with your cute cunt. Make you cream all over this dick.” He pry’s himself out of your mouth, replacing it with his lips on yours. As he brings his other hand down to press tight and fast circles against your clit.

Lifting up so he can watch you fall apart on him. “Good girl. Such a sweet girl, letting her daddy do whatever he wants. Hmm? Isn't that right? Yeah,” he kisses your forehead tenderly.

At this point, you're babbling out nonsense. In your mind, you are agreeing with him. Out loud, you're saying, “daddy please.” As your walls squeeze around him tight like a vice.

He doesn't want to be too much of an asshole and make you use your dumb puppy brain, but there's a part of him that needs you to beg him to let you cum. Make you call him a God.

‘Please god, let me cum, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.’ Something along those lines will do it for him. Fill that womb up with his sticky white cum.

“Want daddy to let you cum?” Leon's gonna slowly fade into it. Have you wrapped around his little finger. Just as he is wrapped around your body like a snake does to its victim. To its food.

“Uhuh, please daddy. Wanna cum,” you mewl out shamelessly. Tears gathering up in your pretty beady eyes. Goddamn, you look gorgeous.

“C'mon puppy. Use that pretty little brain and beg daddy correctly. Daddy'll even give you a hint, baby doll. Beg for God, because aren't I the owner of you? The one who fulfills your dreams, needs, and wants? Hmm?” There's this crazy look in his eyes. Black little veins popping up in his skin, looking similarly to a dead person. But it's also fucking hot how he looks so psychotic and desperate for you. And only you.

“Daddy—God, mmmph… please let me cum. Please!” Can't help the moans escape as he smacks his fingers against your swollen, sensitive bud. Your fingernails attach themselves to his chest, dragging red welts down to his abs. Feeling them flex as he groans in pain.

“That's right bunny, that's right. Cum for me. Cream all over this fat dick,” he purrs as he spanks your clit extra hard, in time with a deeper and harder thrust.

Watching you as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth going slack. Holding you still as you tremble as you thrash around, orgasm still ringing around your body hard. Seeing you like this beneath him has his own climax running up on him. But he wants to make you watch as he fucks his cum into your womb.

“Baby,” Leon shushes, pressing faint kisses around your temples. “Look at me. Watch daddy's cock go in and out of your pretty pussy. Look at how daddy's stretching you out, baby girl. There's even a little bump from daddy.” He lifts up so you can look down between the two of you comfortably.

Still pulsing around him, he pushes down on the bulge. Listening to your cute little squeals of overstimulation. “God's gonna give you a baby now. Say, thank you, God. Thank you Leon for blessing me with your seed.” He half moans half chuckles, giving your cheek a couple of soft slaps.

“T-thank you God—Leon please… bless me with your cum…!” You sort of get it right. It's not like he's a stickler for how you say things or actually, repeat them back to him. Leon likes the control. So all is well.

He chants your name, rabbiting his hips even harder now. Eyes closed and forehead against yours. Whining as he gets closer and closer.

Leon groans as he feels your pussy greedily sucking him in. His hand immediately starts to rub your swollen nerves. “Gonna make you cum again and then I'll pump you full of it.”

You cry out, kicking and scratching at him. “S’too much! Can't cum again!” Lies. All lies.

“You can take it and you will take it. C'mon puppy. Know you can do it for me,” he coaxes another one out of you. Albeit slower this time.

Syrupy goodness coats your brain as you hiccup his name, going frigid beneath him. Oh, there you have it. Sprung a leak around his cock. You can't help but scream and hold onto him tightly. Cunt practically pushing him out because of how intense this one is.

The sight of you squirting uncontrollably has his cock kicking and spurting his hot, thick semen in your insides. Slowing his movements down he moans.

It's like it's never ending. Maybe Leon was backed up for a while and is gonna get you pregnant with triplets. Feels like it with the way he keeps pumping you full.

“Good girl. Good job. So good for me, mhmm… gonna keep you plugged up. Make sure it takes, yeah?” He coos soft and sweet, whining pathetically as his dick softens. All sensitive now.

Leon sounds so good, you think. All desperate for you.

You hum, blearily watching him maneuver the two of you around. Slumping against his chest, his warm hands soothe your sides. Giving him a soft kiss on his chest in reply. Too fuzzy-headed and dumb to even form an actual response. Not like he wanted one, it was probably more of a rhetorical question.

“That's it, baby. Rest on my chest. I'll clean us up once you're ready.” Giving the apex of your head a long kiss, he wraps his muscular arms around your frail, trembling figure.

Slowly pulling you into a deep slumber. With rainbows and sunshine.

Possibly an hour or two goes by and you wake up to warm water soothing your aching muscles. A soapy sponge rubbing your front side. Leaning back into him, you relax and let him do his thing.

“So pretty baby,” he sighs, grabbing a cup and slowly pouring it over your soapy body. Being careful not to get your face wet. “Does this feel nice?”

You nod immediately, scratching your scalp for a moment. Scooting away from him, grabbing your hair and giving him a good view of your back. Silently asking him to wash it.

The soapy sponge gently runs into your skin, over your shoulders and arms. Dipping down to your lower back before carefully going around your neck. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head once more. Washing it all off before he lets you lay there against him.

Can't help but yawn and stretch. This is going to make you fall asleep again! “Daddy. Want to go to bed.”

“Hmm.. okay. Let's get you out of here. Daddy'll put you in the cutest outfit.” He grabs the towel and wraps it around you. Drying you off before he dries himself off. “Lift your arms for me.”

You close your eyes sleepily and lift your arms, feeling him tug a loose shirt over your head. And you instinctively lift your foot, allowing him to put panties on you and pajama pants.

Opening your eyes you see that it's Hello Kitty. Biting your lip, you watch Leon get dressed. Quietly zoning out on his chest.

Leon picks you up bridal style with ease. Despite you being a little chubby, he acts like you weigh like nothing.

“Snuggle close to daddy, sweetheart.” He sets you down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Reaching down to grab a stuffed animal he had under his bed. One he bought in advance. Thinking you'd like it.

It's a cute little shark! Leon puts it next to you as he wraps his arms around you securely. “Sweet dreams baby.”

“Sweet dreams daddy.” You mumble in return, putting the shark in your arms as you snuggle into his warm chest with a huff.

Maybe next time he'll force you on your knees and make you worship him. And if you don't do it right, he'll baptize you with his special white liquid until you immediately submit to him. To praise him as a higher being. But, first and foremost, he's your daddy, before he's your God.

[jinxs-gf]

The Human Spider

The Team x Spider!Reader

summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.

warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly…but I like it

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe 😭🙏🏽 if not then…I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!

Life was good.

I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—

Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!

Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.

It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.

And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.

The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.

Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.

Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.

You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.

You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.

You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.

"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.

"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"

"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.

"Well you answered right now soo...."

An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.

"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"

"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."

"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."

He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).

With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.

And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.

Uh oh.

CRASH!

This was the third time that's happened to you this week!

He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.

"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.

You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"

The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.

The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.

Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.

"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.

It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...

While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.

Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).

All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.

Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."

Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.

"That was totally an innuendo!"

"Very mature KF."

"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"

Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."

You perk up, "oh, me?"

Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.

It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).

Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...

You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.

You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.

After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!

Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.

You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.

Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.

You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)

Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.

"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"

You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."

Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.

"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"

"No but it's embarrassing for us."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.

Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."

Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!

You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"

"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.

You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."

"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."

He walks away without another word.

"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."

"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."

I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??

[pepperonidk]

baby blues || l.c

pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader warnings: reader goes by mom, chan refers to himself as daddy (as a joke) word count: 1321 summary: starting a family is scary, but it's less scary with you by Chan's side

a/n: this is a loose prequel to my last Chan fic, the kids are alright, but can be read as a standalone as well!

main masterlist || taglist

“Are babies supposed to be that small?” Your husband’s hushed voice whispers from beside you. The feeling of his breath against your ear sent a tickle down your spine. You held your breath as the small bundle in your arms shifted and cooed in her sleep.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed and pressed a kiss to your temple. “We made that.” He pulled you closer into his side and wiggled a finger against your baby’s fingers. Her hands opened and wrapped around his reflexively.

“Hi Jia,” he cooed. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was strained and you turned to see tears brimming in his eyes. The sight alone was enough to send you to tears yourself but you fought them back to enjoy the moment instead. 

“Jia,” you whispered to her. “Do you want your daddy to hold you?” you looked up to see Chan slightly panic as you shifted to try to move her into his arms.

“No, no,” he dismissed. “You can hold her for now, honey. I read somewhere about a critical period for her to imprint on you.” You chuckled and reminded yourself to ask about where he read that from, but tonight was the first time it was no longer just you and Chan, but a family.

The two of you had been prepping intensely for months, reading every parenting book you could get your hands on, diapering so many watermelons, anything you could do to feel like you would know what to do once the baby came. But nothing could have prepared the two of you for the reality of holding your real life child in your arms.

Or at least you couldn’t. Chan had yet to hold the baby in his arms. He was able to get away with it during the first couple of nights at the hospital because the doctors and nurses had her in and out constantly. But now… the three of you were finally home and Chan had nowhere to hide. 

It didn’t take long for you to notice his hesitation once you were alone. It was pretty obvious as soon as he brought the car carrier down from the car. Rather than setting the car seat down then unbuckling her and taking her out, he brought the carrier all the way to the nursery and set the whole thing in the crib.

“Uh, honey,” you chuckled from the door. “The baby carrier doesn’t go in the crib.”

“Right…” he sighed. He quickly turned to you and shooed you away. “I’ll get her out, just get into bed, you should rest while you can, babe.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you decided to walk into the room and towards a panicked looking Chan. he was dressed in his sweatpants and the same hoodie he’s been in since you went into labor a few days ago. His hair was going every which way and a stress pimple had begun to form at the tip of his nose. He looked ethereal.

He ran a hand through his hair and you could see his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “No rest for the wicked?” he joked as you shot him a glare. Rather than reply, you reached down into the crib where Jia was asleep in her carrier. You undid the buckles and carefully pulled her out, careful to place a hand behind her neck to support it. She stirred for just a second before letting out a tiny baby yawn that made your heart do flips. You pulled her close to your chest before turning back to your husband.

“Spill it, Chan,” you coaxed. “Why don’t you want to hold your daughter?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he let out a sigh and sat on the plush armchair beside the crib. You rocked Jia against you quietly as you waited for his answer.

“I’m scared,” he answered sheepishly. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Scared?” you echoed back to him. “Honey, you’ve read every book on parenting, you’ve watched all the mom vlogs, and I’m pretty sure you can diaper anything in existence. What are you scared of?”

“She’s real,” he said exasperatedly. “What if I drop her? What if I mess something up and it scars her for the rest of her life and she ends up having daddy issues so she hates men and then she spirals and then–”

“Woah, woah,” you interrupted. “I think you’re spiraling, babe.” You let out a quiet laugh and sat on the armrest beside him.

He looked at the baby who was snoring softly, swaddled tight in your arms. He looked envious of your position and it made your heart ache. “Chan…” you called his name softly. “You’re not going to mess her up, and if you do… thankfully her memory won’t really kick in for a while.”

Chan groaned at your response. “That’s so helpful, babe,” he pouted. “I’m serious.”

“I am too,” you smiled at him. “Babies are tougher than you think, and you are gentler than you think. And you are going to be an amazing father.”

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because you care so much already,” you replied, leaning down to press against his temple. You stood to return Jia back to her crib before Chan reached up to tug at your shirt. 

“Wait,” he called. “I think I can do this.” He was more confident now.

“Good,” you replied. “My arms are getting tired.” You smiled at him and leaned down to hand Jia over to him. “Just get your arms ready and make sure the back of her neck is supported by your arms,” you instructed.

He did as you told him and she slid into his arms easily. Her brows furrowed for a second as she adjusted before she nuzzled further into Chan’s arms. You heard him sigh in relief. 

“See?” you chimed. “Not bad, right?”

“This is nice,” he agreed with a bright grin. “Now go get some rest for real, babe. Daddy’s here.”

You cringed at his words but nodded anyway. “Alright, ‘daddy,’” you teased with a yawn. “Good night, honey.” You leaned down to give him one last peck on the lips and a kiss on Jia’s temple before heading to your bedroom. You plopped down in the bed and slipped under the covers, reaching over to turn on the baby monitor on your nightstand.

You smiled to yourself as you heard Chan’s soft voice come through the fuzzy speaker.

“Hi baby,” he cooed. You could see over the screen him holding Jia’s hand in his and cooing down at her. “I’m your daddy, or papa, or appa, or whatever you decide to call me. I can’t wait for you to start talking so that you can tell me which you prefer.” 

You chuckled softly at his words. “But for now, I think this is fine,” he continued. “Did you know I was scared of you just 5 minutes ago? I guess that goes to show how badass you are.” He looked up for a second, startled for a second. “Am I allowed to say that?” he asked himself.

“Don’t tell your mom I said that,” he shushed conspiratorially. “You and I are gonna be best friends, and I can’t wait for all our adventures together. I have so much to share with you, but first, I’ll show you a song my mom used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

Chan began singing a soft lullaby, and that was the last thing you remember before you drifted into a deep sleep… which only lasted an hour or two before Jia started crying. “Honey?” you heard Chan call for you over the monitor as well as through the wall. “I think she’s hungry.”

You got up with a small yawn, tired, but excited to take care of the family you had.

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au idea! This story was actually supposed to be a part of my fic "What to do When an Eldritch God Decides That You're Friend-Shaped", but I decided that this idea didn't really mesh well with the rest of that fic and would probably be better off as its own separate story.

And I will say, in my opinion, that this is probably one of my best au ideas yet. I had so much fun just writing this! Also, heads up, this post is going to be very long because I really love this idea! So, I hope you all enjoy! :D

In this au, which is set post-Camlann, Morgana wasn't able to take Merlin's magic away before the battle, so Merlin was able to save Arthur and defeat both Mordred and Morgana without revealing his magic. He was also able to prevent Gwaine's death since he kept Morgana preoccupied in the battle. So, Camelot is saved, and everything is great!

Except, Arthur has some questions. He knows from Morgana's furious screams during the battle that she was killed by a sorcerer named "Emrys", but Arthur never saw him. And Arthur recognized that name from when Morgana taunted him years ago by saying "Not even Emrys can save you now."

Arthur knows that he owes his kingdom and perhaps his life to this Emrys guy, but he knows nothing about him other than that he's a very powerful sorcerer, more powerful than Morgana. This frightens Arthur, as he doesn't know what Emrys wants or why he helps Arthur. For all Arthur knows, Emrys could be just biding his time to take over Camelot and was simply doing away with his competition by killing Morgana.

After things calmed down after the battle of Camlann, Arthur decides that he needs more information on Emrys. Who he is, what are his motives, how can they find him, and a million other details that Arthur needs to ensure his people's safety. He first goes to Gaius for information, but Gaius can tells him that, according to the myths of the Old Religion, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and is held in high regard by the druids.

Gaius's answer only heightens Arthur's alarm, as the prospect of having to fight to most powerful sorcerer ever is terrifying to him. However, he still doesn't have any good information on Emrys, so he goes to the next best source: the druids.

Thanks to Arthur making peace with the druids after promising the ghost of the young druid boy and permitting them to use their magic for peaceful purposes only, there were a couple druid camps not far from Camelot. Arthur picked the closer one and took a day to travel there alongside Merlin and a few knights in the hopes of finally getting some answers.

When they arrive at the camp, they're met with worried glances and panicked faces, but the druid elders welcome them into the camp nonetheless, offering them all a seat by their campfire and warm meal. Once they got settled and Arthur exchanged some pleasantries with Iseldir, the druid chieftain, Arthur was finally able to ask what had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Iseldir, I know that your people hold a sorcerer named Emrys in high regard, and it's come to my attention that he was responsible for Morgana's defeat at Camlann and possibly on other occasions. Please, I need to know more about him and why he's chosen to help me."

Several people froze and tensed at Arthur's questions, including Merlin. Arthur sighed internally at Merlin's usual panic. He knew that Merlin could become easily scared in the face of magic, so he should have knows that his friend wouldn't approve of Arthur actively seeking out a dangerous sorcerer.

After a short, tense pause, Iseldir clears his throat and responds.

"I'd be happy to answer some of your questions about the god of magic!"

Wait, did Arthur hear that correctly? God of magic?! Arthur, in his shock, blurted out,

"Emrys is a god?! I had heard that he was a powerful sorcerer, not some deity!"

Iseldir chuckled a bit before responding,

"Emrys is indeed the god of magic in the Old Religion, the son of the Triple Goddess herself! He is not simply the master of magic, but rather magic itself, its very incarnation!"

That... was a rather frightening prospect, and it confused Arthur even further. Why would magic itself fight against Morgana? Why take Arthur's side? And, perhaps more importantly, was Arthur going to have to fight a god in order to protect his kingdom?!

Iseldir continued before Arthur's hysterical thought could bubble up to the surface.

"As I said, I'm happy to answer your questions, but please know that there are some secrets that Emrys has entrusted our people with that we cannot divulge, and there are some truths that might be... difficult for you in particular."

Arthur frowned at Iseldir's answer, unsure of what to make of it.

"What do you mean it might be difficult for me in particular?"

Iseldir winced a bit, grimacing like he didn't know how to respond without warranting a negative response.

"Well, there are some elements of Emrys's story that intertwine with your own life in some ways that you might not expect or be ready to hear at this point. Your life and Emrys's are highly connected, King Arthur, even if you don't know the extent of it yet."

Arthur's eyes widened at this admission. His life was connected to this mysterious god of the old religion? How could that possibly be true? He had didn't even know that Emrys was a god until a few moments ago! However, as curious as he was about what Iseldir could be talking about, he had more pressing matters at hand.

"We can discuss how I am connected to Emrys later. For now, I need answers to more important questions. Why does Emrys help Camelot? What is he hoping to get out of it?"

Iseldir looked much happier to answer this question, speaking calmly with a serene smile on his face.

"Emrys had many reasons to stand against the witch. She frequently hunted down and killed more peaceful magic users who did not share her taste for vengeance and bloodshed, including our fellow druids and even the Catha, a small sect of priests of the Old Religion that followed Emrys's will. Emrys fought against Morgana to protect these followers of his from her wrath."

Arthur nodded at Iseldir's explanation. As odd as it felt to have something in common with a god of the Old Religion, he could understand very well the drive to protect his own people. If Emrys's people were also in danger because of Morgana, it made sense for him to join forces with Arthur, even if Arthur was unaware of that alliance. Seeing Arthur's understanding, Iseldir continued with his explanation.

"Emrys also fought against Morgana in order to punish her for her hubris and use of dark magic. There are certain dark arts that take the power that Emrys grants us and twist it into a horrible force, bound only by the will of its user. Such arts are expressly forbidden by Emrys, and he cannot control what sorcerers do with such magic after its been corrupted so thoroughly. Morgana frequently used such forbidden arts and claimed the title of high priestess while ignoring the will of the gods, even the one that she drew her power from. Emrys is normally slow to anger, but for such transgressions, he became furious with Morgana and sought to punish her for treason against magic itself."

Arthur understood that a little bit less, but he could also relate to Emrys's reasoning as a king who had also had to punish some of his own citizens for treason.

"I can see that Emrys stood opposed to Morgana, but does Camelot have anything to fear from him? I can understand why he might not be very forgiving towards us considering my father's actions during his reign."

To Arthur's immense relief, Iseldir shook his head slightly before providing an explanation.

"No, Camelot has nothing to fear from Emrys. He knows that not everyone in Camelot agreed with your father's actions, and he can see progress that you've made since the end of your father's reign. In fact, Emrys has assisted Camelot many times even when Morgana wasn't involved!"

Arthur reeled backwards in shock at Iseldir words. The god of magic, helping Camelot freely? Despite everything his father had done?! Iseldir's explanation forced Arthur to re-evaluate what he knew of the Old Religion.

He had always seen the Old Religion and its gods as monstrous and barbaric. However, that wasn't the case, was it? Emrys had saved the kingdom that sought to destroy him. The Disir had shown Mordred mercy, even though Arthur had rejected their offer. The White Goddess had restored Guinevere's soul at the Cauldron of Arianrhod and healed her of Morgana's curse. Were all of the gods and goddesses of the Old Religion so benevolent and kind? Had Arthur misunderstood the Old Religion for his entire life?

However, Arthur was still shocked at Emrys in particular choosing to help Camelot, supposedly with no ulterior motives besides a common enemy in Morgana. That was how Camelot had survived against such odds? How could it be that magic itself was on their side?!

As Arthur looked at Iseldir again however, he noticed that the druid chieftain's face had pulled into a grimace again. Arthur certainly knew that look, he had seen it on the faces of his council members frequently.

"There's something that you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know that there are some things that you may be hesitant to divulge, but please, I must know everything I can about Emrys, for the safety of my kingdom."

Iseldir paused again, sighing deeply. He sat still for a moment, as if pondering how to proceed.

"Truthfully, there is another reason why Emrys assisted you, but it involves what I spoke of earlier, wen I said that your life and Emrys's are connected in ways that you may not expect. I am willing to tell you such things, but these truths might be hard for you to hear."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued again.

"I have learned many uncomfortable truths about my own life through the years, so I will ask you: how could my life be connected to the god of magic?"

Iseldir nodded at Arthur's words and began speaking with a serious, nearly grim, voice.

"I assume that you are familiar with how life is exchanged in the practice of the Old Religion? For any life give, a life must be taken."

Arthur flinched backwards at Iseldir's words, already recognizing what topic was about to be brought up. He had come to terms with the truth of his birth years ago, but hearing it again didn't make it any easier. Blinking back tears, Arthur responded.

"Yes, I... I know. I'm aware that my father made a deal with the priestess Nimueh to secure an heir, and I know that my mother was the one who paid the price in the end."

Arthur heard quiet gasps coming from the knights around him, while Merlin silently put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. Iseldir, after a moment, continued with his explanation.

"You are correct in your understanding, however, there is one part of the story that you are unaware of."

Arthur jolted in shock at Iseldir's words. There was more to the story of his birth? Frantically, Arthur started asking questions.

"What do you mean? What haven't I been told?"

Iseldir patiently and softly answered Arthur's questions, trying to soften the crushing revelation that he was about to tell Arthur.

"The balance of life and death is at the very core of the Old Religion. However, it is not the power of creation. The power over life and death was used by the high priestesses to resurrect and bring life to someone who has already passed. To magically create a new life, a new soul, from nothing is an act of creation, something that takes far more power than manipulating the balance of life and death. An act of creation takes the power of a god."

"I... I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am sorry that you had to find out this way, King Arthur. But in order to successfully ensure that your mother and father had an heir, Nimueh called upon the power of her patron god: Emrys."

This time, it was Arthur was gasped in shock at this information, hysteria rising in him once again.

"Are you telling me that Emrys was responsible for my very creation?! That it was his power that created me?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid. To create your soul, Emrys did more than just weave his own power into a life. He cut out a shard of his own soul and breathed life into it, thus creating you. While we don't know his reasons for doing so, Emrys created you from a part of his own being."

Arthur felt like his breath had just been punched out of him. What... what did this mean?!

Iseldir must have seen his panic, and further clarified.

"In the eyes of the gods, this made Emrys your true creator and, in the eyes of the magical world, your father."

At those words, Arthur stopped breathing entirely. Unbeknownst to Iseldir, who kept going with his explanation, Arthur entire worldview was collapsing in on itself.

Magic itself was his father?! What did that even mean?!

And oh god was he even a Pendragon? Did he even have a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot?!

Arthur's panic was so strong that he could barely feel how Merlin's supportive hand on his shoulder was now clenching hard enough to bruise.

(Meanwhile, inside Merlin's panicking mind: WTF??! Oh shit I owed HOW MUCH to Uther Pendragon in child support?! Am I a deadbeat dad to my own best friend??)

"This is why you triumphed over any foe, magical or otherwise. Emrys forbade any magic from truly harming you, and he rose to protect you when you needed him. He will always fight by your side, as you are, in many ways, a part of him."

Iseldir paused, now noticing Arthur's hyperventilating.

"I assume that you have many questions following this news. Please, feel free to ask anything, there's no need to be scared by this!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep from laugh hysterically. No need to be scared?! His entire life had just been turned on its head!

"If... if Emrys is my true father, what about Uther? Do I even have a claim to my throne?"

"Ah, there's no need to worried about that. While Emrys might be your father in terms of your soul, Uther is still your father in terms of blood. Do not fret, King Arthur, you are still of Pendragon blood and have every rightful claim to your throne."

Arthur calmed down a bit at Iseldir's words, breathing much easier now. This explained so many things about Arthur's life, how he had survived in situations that he by all means shouldn't have. Still, he had many questions for Iseldir.

"If I am truly the son of magic itself, am I even human, or am I some sort of demigod?"

At this question, Iseldir shook his head.

"That, I truly do not know. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone knows the answer to that question except for Emrys himself."

Finally, an idea occurred to Arthur. He stiffened as he blurted out,

"Can I speak with him then? Is there any way to summon him?"

As soon as the idea took root in Arthur's mind, he couldn't get it out. Emrys had to have been looking out for Arthur for many years now, using his power to protect him. This notion of having a secret father who had been caring for him for years almost felt like having a second chance.

Arthur never had the relationship with Uther that he wanted. There was no affection, no bonding, and no comfort to be found there. Only expectations and demands.

But Emrys had apparently been helping Arthur for years with no expectations and no demands. Arthur had fantasized as a young boy about what it would have been like to have a kind, caring father, the kind he saw doting on their children in the marketplace. Now, it almost seemed like he had another chance of having a father, one who truly cared about him!

So naturally, Arthur wanted to meet him! Both the druids and the knights look slightly confused at Arthur's excited outburst about wanting to meet Emrys, but the druids tell him that they have everything that they need to perform a summoning ritual, but they'd need some time to set it up.

Arthur asks if they can set it up for him, and they nod and walk away to begin preparations. Meanwhile, Merlin and the knights ask Arthur if he's just lost his mind. They know that this must be shocking for him, but does he need to summon a god?!

Merlin shows the most vocal opposition to Arthur's plan, saying that they still don't even know if they can trust Emrys. All they have to go on is the word of the druids, and they seem pretty biased in Emrys's favor.

Arthur smiles and tells Merlin that he appreciates his protectiveness, but this is something that Arthur needs to do. He needs this closure, this chance to connect with his last living parent.

Arthur does take Merlin's concerns into consideration though, and orders for his men to leave the camp and take Merlin with them, so they're far away and protected if Emrys turns out to be untrustworthy.

(As the knights drag a struggling Merlin away, Merlin is frantically talking with Iseldir in his mind about what the summoning ritual entails and what it looks like. If he magically pops up next to Arthur right as Arthur does a ritual to summon Emrys, even Arthur would be able to put two and two together!

Luckily, Iseldir informs him that the summoning ritual will summon his soul, not his body, and Arthur wouldn't be able to recognize him. Still, Merlin tried to talk the druids out of the ritual, because Merlin doesn't want his soul to get yanked out of his body! But there was little that the druids could do with Arthur insisting on the ritual.)

After preparing the materials for the ritual, the druids take Arthur back into a tent to get him ready. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest with both excitement and fear as the druids walked him through what he had to do.

First, they gave him some plain but comfortable robes to change in to. They explained that Emrys preferred his followers to come to him in the garments of peace, not war, so his armor, chainmail, and weapons would have to be left in the tent.

After changing into the robes, Arthur felt strangely both vulnerable and comforted. As the druids rubbed some flowery smelling oil into his arms and then led him to a small wooden altar, Arthur couldn't help comparing this experience to approaching Uther.

Whenever he was meeting with his father, Arthur was expected to show no weakness, no flaws. He had to look the part of the warrior prince, trained since birth and hardened by battle. However, here with Emrys, Arthur was dressed in comfortable clothes and told to simply ask for Emrys's presence before the altar. He didn't need a sacrifice or penance or any sort of challenge to summon Emrys. All that the druids told him was to "call for him, and Emrys will answer."

Placing one hand gently on the wooden surface of the intricately carved altar, Arthur cleared his throat wetly before saying aloud to the empty space in front of him,

"Emrys, I'm... I'm not sure if you're here, but I'm your- your son, Arthur. You probably know me already, though, since you've been helping me and protecting me for a long time now. I- I wanted to thank you for your help. So, I would appreciate it if you could appear, so I could meet you and thank you in person."

There, Arthur thought that was a pretty good introduction! This was his first time meeting his new father, so he needed to make a good first impression!

Arthur stood, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he tried to push down his disappointment with each passing moment that Emrys did not appear. Maybe Arthur did it wrong? Maybe Emrys hadn't heard him? Or maybe Emrys had heard him, but was disappointed in Arthur and deemed him a weak son, just like Uther had?

As Arthur tried to swallow down his hurt, suddenly, there was a bright flash of light above the altar. It was so bright that Arthur had to throw his hand in front of his eyes and turn away, but his heart leapt at the sight.

Was this it?! Was he about to meet his creator and have another chance at having a father?

As soon as he could, Arthur lowered his hand and opened his eyes, anxiously awaiting his first glimpse at Emrys! As the light died down, Arthur was able to make out the outline of something...

As the light slowly dwindled, Arthur could see a bright, glowing ball of golden light, very similar to the one that had saved him from that cave so many years ago, floating above the altar. His eyes widened as he realized what, or more likely who, this light must be.

Emrys was a god after all, Arthur really shouldn't have assumed that he'd look like a human. The god of magic taking a human form, what a crazy idea!

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Arthur called out to the light.

"Emrys? Is that you?"

At his words, the light floated down from the altar until it was hovering right in front of Arthur, an arm's reach away. Arthur fought the urge to reach out and touch the light, just to see if it was real and not just a product of his own wishful thinking.

After a couple seconds, the ball of light flashed, and Arthur heard what sounded like multiple voices coming from it, speaking in unison.

"Hello Arthur. I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you. I am Emrys."

(Elsewhere, Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for making his soul-self sound sufficiently inhuman and speak in a manner that was completely unlike his usual self. Arthur couldn't possibly figure his identity out now!)

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a joyful laugh and a sob. Emrys actually came! Clearing his throat, Arthur tried to calm down his excitement and nerves and put on his best diplomat voice. He needed to start off strong here!

"I'm glad that we could meet as well. It's come to my attention that I have many things to thank you for, including Camelot's victory over Morgana in our latest battle. You might have saved all of Camelot, and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Emrys silently floated in place for a moment, making Arthur sweat with nervousness. Had he already blown his one chance of having a caring parent?

Finally, Emrys's... orb body (what else was Arthur supposed to call it?!) glowed again and spoke with his multiple voices overlapping in harmony.

"You do not owe me anything, Arthur. There are no debts between us. We are family, tied together by our very souls. You never have to feel indebted to me for protecting you and Camelot. I do it not for a reward or recognition, but because I care for you."

Arthur's eyes misted over as he took in Emrys's words. How many times had he wished to hear anything like that from Uther? How many nights had he lied awake wondering what unconditional love from a parent would feel like?

As tears started silently rolling down Arthur's face, Emrys drifted closer to him. Arthur was startled by this move and didn't really know how to respond. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to ball of light, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, the light moved towards Arthur's outreached hands. Arthur almost expected to flinch back upon contact, but instead, when his hands finally touched the ball of light itself, he was only met with a warm, comforting sensation, and he instantly relaxed and leaned into it. The only thing he could compare it to were those warm hugs that Merlin gave him whenever he felt down, which he would never admit to Merlin that he enjoyed.

Arthur gently guided the light closer, until he was hugging it against his chest and that wonderful warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his entire body. Arthur wondered if this counted as getting a hug from his father, and then immediately decided that the answer was yes. And his new father apparently gave very good hugs.

Arthur stayed with Emrys for several more minutes, until the sun was setting. From there, Emrys told him that he had spent too much time in the mortal realm and couldn't hold his form for much longer without taking time to rest. Panicking, Arthur asked if he would be able to see Emrys again, he couldn't lose his new father so soon after meeting him!

Emrys reassured him that they'd see each other again soon and that he'd be by Arthur's side the whole time, even if Arthur couldn't see him. Comforted by this news, Arthur bid his new father farewell, and the ball of light slowly dissipated.

Arthur then returned to Merlin and his knights, who had a million questions for Arthur. Arthur answered their burning questions as best he could, and they were relieved to see that Arthur was safe and not scarred by the experience of talking to the god of magic.

The next day, they returned to Camelot, and Arthur soon realized that even if he couldn't see Emrys himself, he could certainly the effects that Emrys had on the world around him.

Arthur never fell sick, his rooms were never too hot or too cold, his muscles were never sore from training, his attackers that snuck into the castle never managed to land a hit on him, his kingdom's crops prospered, and a million other things went right in Arthur's life, and for the very first time, Arthur understood.

Magic loved him. And, more importantly, his father loved him.

And it didn't escape other people's notice either. He had told the knights that he had brought with him to the druid camp to not discuss the revelation of his relationship to Emrys, but one knight got drunk at the tavern and told his friend, and someone overheard, and now everyone in the kingdom had heard the news that King Arthur was apparently the son of a god.

The fact that Arthur had secretly prayed for Emrys's help when Gaius reported about a deadly plague in the lower town, only for Emrys to immediately appear again as a ball of light in the middle of a council meeting in front of dozens of witnesses didn't help Arthur keep it a secret either.

(Meanwhile, Merlin hears all of Arthur's prayers for Emrys. He's able to take care of most of Arthur's concerns just as Merlin, but a very powerful/emotional prayer from Arthur actually summons him in his "Emrys" form, leading to some awkward moments, but he makes it work for Arthur's sake.)

On the bright side of Arthur's heritage being revealed, other kingdoms were now much more open to peaceful negotiations and trade deals.

And on one occasion where a very foolish king tried to declare war on Arthur, the enemy king's army only made it a hundred yards of Camelot's forces before the earth itself broke open into a wide chasm that started swallowing the leaders of the enemy army whole. No one was stupid enough to attempt an attack on Camelot after that.

Life goes on like this for about a year, until Arthur catches Merlin using magic for some mundane purpose. Arthur is shocked of course, but magic has been legal for a while now. When he questions Merlin on where he learned magic from, Merlin stammers and says "Well... uh, Emrys..."

Arthur cut Merlin off, yelling because apparently his father was teaching Merlin magic behind his back?! What was that about!

Merlin then decides to take this misunderstanding and roll with it, because there's no way in hell that he's looking Arthur in the eyes and telling him that he's actually Arthur's magical father.

Merlin spins a story about how Emrys had been slowly teaching Merlin magic so Merlin could help Arthur out and always have someone nearby with magic to protect him! Arthur accepts this story, but is secretly a little bit jealous. How come Emrys chose to teach Merlin magic and not his own son?

After Arthur asks Emrys about this, Emrys apologizes to Arthur, saying that he didn't know if Arthur would be interested. He then starts trying to teach Arthur magic (to pretty much no success). To further apologize to Arthur, Emrys gives him a gift! Emrys had apparently heard about how Uther had forbidden Arthur from having a pet as a child despite Arthur begging for one, so Emrys decided to remedy this by giving Arthur a baby dragon to take care of and to train to protect Camelot.

Everyone else is alarmed by this, but Arthur is almost moved to tears because he loves the little dragon so much already!

And this au is already wayyyy too long, so I'll cut it off there! I'm tempted to call this the "Arthur gets catfished into a healthy parental relationship" au lol!

I hope you all enjoyed this au! Sorry about it being longer than usual, but I had a lot that I wanted to write about this au idea! And if you want to see even more of this au, feel free to let me know if you'd like a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my (very long) ramblings! :D

[no-144444]

losing battle- l.stroll

Day 10 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: it's a marriage of convenience that's becoming pretty inconvenient when you start falling for your best friend.

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Lance Stroll was 2 things, powerful, and a mess. His driving was messy, his bedroom was messy, his house was messy, his relationship was messy, but most of all, his entire life was messy. After a very public split with the woman he’d been dating for literal years, he fell deeper and deeper into racing, somehow cleaning up his act and not acting like a paid seat driver. He was good. The car was good. Podiums were a regular thing for both him and Fernando. Wins were becoming a regular thing for Fernando, and Lance had a few more under his belt. Not only that, but they were finally fighting for the championships, and Fernandio had won his third last season, it was Lance’s turn now, and he was making the most of it. Everything was great. 

The only issue? Lance was now boring in the media’s eyes. He had no scandals, no girlfriend, no family drama (well…?), nothing. He was a perfectly polite, perfectly fine, all-round good person. That wasn’t enough for the press. Every race, the same questions got asked; “are you dating anyone?” “who’s the special lady in your life?” “are you hiding a wife from us?”

He wanted it to stop. That’s where you came in. His sweet, kind, best friend since childhood. You’d been to races over the years, you’d been seen with him, you were gorgeous, the fans loved you, most importantly, Lance loved you, as a friend anyway. 

“So I have to marry you?” You gawked at Lance as he set the contracts out in front of you. “And then we act like a couple until…?” “Until the press gets off my back and I can say we amicably divorced and stayed friends,” he explained. 

“And this is a good idea because…?”

“It’s been 4 years since me and ‘she-who-must-not-be-named’ broke up, people wouldn’t just believe me and you got together like 3 years ago and we’re still just ‘together’-”

“And why not?” you questioned.

“I honestly don’t know these were just the points my dad wrote out for me to say,” he shrugged. “Please help me out?”

You sighed, how bad could it be?. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Excellent!” Lawrence beamed, startling the both of you. “Now, we should talk about certain things- children?”

“No way,” you answered firmly. “No way,” he answered firmly. 

You both burst into fits of laughter and Lawerence ended up leaving, knowing there was no stopping you two. Well, you were a wife now, and a WAG.

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lancestroll

liked by pierregasly, logansargeant, and 3,837,231 others

lancestroll happy anniversary baby :)

comments

fernandoalonso: my favourites!

user45: he kept this REAL quiet

user33: what. the. fuck.

alexandriastleux: can't wait to meet her!

user42: MY CHANCE IS GONE? -> user99: girl what chance he's a billionaire.

georgerussell: I WASN'T INVITED? -> lancestroll: no one was lol. just family -> georgerussell: I CAN BE FAMILY

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It could be very bad. Very, very bad. 

By age 25, you would’ve thought that you’d gotten over your childhood crush on Lance, but no. It was rampant every time he so much as looked in your direction. He was sweet, kind, funny, and so nice. He made an effort to include you in things, invited you to galas and dinners with the team, he’d lean over and kiss you randomly, take your hand, smile at you, kiss you before he got in the car, wink at you from the podium, kiss you when he got out of the car.

He was fucking perfect, for no fucking reason. 

You sat beside Lawrence as he chatted about the race, Canada, Lance’s home race. You listened attentively and didn’t notice Lance coming up behind you, and your brain short-circuited  when he kissed you on the head and wrapped his arms around you, making your eyes widen and your skin heat. It was always like this, any time he touched you, you felt it. Everywhere. 

Lawrence laughed. “You don’t have to pretend here, there’s no cameras.”

Lance’s hands fell away and you immediately missed them. He sat down beside you on the couch and smiled at you, whispering a ‘hello’. 

“Sometimes I think you two aren’t even acting. You’d think you were really in love,” Lawrence chuckled. 

“Alright dad,” Lance scoffed. “What were you two talking about before?”

“Just Canada in general, chatting about the house and stuff,” you shrugged. You and Lance had just bought your first house together and were finally moving in after months of it being renovated. Being ‘married’ to Lance was easy, simple, nice even. It was literally living with your best friend, which worked well for the two of you. 

“Where are we going tonight if you win?” Lawrenece asked, a sly smirk on his face.

“Out,” Lance shrugged with a grin. 

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He’d done it. He’d won his fucking home race. You celebrated with him at the parc fermé and cheered as he stood on the podium, proudly singing along to his national anthem. He’d won.

Once his media duties were done and he was showered and not smelling like champagne, out on the town you went. Clubs, pubs, bars, it didn’t matter, the night flew away from you as the drinks flowed and the energy buzzed. 

It was in some random club where Landio had befriended the DJ when Lance bumped into you again. 

“Hi!” he shouted over the music, clearly drunk. 

“Hi,” you smiled back, a little bit more sober. 

“You look beautiful tonight, y-you look beautiful every night,” he smiled. 

Your heart swelled. “Oh yeah? Even when I have my snoring tape on?” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Even then.” 

Suddenly you were very sober, and you had to get out of there. You couldn’t just be fake anymore, it wouldn’t work. You loved him, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved him. “I-I’m going to go-”

“Don’t run away from me,” he pleaded. “I want to talk about it- about us.”

“In the middle of the dance floor in a club?” you questioned. “Come with me.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, leading the way to the exit. Your heart was pounding. Maybe he’d found someone else? Maybe he was done with you? Maybe he hated you? Maybe-

“I love you,” he rushed out. “I love our life together, I love waking up to you, I love eating breakfast, and lunch, and dinner with you. I love cooking with you, I love movie nights with you, I love talking to you, I love being with you. I love kissing you and holding your hand, and being able to touch you whenever I want to. I fucking hate the fact that this all started with something fake, and it makes me feel like shit that our ‘wedding’ was the both of us signing a sheet of paper, but I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. This wasn’t real, this was your mind playing tricks on you, this was a joke, this wasn’t- 

“Please respond,” he begged. 

“I love you too,” you instinctively said. “I love all those things too.”

His worried face broke into a soft smile, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. 

Well, so much for fake.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[lowkeyremi]

TWO TIMES THE FUN !

pairing: atsumu x fem!reader note: ITS MY BABIES BIRTHDAYS!!!!!! I didn’t know who I wanted to write about because I didn’t want to make two separate fics this year. I wanted this fic to be longer than what I usually go for. So of course, as much as I love samu I had to make it all about his brother!! Sorry for those hoping for some samu action </3 (ALSO NGL I feel like this fic was all over the place 😭) summary: it’s your boyfriend and his twin’s birthday ! can you, suna, and the others successfully plan out their party or will it be total chaos? content: fluff, relationships, atsumu being a little piece of shit as per usual, msby four cameos, kisses, a lot of teasing, swearing, children (tsumu’s twins from haikyuu men as fathers), just pure joy tbh. wc: 2.8k

“Alright guys, I’ll see you tonight. Atsumu, make sure to let the nanny know that the chicken is in the fridge and she can make whatever with it for dinner. Love you all!” Atsumu nods his head firmly, whilst the twins are behind him, attempting to push him out of the way to get one more hug in.

“Papa move out the way! We need to hug Mama.” Kensuke stresses to his father. The little boy is pushing with all his might to move his father’s legs, only to make no progress. Atsumu is a professional athlete after all, it would probably be questionable if his legs buckled, because a five year old was pushing them.

“Ya already gave yer Mama plenty of hugs ya rude lil sh- shrimp!” Atsumu immediately looks away at the doorframe with sudden interest, as to avoid a lecture from you.

While he’s somewhat distracted Kosuke crawls under his father’s legs to give you a hug. He’s always been the smarter one out of the twins.

“Bye Ko, take care of Papa and Kensuke for me, alright?” A sudden seriousness takes over Kosuke’s face.

“I will Mama.” While Atsumu is distracted bickering with his carbon copy, you sneak to your car in order to leave for ‘work’. For the past couple of days you’ve been going to Osamu’s shop straight after work to meet up with Suna, who was paying 10890 yen just to take the train there and back every evening.

‘For what purpose?’ one might one ask. Well, for the Miya twins surprise party, of course. Although, Atsumu had said he didn’t want to have a party for his 29th birthday, since it’s not an important one, you and Suna decided you’d throw one anyway. It’s quite important to you, his last year being in his 20s.

Everything has gone according to plan so far, the cake order is put in, the decorations are stored in the supply room of Onigiri Miya, and neither twin knows about the surprise.

Osamu is in Tokyo; helping out with his relatively new branch of Onigiri Miya. He set up shop there a year ago, but he still goes in to check on the shop every here and there. He’s going to be back Friday morning, so Suna said he would distract him and keep him away from the shop since that’s when you’ll be setting up decorations.

It would be ideal to put the decorations up earlier, but Onigiri Miya in Osaka is still open during the week thanks to Osamu’s most diligent employee, who runs the place while he’s gone.

Said employee has been giving you access to the shop, so you can set up the party, without Osamu’s knowledge.

According to Suna, Osamu hadn’t mentioned anything about their birthday. He didn’t even suggest something small. Who could blame him though? After all, he is a business owner with a new branch, of course he’s bound to forget things.

Everyday at work you’ve been doing your work for that day, plus some work for tomorrow, so you can leave earlier to touch up on party planning. There are only two more days until the party and you feel very confident about everything. As of now, everything is going to plan, causing your heart to race in excitement. A reoccurring buzz from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts.

It doesn’t even register that you should check the ID caller, before answering, “hey.”

“It’s Suna, you mind if I bring Komori with me today? He says he’d like to help.” For some reason Suna always sounds so bored over the phone, which makes it difficult to pick up his real tone. The only way you can tell how he feels is when looking at him.

“That’s perfect! Tell him we’d love to have him help. The more hands the better.” A hum reaches your ear in response.

“Okay I gotta go, I’m pulling into work. Shoot me a text when you guys arrive, so I can pick you up.”

“Will do, bye.” Suna hangs up before you can say goodbye back to him.

“Soooo, what can I help with?” The three of you walk into Onigiri Miya’s main location, with plastic bags in your arms. There’s a certain eagerness in Komori’s tone that makes you smile. It’s very refreshing considering how nonchalant and indifferent Suna can be.

“Well, I’ve ordered custom balloons and they need to be picked up soon. You can take my car as long as you have your license.”

“Gotcha! Just send me the address and the receipt for the balloons.” You’re almost surprised how quickly Komori is on board, because if you had asked Suna he probably would have looked up the distance, then decided that you’ll go get the balloons and he’ll stay here and decorate.

“Alright, thank you Komori for being helpful, unlike somebody.” Suna scoffs at your unsubtle hint to him being lazy.

“Whatever, I’ve been coming everyday after work, paying 20k for the train here and back, plus doing everything you tell me to-”

You quickly intercept before he can continue his rant, “Yeah after I have to beg you like twenty times and I’ve already asked you if I could pay for your train and you said no!”

“That’s because your stupid husband would come for my throat if I did.” An eye roll was sent your way by Suna.

“There’s no need to fight guys, we’re doing this for the twins right? So we gotta work together.” Komori steps in before the fight can really escalate. Something all parties have learned is that you and Suna work well together, until you start fighting. Which was exactly why you only dated him for a month in high school. (Yeah tsumu got with his friend’s ex. To be fair he liked you before Suna did. Plus there’s no hard feelings.)

“You’re right, here are my keys, Komori.” The male takes the keys from you and walks out of the door to retrieve the balloons.

“Alright, Rin. Let’s get to work.” He nods in agreement.

“Not your left, my left!” Once again, you’re raising your voice.

“Then you should have said that.” Even though you can’t see his face because you’re behind him, it’s obvious that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Suna moves the banner left a little bit,

“Okay stop that’s good!” He slumps down a little bit, most likely sore from raising his arms for so long.

“Well we’ve done all we can do for today since the shop still needs to open tomorrow.” Suna nods, hopping off of the chair he was standing on.

“How far away is Komori with the alcohol?” Komori brought back the balloons half an hour ago and you immediately sent him back out to get the drinks of choice.

“He should be back in a little while, your train will be arriving soon, right?”

“Yeah, but we’re not too far from the station, so we should be alright.” He shrugs.

“I’m here!” As if on cue Komori busts through the door with a few bottles of liquor. The professional athlete seems to be out of breath.

“Why are you so out of breath, dude? You literally just had to get out of the car and walk in here.” Komori just ignores Suna and brings the bottles the storage room were everything else for the party is.

“That’s all, right? I don’t think I have enough time to run another errand.” Worry settles on Komori’s face, he must be trying to figure out what to say if you did ask him to do something else.

“Yep that’s all, I’ll drive you guys back to the station. Will you be coming back tomorrow to help set up everything?” Hopefully he says yes, but you can’t be too sad if he doesn’t, he’s a grown man with a job afterall.

“Hell yeah I will be!”

“Hurry up!” You repeat once again, in fear you guys might be late to the party. Atsumu still doesn’t know you guys have thrown him a party. All he does know is that he’s going to have a birthday dinner at his brother’s place.

“Are the boys ready? M’coming babe. Why couldn’t we have gone to eat somewhere else? We always eat at ‘Samu’s” Atsumu grumbles quietly while buttoning up his dress shirt.

“I know, I know, but since dinner was such a last minute decision, I asked Osamu if we could just eat at the shop.” Little does your husband know you’re lying. He doesn’t ultimately seem to mind eating at his brother’s shop anyway. The two have been too busy living their adult lives to link up like they used to do every Friday evening.

Atsumu goes to respond but he’s cut off by small wails of terror, “Mama!!! Kensuke’s wearing my shirt.” Kosuke is usually the more composed of the two, but he does have his moments where he loses it.

“Nuh-uh butt-face! It’s my shirt!” Kensuke bursts in after him, almost knocking his brother to the floor with brute force.

“Hey what did I say about calling each other-”

“GIVE IT BACK YA PIECE OF CRAP!” Kosuke screams while trying to rip the shirt off of his twin.

Your eyes widen in terror at your son’s choice of words.

“Kosuke Miya!” The boy goes completely stiff when he hears the way you call his name.

“Where did you hear that?” There’s a fat chance it was from your husband or your brother in law or both, honestly.

“Uh… um. Well, I heard papa say that when he was fightin’ with Uncle ‘Samu, but he didn’t say crap.” Kosuke starts to nervously pick at his fingernails.

“He said the S word didn’t he?” Kosuke nods, so much for keeping a secret. Atsumu’s never saying anything vulgar in front of his children again.

“Atsumu Miya.” You turn your head to meet his gaze and he gives you sheepish smile.

“M’sorry babe. It won’t happen again. Could ya cut me some slack? It’s my birthday.” He pleads with those puppy dog eyes.

A loud sigh leaves your lips, “Fine but we are picking this up later.” Your husband nods in agreement.

“Okay now, why do you think your brother stole your shirt…”

A whole forty-five minutes later, the Miya family has finally made it into the car. You made sure to call Suna before you left, so he could make sure to bring Osamu to the shop. The brunette succeeded in keeping Osamu busy on Friday.

“Look at my boys, you’re all so handsome.” The twins and Atsumu gush at your compliment. Like father like sons, you guess.

Excitement buzzes throughout your body, causing you to smile ear to ear during the car ride there.

“What’s got ya so excited, my love?” Atsumu asks looking over at you from the passenger seat. Atsumu can drive, it’s just that he’s the worst driver in the world. So, if you’re riding with him you always vow to drive. He’s a passenger princess anyway.

“I’m overwhelmed with happiness that you’ve lived to see another birthday and that we get to celebrate you and your brother.” Atsumu smiles up until the last part of your sentence.

“Ya could’a left out the ‘your brother’ part.” Luckily for you when he said that, you’ve reached a red light, so you reach over to slap him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t even pretend like you don’t like ‘Samu. As much as I want to deny it he is your other half.” You put your focus back on the road as he speaks up,

“Yer my other half, baby. In a romantic sense, but I guess that scrub is my other half too.”

“So you, Mama, ‘n Uncle ‘Samu are like thirds, ‘n y’all share Mama?” Kensuke’s innocent question causes Atsumu’s face to scrunch up in disgust. There’s no way in hell he’d share you with his brother.

“Hel- heck nah. Think of it as two circles ‘n Papa is one half of both circles. The other halves are yer Mama and Uncle ‘Samu.” Kensuke’s confusion tenfolds at the analogy his father gave him.

“Um… okay.” The backseat is quiet for the rest of the ride, which you can only be thankful for.

“Is ‘Samu even in there? The blinds are closed.” Atsumu is holding Kensuke and Kosuke’s small hands. The four of you walk up to the door,

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s here.” The blinds are closed, because Atsumu’s parents, former high school teammates, and current teammates are inside waiting for the birthday boys.

“Ya lyin’ on my name?” A voice comes from behind you. Atsumu’s head whips around to see his brother standing behind him with Suna.

Kosuke is the first to break from his father’s grip.

“Uncle ‘Samu! Happy birthday!” Osamu squats down to hold his arms out for the young boy to hug him.

Kensuke follows in pursuit, “I wanted to hug Uncle ‘Samu first-uh!” He tries to pull his brother away from Osamu and ends up scratching him on the face.

Before the boys can once again start up another tantrum Osamu steps in, “Now now, guys, there’s enough of me to go around. Don’t want yer pops to get jealous, do ya?”

Atsumu turns his head away ignoring his brother’s statement.

“Let’s go inside, jeez, if yer serving dinner; why the heck aren’t ya in yer shop?” Your husband is practically fuming at his sons’ reactions to their Uncle.

“I wasn’t even gonna serve ya, stupid. My employee called saying that they left the shop unlocked by accident, so I was coming here to close it. Suna decided to follow along.”

It takes them a few seconds but they connect the dots, first turning to Suna and then to you.

You don’t allow them to get a word in though because you push open the glass door and scream out, “Surprise guys!!”

Along with all the others inside of the building.

“Babe… I thought we weren’t doing anything big?” Atsumu straightens himself up, as if he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of everyone that is inside of the shop before.

“Atsumu, honey are ya really gonna complain when yer wife did all of this for you and yer brother?” His mother luckily swoops in to save you. She gives you a quick wink that practically says ‘I’ve got you honey.’

“I ain’t complaining…”

“I still can’t believe I came to such a dumb event.” Sakusa grumbles beside you. He’s always been like that, you’ve realized. The only thing that has changed is that he doesn’t really mean any of the remarks he says.

He’ll never admit but he doesn’t really hate your husband.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Something you’d also learned about Sakusa is that his alcohol tolerance is kind of low. Every thing that Sakusa is saying, is just the liquor talking.

“I could go on for days, really. He’s obnoxious, loud mouthed, vulgar, gross-”

“Omi! Ya know my wife is desensitized to all yer bad mouthin’. She’s seen it all.” Atsumu’s cheeks and ears are a soft pink.

“You, do not need any more drinks tonight.” You take Atsumu’s glass of whatever the hell he’s drinking. Behind where you and Sakusa are standing is the cooler, you waste no time grabbing a juice box and shoving it into your husband’s hands.

“I’m still surprised she hasn’t gone runnin’ for the hills yet. Ya drove me off the wall fer eighteen years of my life ‘n now, poor [name] has doomed herself to a life sentence with ya.” Osamu joins in on the Atsumu slander club.

“She agreed to marry me you stupid idiot!” Osamu chuckles at that, knocking back another shot.

“Yeah! [name]-chan love, love, loves, ‘Tsumu!!! To the moon and back- no like to the universe and back!!” Bokuto interrupts out of nowhere.

Hinata springs into the conversation too. Since you had been planning this party for awhile, the ginger flew all the way from Brazil to come to Atsumu’s 29th birthday party. To say Atsumu was surprised was an understatement. Your husband isn’t big on physical contact. He liked high fives, and really nothing more than that, but when he saw Hinata, he enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.

“Yeah! She’s not doomed!!” Hinata joins in.

“See, these guys get me!” You shake your head, trying not to laugh at your husband’s childish-ness. With all the attention on him and such a light atmosphere, he’s practically glowing. In the end, everything you’ve done was worth seeing your husband happy on his special day.

“Happy birthday, Tsumu.”

“Thank you, baby.” The blond squeezes you in a tight embrace and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Sure everyone teases you for marrying such a wild man, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides his warm arms.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites without my permission, thanks!